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He shrugged. He was no help.
“Well, let me know how they taste. If they’re good, maybe I can try making a batch, too.”
“Okay,” Mia said. “Is California nice and warm?”
Cara smiled at that. “Warmer than Wyoming. But today is a cooler day. I had to wear a jacket.”
Mia scrunched her nose. “You’re funny. Isn’t she funny, Daddy?”
“Yes, she’s funny,” he said, holding back the amusement in his tone.
Cara elbowed him. “I’m funny,” she whispered to him. Then she turned back to Mia. “What are your plans the rest of the day?”
While Mia rattled off all of her plans for the day, which would certainly take until midnight were she to actually do all of them, Roman slipped his hand inside of Cara’s.
She loved it when he held her hand. Almost more than kissing. Well, not really, but holding hands was a simple yet sure declaration of affection. Togetherness. Trust.
It was what she liked about Roman. He seemed to trust her without reservation. This past week’s phone conversations had showed her that over and over as he discussed his work, the industry, his daughter, and how he dealt with juggling so many things.
“I’m not reading the fairy books until Daddy gets home so that he won’t miss anything,” Mia said.
Cara was pretty sure Roman wasn’t hanging on for the next plot twist.
“Thanks, Mia,” he said. “We can read tomorrow night.”
Mia moved closer to the screen, her eyes getting bigger. “If you need to go on another date, then that’s okay. I can see you in two days.”
Roman squeezed Cara’s hand. “As much as I’d love to spend more time with Cara, I do have to get back to the filming.”
Mia sighed. “Okay, Daddy. See you tomorrow night.”
“Great, love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, Daddy,” Mia said. “Love you, too, Cara.”
For a second, Cara froze. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Who wouldn’t love a darling girl like Mia who lived life with her whole heart? Of course, Cara knew there was more to it than that. “I love you, too.”
Mia smiled, then reached forward and pushed END on her iPad.
Cara was still reeling from Mia’s simple statement when Roman said, “My daughter’s a smart kid.”
“I agree,” she said in a measured tone, but butterflies were zooming around in her stomach. “Now, are you hungry? I know a great Italian place, if you like Italian?”
“I love Italian, but I’d eat pretty much anything you put in front of me right now.”
“Great.” Cara pulled her hand away and started the car. They headed toward the restaurant she’d eaten at several times. It was small, intimate, and this time of day, they’d have the place practically to themselves.
As they pulled through the narrow alley to the back parking lot, Roman leaned forward to read the sign.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said.
“What? You’ve been to La Grigila?”
“My mom and I used to come here to celebrate the end of one of the films she’d worked on.”
“This same one?”
“It’s the only one, I think.”
