Page 34 of Power Play

All is not lost.

I walk to my car with Layla, still holding Maya in my arms. She’s chatting nonstop, telling us about her friends from preschool. I smile, listening attentively. Hudson, Kai, and Jax are the boys she spends most of her time with; Leah, Melissa, and Tammy are her best friends. I’m cataloging every single word she says, marking all of them as “Important.”

I’m not doing it with the sole purpose of winning her mom over. It’s about winning her over too.

“Wait a minute, I need to get her car seat,” Layla blurts and darts to her car. It’s parked a few feet away from mine. The black color shines brightly in the sun. I unlock my car and wait for her to return. Maya is quiet too, staring at her mom’s back.

“Mommy said her car isn’t working,” Maya tells me in a conspiratorial whisper.

“I’ll make sure it gets fixed.” And I mean it. “If you or your mom need anything, tell her to call me. Okay?”

Maya beams. “Okay. Uncle Drake helps Mommy too.”

“Your uncle is a great guy.”

“The best.”

I grin back at her as her mom joins us, Maya’s car seat pressed to her chest. I open the back door and Layla installs the seat, then steps back and extends her hands to me. I shake my head. “Get in the car. I’ll take care of Maya.”

The atmosphere between us shifts instantly. Her cheeks puff out as she exhales through her nostrils. “I can do it myself.”

“I know.” I move slightly, making Layla step aside. “I have everything under control. Get in the car, Layla.”

One heartbeat later, she gives me an eye roll and climbs into my car. I chuckle under my breath and place Maya in her seat. She wiggles to get comfortable, then I reach over and fasten the straps to make sure she’s safe and secure.

“Is that okay?” I ask Maya. She nods, smiling at me. “Then let’s get you home.”

After I close the door, I round my car and climb into the driver’s seat. I fasten my seat belt and glance at Layla to make sure she has hers on too. Flashing her a lopsided grin, I place my hand on the steering wheel and start the car.

“Do you know the address?”

“Yes.”

She sneaks a glance at me.

“Ava told me.”

Without a word, Layla looks away and stares ahead. I slowly drive away from the coffee shop, and once we’re stopped at a red light, I turn my head to Maya. “How is Bon-Bon doing?”

The change in her expression is priceless. Her eyes open wide, and her pouty mouth forms a little O. She stares at me, blinking. “You remember?”

“Of course. I’ve been curious to know what she looks like ever since the party,” I tell her, winking.

Maya clasps her hands together; her eyes sparkle in delight. “She’s a unicorn. Bright pink, with a flower here.” She points to her chest. “Mommy’s flower.”

I focus on the road again as the traffic light changes. I’m not quiet because I don’t remember what Layla’s favorite flower is but because I’m waiting for a reaction from her. Someone whose favorite TV show wasGossip Girland whose favorite character was Blair, couldn’t love anything but peonies. Pastel pink peonies, to be precise.

Remembering every little detail about her is my favorite sport. I love it just as much as I love hockey.

“Seems like your memory is failing you,” Layla quips.

I hold her gaze for one long moment. “Never.” I chuckle as I turn left at the intersection. “Does Bon-Bon have a pastel pink peony on her chest?”

“Yes!” Maya claps. “She’s so beautiful.”

“I have no doubt,” I tell her, discreetly watching her mom.

Layla balls her hands into fists, her jaw clenching. She tries not to look at me but fails, and our eyes clash. I smirk, even if I shouldn’t. My smugness is so evident she rolls her eyes. Again.

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