I peered at him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he responded tersely.

“Were you expecting him?”

“No,” he snapped. “He called earlier and told me he’d call me back later, or I would never have had you meet me here.”

I’d bitten back my irritation long enough. “Do you want to tell me what that was about?”

Michael grabbed Clementine’s coat from the hook and put it on her. “You know what that was about.”

His tone told me everything I needed to know.

This was about her.

He sighed and then spoke softly. “The mess she left behind is catching up with me sooner than I anticipated. I thought I had more time.”

“What did he say?”

Michael closed his eyes. “He told me time’s almost up.”

“What are you going to do?”

He stared at me without answering.

“Who is he, anyway?” I asked as a new wave of terror overtook me.

The diaper bag was on the floor and he picked it up. “Someone you don’t want to piss off. It’s best if you pretend you never saw him.”

“What’s his full name?” I pressed as I slipped my trench coat on and then my hat.

Michael opened the front door. “Sean McPherson.”

The cool wind hit my face and it blew my hat off when I stepped outside. “What does he do?”

“He’s an attorney in Dorchester.”

I walked down the steps and waited on the brick sidewalk. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter what he does. What matters is that you stay away from him.” He sounded annoyed.

It pissed me off.

“I got that the first time you told me that.”

Without a second glance, he looked away.

I was exasperated but knew he wasn’t going to say anything else. We’d been having the same type of conversation for the past three months.

“Where’d you park?” he asked.

“Around the corner.”

Michael’s Mercedes was sitting right in front of us. He nodded his head. “Get in. I’ll drive you there.”

I shook my head. “No, I think I’ll walk.”

“Are you okay?” he asked as he unlocked the doors.

“Yes, I’m fine. I just need some air.”

Michael bent to buckle Clementine into her car seat and I flashed him a disgusted look. I couldn’t believe he was really going to pull the “it’s for your own benefit” crap.

When Clementine was secure in her seat, he turned toward me with remorse in his eyes. “I’m not purposefully keeping you in the dark.”

With my brows raised, I responded emphatically, “Yes, you are.”

Again, he glanced away. “Okay, you’re right. I just don’t want you involved.”

“But I already am.”

Michael shook his head and took a step toward me. “Stop saying that.”

I sighed in frustration.

Michael gently put his hands on my arms. “Don’t let McPherson rattle you. He went to school with my father; they’re old friends. He’s a hothead, but he wouldn’t hurt me.”

I wasn’t so sure.

Having had enough, I shrugged out of his hold and stepped around him to kiss Clementine. “See you soon, baby girl,” I said to her and nuzzled her nose.

I hated saying goodbye.

Michael opened his door. “You all set for tomorrow?”

“I’ve just got a few more things to do. I’m heading there now to finish up.”

He gave me an encouraging nod. “Let me know what I can do to help.”

I smiled and said, “I think I have it all under control.”

“I know you do. You’ve done a fantastic job.”

Praise wasn’t what I looking for. The wind was cold and I dug into my pockets for my gloves. “Thanks.”

“’Bye, Elle,” he said, staring at me for a beat. When he got in the car and started it, he glanced at me before shutting his door. “I’m sorry I was short with you earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I told him.

Michael closed the door and turned back to check on Clementine.

He was a good father.

I waved goodbye as the tires rolled forward, and then I put my gloves on and shoved my red felt hat farther down on my head.

As I walked up the sidewalk, I occupied my mind by trying to avoid getting my heels stuck in the cracks between the bricks.

It gave me something to do—I was feeling restless. I wasn’t used to staying in one place for so long and it was beginning to catch up to me.

I gave up on not ruining my favorite boots when the late March drizzle began to fall and I had to move briskly to avoid getting too wet. As soon as I turned onto Tremont Street, I immediately saw that my rear tire was flat.

“Crap,” I muttered as I stood there and the rain started falling harder.

I looked around for shelter. The corner bar I must have passed at least a dozen times was only a few feet away. I decided to go in and call AAA from there.

I didn’t want to bother Michael about something I could take care of.

My damp, thin raincoat clung to my body and I reminded myself I should really buy a coat that was functional, not just fashionable. Shaking my head, I hurried toward the door to Molly’s Pub, getting wetter and wetter with each passing moment.

As soon as I entered the vestibule, it was quiet enough for me to make the call. The operator connected me to the nearest station. “The mechanic will be at least thirty minutes,” the attendant told me.

Contemplating what to do, I decided on a drink. “That’s fine. I’ll be at the bar at Molly’s.”

“Wait,” she called. “What number should the mechanic call when he arrives?”

I gave her my cell but doubted I’d hear my phone. The music was already pretty loud from here. “Also, in case he has to come in, I’m wearing black—black raincoat, black pants—oh, and a red hat,” I added.

She huffed and sounded annoyed. “Normally we ask that you wait by your vehicle but since it’s raining, I’ll let him know how to recognize you if he can’t reach you.”

“Thank you,” I told her before hanging up.

Once I’d tucked my phone back inside my purse, I pulled open the interior door to reveal a very crowded bar. Not only was I certain I would never hear my phone, but there was also no way the mechanic was going to be able to spot me in here.

I’d have to keep my eyes peeled for him.

The large room was dimly lit, glowing with soft white light. There was a steady pulse of music. A small dance floor was filled with people. Most were standing close and talking, others were already dancing. The DJ booth was already manned and larger than the dance floor. Still, the bar was the showpiece. Glass lit shelves displayed bottle after bottle of liquor, in addition to glasses in every shape and size.

The space was eclectic. The dark paneling and old-fashioned parquet wood floors flowed into the modern space from the vestibule. I liked it.

The pub, as it was called, was more like a club, and it was jam-packed with the happy hour crowd. I considered leaving but decided against it.

It had been a long week, and one drink was deserved.

As if moving in slow motion, I tried to push through the crowd.

I wasn’t dressed like the other women. Wearing leggings, boots, and a simple long-sleeved cream-colored blouse that buttoned up the front, I was dressed for winter even though it was spring. Most of these women had stripped out of their work jackets and sweaters to reveal sexy camisoles or sheer tops. They had planned for their night out.

The large bar was so crowded that I had to squeeze my way through to it. A shove, a push, another shove, and I’d been turned around. That’s when I saw another room that was also dimly lit, but seemed a lot calmer.

Unbuttoning my coat, I made a beeline for the space, ignoring the men who stared and women who leered. Booths lined the walls and there was a smaller bar with dozens of beer taps behind it. Still crowded, but nothing like the other side; I could at least move without being jostled. Luckily, a space opened up at the bar, and as I walked toward it, the female bartender glanced up from the person she was talking with.