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have remembered.”
    â€œHe’s just a friend,” I said. “He’s dating a friend of mine.”
    â€œOh.” Dad’s face lifted. “Well, that’s good news.”
    I followed him out to the living room where Marcos was waiting, looking somehow more comfortable in his formal police blues than in jeans and a T-shirt. A cop, through and through. It occurred to me I should have told him he could have just worn a suit, but I doubted he had one.
    â€œYou look nice,” I said.
    He was staring at me with a scowl on his face. “Don’t you need a sweater or something?”
    The dress I’d chosen wasn’t as sexy as you might have believed based on the concern in both men’s eyes. It was black satin, with ruching along one side of the waist, and a hemline just below my ankles. Though my shoulders were bare, the neckline was modest, and the back was only open over my shoulders.
    The material was thin enough that I couldn’t wear panties, but I wasn’t about to tell them that.
    My dad slapped Marcos on the shoulder. “I’m liking you more by the second, kid.” Marcos managed a smile, just before my dad followed with, “I think it goes without saying that if you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Marcos mumbled.
    â€œDad.”
I reached for my clutch, and kissed him on the cheek.
    If I’d known how the night would end, I would have told him I loved him, too.
    *   *   *
    The fund-raiser was held at the Savoy Hotel downtown. Marcos had brought his cop car, which wasn’t exactly easy to squeeze into wearing a fancy dress. The monitors and radio stuck out over the passenger seat, leaving me pressed against the door with a side view of the customary pump shotgun above my head.
    â€œMy dad used to drop me off at the mall in his patrol car when I was in high school,” I told him while we parked.
    â€œBet your friends thought it was cool,” he said.
    I groaned. “Amy called it the
birth-control mobile
.”
    Marcos smirked. It occurred to me that he had brought this car for the same reason.
    When we got to the second floor where the event was being held, I gave the doorman our tickets, and we stepped into a bustling ballroom lined with enormous, half-draped windows overlooking the Bay. Men in suits and women in dresses that put mine to shame loitered in groups, taking appetizers from the waiters that passed by with trays. Along the walls on either side of the entrance were bulletin boards with blown-up quotes and testimonials from children and families who’d benefitted from the program.
    â€œWow,” said Marcos. “How much do they pay you again?”
    I slapped him on the arm. He knew the day-to-day dealings of CASA were far less glamorous.
    A woman I recognized from the courthouse smiled at me, and unconsciously I fiddled with the straps of my dress. Her white chiffon gown could have easily made a red carpet appearance at the Oscars.
    Marcos glanced at me. “Stop it,” he said. “You look fine.”
    â€œFine,” I repeated. I never felt just fine when I was with Alec. I felt hot. Scorching. I felt like the most beautiful woman who had ever walked the face of the earth.
    Marcos stilled my hand and gave it a squeeze. I looked up at him, seeing a sad sort of kindness in his eyes.
    â€œYou look really pretty.”
    â€œThanks,” I said quietly. I don’t know why it hit me right then, but I nearly told him I was going to be leaving soon. I hadn’t told Amy, or work, or even my dad really, but something about the moment made me feel like I ought to confess that secret, just so he’d know not to invest too much in our friendship.
    I think he thought I was regretting my decision to come, because he said, “Can we eat first, or do we need to find your kid?”
    I focused on Jacob. That was why I was here. To support Jacob. To support