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Which makes little sense, but not much does lately.

I give my daughter’s hand a squeeze. “It’s a bit past your bedtime, baby girl, so if you get tired, you let me know.”

That’s the one silver lining of having a kid. I can always use her as an excuse.

Except she’s disengaged from me in record time, running across the grass. “Simon’s here! Did you bring your puppy?”

Well. It was nice while it lasted.

Mike chuckles beside me. “Nice try.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, this place really doesn’t have any ghosts. It’s a gimmick.”

“I don’t care.” I’m looking around, pretending to evaluate the drink selection so I can’t see the knowing all over his face.

Mike nudges me to the drinks cooler, grabbing a beer for himself and a bottle of water for me. “Figured you’re not drinking tonight.”

“Thanks. You figured right.”

He really does know me better than anyone.

Even on the rare occasions that I’m tempted, I’m usually too worried. What if there’s some emergency? What if Ella gets hurt and I need to drive her to the hospital?

Mike’s hand rubs up and down at the base of my spine for a moment before he wanders over to say hello to our fellow escort, Prince. The gesture makes me shiver.

Or is that the wind? Hell. “I should’ve brought Ella’s sweater.”

Mike turns away from his conversation to gesture to where she’s happily seated in the grass, petting our friend Simon’s dog. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”

“No, but it’s not quite dark yet and it’ll get colder⁠—”

“She’ll be fine. Worst case, I have a hoodie in the car.”

In the past, I think I would’ve assumed he was judging me. Arguing for the sake of arguing. Now that I think about it though, his voice is actually pretty patient. He’s always been pretty patient. Not only with Ella, but with me, too.

Liam, who I guess is technically my new boss now, wanders over. He asks how I’m liking the new job, and I thank him more than is strictly necessary, because I really can’t thank him enough.

They’re paying me more than I’m worth, I suspect. In fact, I kind of tried to tell his business partner, but the guy didn’t seem to hear me. Zed only pointed out the need for confidentiality and that Bev was so happy not to have to do the job anymore. Told me they’d be happy to give me more hours, too, whenever I decided I had the time.

So it’s…nice. I’m trying to tell myself it’s not too good to be true.

Since Liam’s here, I decide to ask about the thing that’s been simmering in the back of my mind. “Any luck tracking down those pills?”

Liam tips his beer. “Some, yes. Thanks for the tip about that development. We grabbed a couple of low-level lowlifes who were acting as couriers, bringing in the product and leaving with cash. No luck on getting anyone at the top of the food chain, but it’s a start.”

My eyelids grow unexpectedly heavy. We haven’t even eaten yet. It all gets so overwhelming. All I ever want is to know Ella’s safe.

“…next week. Monday to Sunday. There’ll be a bonus in it for you if you’re willing to…”

The voice of our pimp gets my attention, especially when I turn to find him chatting with Mike. Our friend Prince has since wandered off and is busy pretending to wrestle with Simon’s younger brother.

“Wait. I thought I—” Careful, Dean. “I thought all your dates got canceled.”

“No, luckily, not all of them.” Mike gives me a look I figure roughly translates to “Watch your damn mouth.”

“Oh.” Swallow. “Good. Uh…who’s your date with?”