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numbers.”
    “Aaron!”
    “I’ll speak to you later.” He hung up.
    He turned and then stopped, surprised to
see Bridget awake and watching him.
    “I’m causing trouble,” she said, pulling
back the covers and sitting up. “I should go.”
    “Absolutely you’re not.” He put his phone
in the pocket of his jeans. “I’m sorry about that. Nita is…” He glanced at
Mateo. He never criticized her in front of the boy, even though at times he
wanted to call her all the names under the sun. “Complicated,” he chose.
    Her eyes told him she understood. “I’m
sorry,” she whispered.
    He shrugged and checked his watch. It was
nearly five o’clock. “How do you feel?” he asked, looking back at her.
    “A bit better.” She looked better too,
calmer, less panicky.
    “I thought we could go down to the hotel
restaurant and have some dinner. Would you like to join us?”
    “I… I couldn’t. I’ve imposed on you enough.
I really should go.”
    “Why don’t you have something to eat?” he
said gently. “Later, you can call your brother if you like, or whatever you
want.”
    “I don’t have any money,” she admitted.
    “It’s okay, I’ll pay. You can always send
me a check later.” He smiled.
    She nibbled her bottom lip. She probably
hadn’t eaten since the morning, and maybe if she’d been nervous she might not
even have had breakfast. “I am a bit hungry,” she admitted. Then she looked
down at her herself. “I can’t go looking like this, though. Everything’s too
big, and I don’t have any shoes.”
    “Ah. Yeah. I could nip out and get you some
clothes.”
    “Can’t we have room service, Dad?” Mateo
asked.
    He hadn’t thought of that. He raised his
eyebrows at her. “Would you prefer that? They have a good menu here.”
    Her face lit up a bit, and she nodded.
    “Okay.” He retrieved the menu. “How about I
order a few things and we all dip in?”
    She nodded again, her eyes light as they
rested on him.
    “Don’t forget chicken nuggets,” Mateo
prompted.
    “Of course. No meal’s complete without
nuggets.” He rolled his eyes at her. “Any requests?”
    “What do you recommend?” she asked Mateo.
    The boy studied the menu solemnly. “I like
the meat pizza.”
    “Pizza it is, then.”
    “No ancheevees though.”
    She kept a straight face. “Definitely no
ancheevees.”
    Aaron hid a smile, picked up the hotel
phone, and dialed. He could think of worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.
     

Chapter Five
    They ate pizza—without anchovies—chicken
nuggets, fish bites, fries, and a variety of other food that probably had limited
nutritional value, although Aaron did order up a couple of salads too, giving
Mateo a spoonful of one which, in spite of his complaints, he ate.
    Aaron also ordered a bottle of Marlborough
Cabernet Merlot, and Bridget didn’t refuse a glass when he offered it to her.
She sipped it, enjoying the taste of blackcurrant with notes of cloves and
spice. Mal hated red wine. For some reason, that seemed to make it taste even
more delicious. It slid down to her stomach, warming her all the way, and she
welcomed that too, feeling as if she’d been cold for millennia.
    For a while, they didn’t talk much, not
about anything personal, anyway. They watched a quiz show, Aaron and Mateo
obviously playing an old game where they gave random answers to each question,
making each other laugh the more outrageous the answers became until in the end
Bridget was smiling too, caught up in their camaraderie.
    He had a lovely relationship with the boy—firm
and yet friendly. She could imagine he was great with dogs—they’d be well
trained and well behaved, but they’d adore him, and she understood why.
    He was obviously divorced from Mateo’s
mother—or separated, at least. His tone on the phone to her had held a
frustration she knew only too well. Why was he in a hotel? Did he stay here all
the time? She wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to question him in