Page 46 of Fierce Hope
Deke felt a tug of envy at their easy closeness, his eyes automatically seeking Jade again. She’d moved to help Izzy arrange Chantal’s presents, head bent close as they talked. Even from across the room, he could see the tension in Izzy’s shoulders as she checked her phone with a grimace.
“Everything okay?” he asked, making his way over.
Izzy quickly pocketed her phone. “Just Chantal’s baby daddy. Sending his usual lame birthday text. I’m guessing hismother reminded him.” Her voice dropped. “Not worth showing her.”
Deke nodded, recognizing the familiar anger in her eyes. He’d been there when Izzy had finally escaped her ex’s controlling grip. “She’s having a great time,” he offered instead, nodding toward where Chantal twirled in her sequined mermaid costume. “That’s what matters.”
“Thanks to you guys,” Izzy’s expression softened. “Though I think we’re about thirty seconds from?—”
Kenji sidled up to them, eyes wide. “Small emergency here. The magician’s running late. Idiot decided to get a few last runs in at the ski resort, and now he’s stuck in resort traffic. ETA unknown. There goes the entertainment.”
“—that,” Izzy finished with a sigh.
Deke glanced toward the corner where DJ had been camped since their arrival, surprised to find his son actually looking up from his phone, watching the unfolding drama with something like interest. Their eyes met briefly before DJ looked away, but not before Deke caught the slight eye roll that somehow felt more communicative than their entire morning conversation.
“We’ve got games planned,” Jade suggested calmly, looking to Izzy. “We could start those early.”
But the restless energy of the children was building fast. A minor squabble broke out near the punch bowl, and Chantal’s lower lip began to wobble dangerously.
The genuine distress on the little girl’s face tugged at his heart. She’d been through so much already in her young life. Hence the pressure Izzy put on herself to make everything perfect on her girl’s special day.
Before anyone could react, catastrophe struck from another direction. One of Jack’s small twins went careening past the cake table, bumping it hard. The elaborate three-tiered mermaid creation—a masterpiece of fondant and buttercream—slid and partially collapsed. The mermaid topper broke free, landing in a splat of frosting.
Chantal’s tiny face crumpled. “My cake,” she wailed, tears spilling. “My special cake.”
“It’s official. We’re in full meltdown mode,” Ronan muttered, bouncing the other twin on his leg. “Quick, someone get Griff to do his robot impression.”
Deke was about to step in when movement from the corner caught his eye. DJ pushed away from the wall, shoving his phone into his pocket, and approached the gathering storm of upset children. Deke froze, watching with a mixture of confusion and alarm as his perpetually sullen teenager knelt to Chantal’s level.
“Hey,” DJ said, his voice gentler than Deke had heard in months. “You know what’s cooler than a mermaid cake?”
Chantal sniffled. “Nothing’s cooler than a mermaid cake.”
“Yeah, I hear you. But a special birthday magic trick would be close, right?” DJ produced a deck of cards from his pocket. “Want to see?”
The children gathered closer as DJ shuffled the cards with surprising dexterity. His fingers moved with practiced precision, executing a series of fancy cuts and flourishes that even Deke found impressive.
“My uncle taught me this,” DJ explained to his rapt audience. “It’s all about misdirection.”
He fanned the cards face down, instructing Chantal to pick one. “Remember it, but don’t tell me.”
She nodded solemnly, studying her card before returning it to the deck.
DJ’s hands moved in an intricate pattern as he shuffled, occasionally dropping cards in what looked like clumsy mistakes but Deke recognized as deliberate moves. He’d seensimilar techniques used in covert operations—the art of making something intentional look accidental.
“The real trick,” DJ told Chantal as he continued the elaborate shuffle, “is making people look where you want them to look.” He deliberately fumbled again, sending several cards scattering to the floor. While everyone’s attention followed the fallen cards, his left hand smoothly palmed something from his pocket.
“Meanwhile,” he continued, giving Deke a fleeting glance that suggested he knew exactly what he was demonstrating, “you can do something else entirely.”
With a dramatic flourish, DJ produced Chantal’s card—somehow now with a tiny mermaid sticker attached to its corner.
“Is this your card?” he asked, to gasps and applause.
“How did you DO that?” Chantal breathed, utterly enchanted.
“Magic,” DJ said with a wink. “And really fast hands.”
“Can you teach me?” she asked eagerly.
