Page 35 of Dancing in the Dark

“She’s still here, babe.” I search her willow green stare and grin. “I’m not mad. I just panicked for a second.”

“Why can’t I hear Fifi? Are you tricking me, Daddy? I’m gonna be so mad at you if you are!”

“I’m still here.” Sera forces her voice a little louder and blushes as it cracks. “I promise.”

“You wanna stay for dinner?” Only for tonight. And if you’re not busy, every other night from now until eternity. “We’ll have hot-dogs-on-sticks salad, hold the hot dogs for yours.”

“Done!” Mia charges back into the hall in fresh pjs and a face cleared of blood. Mostly. There’s still a bit on her jaw. Skidding across the hardwood and around the couch, she spins her metaphorical wheels and searches for traction on the turn, then she locks eyes with Sera and dives back onto the couch with a wild, face-splitting grin. “You’re still here!” She wraps her arms around Sera’s neck and squeezes tight enough to shut the poor woman’s airways. “I was so worried you were gonna sneak out!”

Breaking our stare, Sera turns toward my baby and pulls her onto her lap. “I would never sneak out without telling you goodbye.” When it’s me and Sera in a room alone, it’s me and Sera, alone. But when it’s me, Sera, and Mia, I stand no chance, because they curl toward each other and whisper their sweet little words back and forth. “I’m sorry I showed you a sad movie, baby. Fifi wasn’t thinking, huh? I was so silly.”

“Nuh uh. It’s okay.” Mia stares up at her with wide, cartoon-like eyes, and loops her finger through the chain hanging around her neck. “It was only a movie, Mufasa isn’t real.”

“Mmhm. Exactly.”

“And besides, I bet Scar gets what’s coming for him. He did the wrong fing, and later, he’ll be punished. The bad guy never wins.”

I wish I could say that was true in real life. Hell, I even consider myself an optimist most of the time. But you don’t reach my age and life experience without acknowledging that, sometimes, the bad guy wins.

Too often.

Turning on my heels and leaving them to whisper, I head back to the kitchen and drain the last of my beer, tossing the bottle into the trash can—not the recycling, oops—then I swing the freezer open, only to close it most of the way again. I position myself in front of the gap, covering the too-few things inside in case Sera looks this way. Reaching in, I snatch out a box of party-sized corndogs and slam it shut with a noisy slap. Tossing the box onto the counter, I move to the oven and flick it on.

“Will you please stay for dinner, Fifi?” Mia’s voice takes on a distinct pleading whimper. “It would make me so happy if you stayed, and even though I don’t fink you’re silly for showing me that movie, I’m still a little bit sad about Mufasa. If you stay, you could hug me and make me not sad.”

“Wow.” Chuckling under my breath, I shake my head and wash my hands with soap and water, since the last place I spent time was on the corner of probably-shouldn’t-be-there and intimidation-is-still-illegal-even-if-I-speak-to-no-one. Switching off the tap and drying my hands on paper towels, I come back to the box of corndogs and tear the cardboard packaging open.

I’m pretty sure my baby spends way too much time with Cato fuckin’ Malone. Because her emotional manipulation game has grown strong over the last little while. It’s not something I should allow, definitely not something I should encourage, but at Sera’s murmured, “Sure, I’ll stay. Thank you,” my lips curl into a too-pleased grin, and I consider my baby’s powers useful… so long as I can teach her to use them for good.

It’s totally fine. I’m not raising the next evil mafia warlord… right?

14

FLETCH

“I should go.” Sera whispers in the dark, her beautiful face lit up by the television and a guns-blazing, action-packed, fireball scene from some movie that is definitely not The Lion King.

It might be Bad Boys… maybe. I can’t say for sure, though, since I haven’t watched a single minute of it.

Mia snoozes quietly on Sera’s lap, her little feet on my thigh, her cheek on Sera’s chest, her finger still looped in Sera’s necklace.

She’s been out for twenty minutes already.

I knew the instant she dropped off that my time was running out.

“It’s getting late,” she continues quietly. “You should probably put Mia to bed, huh?”

“Soon.” I’m an asshole. I’m such a prick. But it’s hard to be anything else when I know my daughter being on her lap is the only reason she’s still here. “How was work today?”

Stunned surprise plays through her beautiful eyes. “Work?”

“Mm. You said yesterday how the Chinese folks were gonna be in town, and you’ll be busy as hell. Then you called me out of the blue and said you had the afternoon off. Are we at war with China again?”

Her lips lift into a stunning, sexy grin. “No. They’re here, and everyone’s getting along. We welcomed them this morning at City Hall, did all the media circus crap, toured the port, all as scheduled.”

“But…?”

“But they had more questions than we anticipated, which pushed the tour out three hours longer than we first planned. Twelve o’clock lunch was moved to three⁠—”