Page 38 of The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court

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Alex

Lenamusthavesensedhis tension, because she quickly added, "Not like he's trying to be mean, but like... like he's trying to decide if I'm good enough."

Alex's grip on the wheel tightened until his knuckles were white. "Has he said anything that made you uncomfortable?"

There was that shrug again. "He says I need to learn better manners at the table because I talk too much." Lena's fingers worried the fabric of her dress. "Mommy made me dress up to meet him and she even let me wear makeup."

"Makeup?" Alex couldn't keep the shock from his voice. "You're eight years old."

"Mommy said I needed to look my prettiest. She says appearances matter to Daniel."

Every parental instinct Alex possessed was screaming in alarm. What kind of man criticized an eight-year-old for talking? What kind of mother put makeup on her child to impress a boyfriend?

As they approached the timeshare condos, Alex noticed the darkened windows of Melissa's unit. He checked the dashboard clock: 9:27 PM. Melissa had insisted Alex have Lena home by 9:30 PM, so where was she?

"Looks like your mom's not back yet," he observed, trying to keep his tone neutral. "Do you know where she went tonight?" Why hadn't he thought to ask? She'd said it was an emergency because Adeline had the night off, and if he didn't want Lena to spend the evening with him, that she'd take her over to the resort and put her in the childcare service Carpe Diem offered their patrons.

"Is she with Daniel tonight?" he asked, far too belatedly and of the wrong person. He needed to work on his dad skills, and fast. He did not like the sound of this Daniel guy.

"Prolly," Lena said with the resigned knowledge of a child who'd been through this routine before.

Alex parked in the visitor spot nearest to Melissa's condo. "We can wait in the car until she gets back. Do you want to climb up in the front seat with me?"

Lena unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned forward over the console. "I know the code to let us in," she said, hoisting her backpack up onto her shoulders. "Mommy says I'm independent enough to have it this year."

Alex clenched his jaw to keep from saying something inappropriate, and they both climbed out of the truck.

Lena unlocked the front door of the condo with the practiced ease of someone who did so routinely. Alex followed her inside, flicking on lights as they entered.

The space was immaculate and expensively furnished—white leather furniture, glass tables, abstract art on the walls—all sleek, modern, and utterly impractical for a vacation with a child.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, following Lena into the kitchen. "Did you get enough to eat at Juno's?"

"I'm okay," she said, opening the refrigerator, anyway. Over her shoulder, Alex could see that it was stocked with pre-packaged gourmet meals, green drinks, some exotic fresh fruit, and several bottles of wine. Not a single kid-friendly treat in sight if you didn't count the pineapple, dragon fruit, and kiwis that would require an adult to prep for her.

Lena closed the fridge and trudged into the living room, Alex on her heels. She flopped down on one of the white leather sofas looking completely forlorn.

"Why don't you get ready for bed?" Alex said, his stomach in knots. "It's getting late."

Lena's face fell. "Do I have to? Can we watch TV while we wait for Mommy?"

"Alright," he relented. "One show, then bed."

Her face lit up, and she jumped to her feet and hugged him. "Really?"

"Yes," he said, taking her by the shoulders and steering her toward the hallway. "But first, brush your teeth and put on your pajamas. While you're doing that, I'll find something for us to watch."

"Deal!" Lena darted off and Alex texted Melissa.We're here. ETA?

Then he headed into the kitchen to get him and Lena a couple of glasses of water. Was it okay for her to be drinking water this late? Would she wet the bed? "Stop being such a worry-wart," he told himself, then headed back to the living room with the bottom-heavy tumblers on a small tray. He couldn't help thinking of Juno and her tray of delicious treats that morning.

If Melissa didn't get home soon, he'd have to let Juno know that he wouldn't make it back to her place when he'd said. And any later than that was probably too much of an ask. He knew she'd been up well before dawn this morning.

He did not want to cancel on Juno. He needed to talk to her, to explain. He needed an ally, he realized.

He turned on the enormous flat-screen TV mounted on the wall just as Lena came scurrying back into the room, dressed in pink kitten pajamas and fuzzy socks. Tucked under her arm was the large stuffed ladybug he'd sent for her birthday in May. When it took him too long to figure out the remote, she offered to show him how to use it, then she deftly navigated to a streaming service with the expertise of a child raised on digital entertainment.

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