She clapped her hands. “I hope it’s somewhere fun!”
Paul—one of the security guards for Kline’s building—strode over toward our car, irritation etched across his face. “Ma’am, you can’t park—wait…Cassie Phillips?” Paul’s irritation turned to intrigue, a soft smirk covering his lips.
“Hey, handsome.” I winked. “How are you?”
“It’s been a while, sweetheart. Ever since Georgia left, we never see your gorgeous face around here.”
“I guess I should change that, huh?”
He nodded. “Definitely.”
“Listen, I need to leave the car here for about fifteen minutes. I just need to run inside and grab something from Dean.”
“Cass…I don’t know…”
“Oh, c’mon, Paulie.” I batted my eyelashes. “I promise we’ll be quick.”
He shrugged. “Okay. But make it quick.”
“You’re the best,” I said, getting out of the driver’s seat and helping Mila out of her booster. “I owe you one.”
“Dinner with me, and we’ll call it even.”
I grinned in his direction as I grabbed Mila’s hand. “I’m not sure my boyfriend would be too thrilled with me going out with other men.”
“Boyfriend?” His eyebrows rose. “Cassie Phillips has a boyfriend?”
“Her boyfriend is my Uncle Thatch!” Mila chimed in.
Surprise consumed Paul’s face. “Thatch? As in Thatch Kelly?”
“That’s him!” The little chatterbox continued to speak for me.
I laughed. “This is his niece and fan club, Mila.”
Paul kneeled in front of her, holding out his hand. “Well, pretty Mila, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said as he took her hand and kissed the top.
She giggled, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously, and I couldn’t help but laugh. This little girl already had men eating out of the palm of her hand. Her teenage years would give Frankie, Claire, and probably Thatch, a run for their money.
“Thanks again, Paul,” I called over my shoulder as we strode inside Brooks Media.
“Where are we?” Mila asked, looking around the lobby of the Winthrop Building in wonder.
“We’re heading to my friend’s office. I need to borrow something from him,” I explained as I led her onto the elevator.
“I think I’ve been here before,” she said as we stepped off the elevator and walked through the hallway outlined by various offices. “Does Uncle Thatch’s friend work here?”
“Who? Kline?”
“Yep,” she said with a nod, and her ponytail bounced up and down in response. “Last time I was here, Kline let me play games on his computer.”
“He does work here.” Owned the place. Same thing. Knowing Kline, he’d probably told her he was his own secretary. I grabbed her hand and led her to the end of the hall, where Dean’s office was located. Mila looked on as I turned the knob and opened the door just slightly. “Is this where the One Direction fan club meetings are held?” I asked, peeking my head in to find him typing away on his laptop.
He looked up and grinned. “Only if you brought a ready and willing Harry Styles with you.”
I laughed, opening the door wider and ushering Mila inside. “Well, I brought their biggest fan. Does that count?”
Dean stood up and walked around his desk. His grin widened as he took in Mila’s attire. “Little Miss, you are my new favorite person. I want Harry to be my boyfriend, too.”
Mila’s hand went straight to her hip, and a determined look crossed her tiny face. “He can’t be your boyfriend cuz he’s gonna be my boyfriend. When I’m thirteen, Harry is gonna marry me. I’m gonna wear a pink dress and he’s gonna kiss me.” And she punctuated that statement with a snap in the air.
Dean laughed, visibly amused by her pint-sized sass. “Will you at least invite me to your wedding?”
She eyed him skeptically and pointed her little index finger in his direction. “Only if you promise to not eat all the pizza and donuts.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Donuts?”
She nodded. “Um, yeah. Harry and me is gonna have pizza and a donut cake at our wedding.”
Man, I loved her little mind. My perfect wedding would be pizza and a donut cake, too. And hell, to be honest, I had never really been completely sold on kids. But Mila was the kind of little girl who could maybe get me to consider purchasing some little monsters of my own.
“Deal, little diva,” Dean agreed, smiling down at her.
I tugged on her ponytail. “I hope you’re going to invite me.”
“Duh.” She rolled her eyes. “You and Uncle Thatch have to bring my baby cousin to the wedding, Aunt Cassie!”
Dean’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Baby?”
I laughed and sliced a hand through the air for emphasis. “No baby.”
“Not yet,” Mila insisted. “But soon. You just gotta marry Uncle Thatch first.”
His head tilted to the side. “Uncle Thatch? Something you need to tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Lies-a-Minnelli,” he retorted, and I laughed again.