“Oooo, you like her!”

“Honey, that’s not how this works.”

“Actually, it is how this works. You like someone. You say something. You kiss them. You spend time with them. And then Daddy, when a man and a woman lust after each other very much, he goes to the drugstore and buys condoms, and—”

“Cut it out, kiddo.” I let the edge in my voice stay.

She goes silent. “Fine. Topic change. Maman left Rolf.”

I stop breathing.

“What?”

“She’s divorcing him. Says he’s boring.”

Where have I heard that before?

Beep.

“Hang on, Amelie. Someone’s on the other line.”

Click.

“I heard my dad is a hero!” Elodie crows into the phone.

“Two children speaking to me at the same time on an actual phone. Has the zombie apocalypse begun?”

She sighs. “I wish it would. Then I wouldn’t need to finish this political cartooning paper that’s due tomorrow.”

“Political cartooning? That’s an actual course?” Summer school offers strange choices.

“Yes. I thought it would be a blow-off, but the professor actually expects us to take it seriously and talk about imagery and know political history!”

Her outrage makes me laugh. “How dare he expect you to analyze? And learn! Oh, the humanity!”

“Daddy,” she growls. “Who’s Chloe?”

“How do you know about Chloe?”

“So she is your new crush!” Elodie squeals. “Now I owe Amelie five dollars.”

“You two are betting on...me?”

“Just your sex life.”

“Uh...”

“Blame Jean-Marc. He started it. Said as soon as he moved out you’d turn the condo into a shag pad.”

“A what?”

“A sex den.”

I am not having this conversation.

“I can’t wait to tell him you’re beating up your competitors for women at work!”

“That’s me. Nick Grafton, cage fighter.”

Beep.

“Hang on. Your sister’s on the other line.”

Click.

“Did you drop me for Elodie? Not fair. I had the scoop first. And Maman wants to stay with us.”

Us means here, in my townhouse, which means spending days with my ex-wife who left me when the twins were five and Jean-Marc was barely three.

Because I was boring.

I would sympathize with Rolf if he hadn’t been the person she left me for.

“Why does she want to stay here? She’s never stayed with us before.” Ever. Once a year, by legal agreement, she had the kids for three weeks in the summer. I always flew them there, spent two days in a hotel, and flew back, gutted, hoping they would adjust.

They always did.

Me, on the other hand...

“I don’t know!” she chirps. “But it’ll be nice to have both of my parents at an event for once.”

And gutted again.

“Right,” I say faintly, swallowing a suddenly dry mouth. “We’ll figure it all out.”

“I’m so happy to hear you’re dating, Daddy!”

“I’m not dating!”

“If you say so... Love you! Gotta get on the T!”

Click.

I switch back to Elodie. Gone.

And then I look at my texts.

Three requests for money.

One from each kid.

I set my phone down, shake my head, and pick out tonight’s date.

Pinot Noir, or a nice Flemish red sour ale?

Black Sails or The Wire?

Twenty minutes later, a sandwich and a beer in front of me, I pick my poison and settle in for a night of binge watching.

By the second sex scene in Black Sails, I’m twitching, unable to stop thinking about Chloe, the piles of roses outside her office, the horrified look on her face when that sonofabitch came barreling down the hallway, screaming her name.

How instinct kicked in.

And I kicked his ass.

“Not bad for an old man, as the kids would say,” I mutter with a sigh, going into the kitchen for another beer. I grab my phone off the counter and flip through my contacts. I added Chloe in there on a lark, right after her presentation, a number I’d planned to give my admin to set up a next meeting.

It’s not an Anterdec corporate number that Chloe gave me. Looks like her personal cell phone.

Huh.

Chloe

When my alarm goes off at six a.m., I know it’s time to get up. My meeting with Nick Grafton is today. I’ve been awake since four, when I woke to find Mink covering my face, fur tickling my nose.

Mink. My living, purring fur coat. My cat.

I tried so hard to hold on to sleep, blissful unconsciousness. General anesthesia.

My brain, however, wanted to watch a slideshow:

The mystery shop report. Who highlighted all those pages?

Me, at the market, shopping for treats for Joe.

Me, in the ladies’ room, primping a treat for Joe.

Joe, getting treated. By someone else.

I have read that it’s essentially impossible to think of nothing, but I tried. I visualized grey. The O shade.

Quite right. Impossible. I started running through the alphabet backwards.

Z Y X… W… not as easy as you would think, right?

...P O...

N... Nick Grafton in my office doorway, somehow familiar. Starched white shirt. The scent of Bay Rhum when he caught me. If masculine has a scent, it’s Bay Rhum.

…M L K...

J... Joe, red-faced and drunk, Nick’s arm around his neck. Pathetic. I wish I could un-see this.

...D C...

B... Baby. Baby coming soon. Life will change, forever. Am I ready? I think so. But is anyone ever ready? Maybe I’m too ready—what if Li changes her mind? Should I buy diapers, baby clothes, a crib? Would I be tempting fate? So far I just have an infant car seat. If this doesn’t happen, I can just put it in the closet. Way far back in the closet where I can’t see it.

Li is so young. Old enough to get pregnant but far too young to be a mother. In so many ways, she’s really still a baby herself. She’s been forced into a situation with no possible happy ending—at least not for her. Her tragedy will make my dream come true. Can I help make some of her dreams come true in return? She wants to be an esthetician, told me the day I met her on the gO Spa. Can I find a scholarship for her? Create one?