Diaz and his wife clawed at my mind, pulling me from my own aggravation, and toward their desperate hunger for an outing, new friends in an area they found themselves so isolated in. Diaz found himself buried in work, wrapping up things in Texas, prioritizing his mentoring here in Chicago, and focusing on Global Guild tasks. It stretched him thin, leaving very little breathing room for easy nights like this.
Vanessa found herself lost in Chicago. It hadn’t been the grand welcome back she had envisioned after more than a decade away from the city. Most of the women she associated with either left the city too or drifted to a very different lifestyle than the one she’d chosen.
“You know, I used to work at Gwendolyn’s,” Vanessa said with a bit of swagger as she stepped into the kitchen. “It’s how we met.”
“Oh, I remember.” Milo smirked, recalling the case he and Diaz had, the one that led to the burlesque club, the dance Vanessa didn’t even pause when the boys broke out into a fight with the warlock they chased down.
Diaz and Milo shared a look, their thoughts twisting together into the same recollection. It was always interesting when minds did that. Most people didn’t even realize when they shared a look, a fleeting second or two, their thoughts actually synced together, even unknowingly. The two basked in the memory of the battle and the burlesque show that they shockingly didn’t interrupt.
Vanessa’s graceful moves and unflinching attitude during the battle piqued Diaz’s interest, and he vowed not to leave Chicago without at least one night out with the beautiful dancer.
“Milo and Millie were adorable,” Vanessa said, recalling the pair profusely apologizing to her after her performance.
“Millie?” Milo raised his brows. “That rolls off the tongue nicely.”
“A lot about me rolls off the tongue nicely,” Diaz chuckled.
“Plus, he’s only Emiliano when I’m angry,” Vanessa said with a surly tone and a swagger in her step as she carried over a tray of drinks.
We chatted for about thirty minutes before the babysitter arrived, then prepared to head out.
Milo poked his head in Diego’s room, where the boys were rummaging through every single toy the kid had.
“We’re heading out, buddy.”
“Okay,” Ben said, not looking back.
“If you need us, let us know.”
“Have fun.”
“You too.” Milo lingered at the door, waiting for acknowledgement.
Ben finally turned around, a little giggly. “Bye.”
Milo smiled, nodding as he closed the door. “He’s totally gonna miss us.”
“He’ll be a total disaster without us,” I said with a deadpan expression.
“Absolutely, not.” Milo’s brow crinkled. “Ben’s quite independent. He’ll be completely fine.”
“You’re such an overprotective daddy.”
“Oh, hush.” Milo nudged my shoulder.
I grinned the entire drive downtown, high on Milo’s anxious parent thoughts. Admittedly, I occasionally became insufferable with the whole parenting thing, too. It was a lot of work, and Ben had so much to process. I couldn’t help but be proud of us. All three of us.
Once we got to Gwendolyn’s Guns & Gals, Cassidy greeted our arrival with a stern scowl and a hand on her hip.
“I’ll assume there won’t be any outbursts this time around?” she asked, eyes locked onto Diaz.
“As long as nothing nefarious is going on in these parts, little miss.” Diaz tipped his hat and grinned.
Cassidy gave a fake smile. “Everything’s above board here.”
“That’s a stretch,” I muttered.
Milo nudged me. “Oh, be nice. We’re trying to have a fun night out, right?”
