Page 31 of From Maybe to Baby

Sometimes disasters come with breakfast options.

And apparently, I now eat breakfast.

4

JONAS

"Mr. Knight? Do you have a moment?"

I'm trying to wrangle my kids away from their pre-breakfast swim when the resort manager appears, wearing the kind of smile that could mean someone's complained about us. Given that Lukas is currently demonstrating his "super splash attack" while Jace refuses to let go of her soaked princess dress, I wouldn't be surprised.

"Whatever the damage is, I'll cover it," I say automatically. It's become my standard response since having kids.

"Oh no, nothing like that." He laughs nervously. "Actually, it's about the laptop incident."

Ah. That.

"Already planning to replace it," I assure him, catching Lukas mid-splash. "Buddy, remember what we said about indoor voice and indoor splashing?"

"But Daddy, I'm showing my moves."

"The resort would like to... smooth things over," the manager continues, watching Lukas demonstrate… whatever it is he’sdoing. "Miss Minty is actually here on assignment. She's writing about our family-friendly activities."

I pause in the middle of trying to convince Jace that yes, princesses do sometimes change out of wet clothes. "The travel writer? The one who..."

"The pretty pool lady," Lukas announces, suddenly interested in the conversation.

"With the sparkly nails," Jace adds.

"I broke her laptop," Lukas adds helpfully. "But it was the best splash ever."

"About that," the manager—his name tag reads 'David'—clears his throat. "We were hoping you might be willing to... participate in her research? Show her some of our family activities? Given the unfortunate first impression..."

That's when I see her, walking toward us in a sarong that definitely wasn't designed for family-friendly activities. My brain short-circuits somewhere between "research" and "first impression."

"Miss Minty." David waves her over with slightly manic enthusiasm. "I was just explaining to Mr. Knight about your assignment."

She approaches with the caution of someone who's learned the hard way about splash zones. The sarong shifts with each step, exposing a tanned, toned thigh. I force my eyes up to safer territory, like her face, which isn't actually safer at all because she's got this half-smile that suggests she knows exactly what that sarong is doing to my ability to think and speak clearly.

"The laptop killer himself," she says, but she's smiling. "We meet again."

"Technically, the laptop killers were these two creatures." I gesture to my kids, who have abandoned all pretense of drying off in favor of staring at Alexa with unabashed curiosity.

"You're pretty," Jace announces with the brutal honesty of a three-year-old. "Like a princess. Can you make princess hair?"

"Jace, remember what we said about personal space?" But Alexa's already kneeling down to eye level with my daughter, seemingly unbothered by the wet hug she's about to receive.

"I know a little bit about princess hair," she says seriously. "But I hear you're the real princess expert around here."

Jace beams. I'm done for.

"Perhaps Miss Minty could join you for some activities?" David suggests. "For her article?"

"The one we drowned?" Lukas asks.

"Yup, that one." Alexa stands, and that sarong does something completely unfair.

"We said sorry." Lukas reminds her. "And Daddy's gonna buy you coffee. He says coffee makes everything better.”

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