Page 92 of Fielder's Choice

“Purple!” she giggles.

I had a feeling that’s what she’d pick. Everyone who knows Sage knows how obsessed she is with purple. She’s literally in a purple sweater and glittery purple sneakers with a purple bow in her hair right now.

Girl sure knows what she likes.

“I think that’s a perfect idea,” I smile, squatting down beside her. “Do you think I should get purple, too, then? We can match!”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Sage claps excitedly. “Owive match me!”

I can’t help but laugh as I stand back up and tell our technicians what we decided on—a beautiful lavender for both of us.

Like Lane told me this morning, Sage was absolutely ecstatic when I came to pick her up. I adore her, and I love that she enjoys having me around.

Lane seems to be just as excited, though. He likes to see us bonding and enjoying time together. And I love it, too. I’ll never be able to have my own biological children, but getting to spend time with Sage is enough to help ease that pain.

I do have one gripe with Lane right now, though. He insisted on me taking the black card he thrust into my hand when I got to their place earlier. He doesn’t know what I have planned at all, but he said he doesn’t care. Said that I may be treating his daughter, but he can make sure he treats us both.

What is it with men and insisting they pay for everything?

We slip back into our seats to finish out our manicures as our nail techs come back over with the polish. Sage watches with rapt attention as her tech coats her tiny fingernails, and I can’t help but smile.

“Your daughter is adorable,” my tech says, causing me to whip my head around.

“Oh! She’s, uh, not my daughter. I’m… friends… with her father.”

“My apologies then,” she says, an embarrassed look on her face. “I just assumed since you’re here together.”

“We’re having a girl’s day,” I reply. “I’m just her ballet teacher.”

The technician gives me a disbelieving look. “I don’t think you’rejustanything to her if you want my opinion. It’s clear as day that she loves being with you.”

“I love being with her, too,” I say softly. “She’s the sweetest little girl.”

She gives me a sweet smile before getting to work on my manicure.

And in the silence that follows, I let my mind wander.

I didn’t hate that she thought Sage was my daughter.

I actually really liked it.

She’s the sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, and her father is one of my favorite people. I don’t hate the confusion at all because part of me wonders if that could be the truth one day.

I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I’ve always wanted to be a mother.

Maybe this is the way that happens for me.

I mull over that thought as our technicians finish up with us, and I use the card Lane insisted I take to pay.

After I help Sage get her jacket back on and then shrug on my own, she tugs on my hem to get my attention.

“What we do now, Owive?”

I bend down to her level. “I have something very fun planned, sweet girl. But we’re going to need to go shopping first. You’re going to need a very pretty dress.”

Sage shrieks and runs ahead of me, the tulle on the skirt of her dress flowing behind her.

I needed her to be dressed up for this part of our day. Since I knew what I had planned, I was already dressed for that part—a black turtleneck, skirt, and boots. Since Lane didn’t know, Ineeded to get something for Sage that wasn’t a sweater, jeans, and sneakers.

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