Ami followed. “It won't be that long till I'm back. Especially now.”
Michael glanced at her. “Especially now?”
“Now that I have another date with Andre.”
For just a moment, Michael studied her. He didn’t have much experience with women trying to get close to him using Andre because he simply didn't introduce Andre to many women, but it had happened a couple of times. Women in Autre knew about Andre, of course. One of Andre's first-grade teachers had flirted with Michael extensively every time they had any event at school. Another woman had set up three awkward play dates between her son and Andre before Andre finally told Michael that he didn't like the other boy and didn't want to keep spending time with him.
But as Ami boosted herself onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar and propped her elbows on the marble surface, twirling a finger through her hair, seemingly lost in thought, Michael couldn't quite convince himself that she was doing this to get closer to him.
Besides, Ami didn't have to use Andre. She and Michael had plenty of reasons to be thrown together. If she wanted to spend time around him, all she had to do was show up in Autre and attend family functions.
“Does he jump from thing to thing very often?” Ami asked.
Michael turned away from the coffee machine where he’d started a single cup brewing.
She actually looked a little worried.
“No, he doesn't jump around a lot. He'll probably be into Warriors for a year or so. Maybe longer.”
“Oh.” She slumped onto the breakfast bar in obvious relief. “Good. I was afraid I was getting my hopes up about having a long-term Warriors buddy, and then he’d move on.”
“I'm just saying you don't come down here very often. By the time you come back, he might be into something new,” Michael pressed. He didn’t want Andre to get his hopes up here.
“But I can come back more often. And we’ll call and video chat.”
Michael leaned back against the counter, his fingers curling into the edge. “You don't have to. He's nine. He has friends his own age.”
“But…I don’t.”
Michael pinned her with a look. “Yes, you do.”
“Not really. I know people my age. I spend time with people my age. But my closest friends are probably Charlie and Abi. And they drive me nuts. And would maybe let me paint their faces, but would probably not go to Comic-Con.”
“You want to take Andre to Comic-Con?”
She nodded her head quickly. “Very much.”
“Ami…” But he wasn’t sure what to say. Would he let this woman take his child across the country to a con where they would dress up as their favorite fictional characters and mingle with other super fans for a weekend? Of course he would.
He was probably just really tired.
She propped her chin on her hand and studied him across the few feet that separated them. “One of the reasons I started playing Warriors and really got into it, was because it made me feel grounded while I was at the pageants and traveling for modeling shoots.”
He tightened his grip on the counter. “How so?”
“People have always watched me and, literally, judged me. What they see on the surface, how I look, how I talk, and how I present myself to them is all they know. I loved standing up there knowing that I had a whole secret side—an actual second persona—that none of them knew about.”
Michael felt his heartrate kick up. He didn’t understand why completely, but this was the longest conversation he and Ami had ever had. Ever. Period. And definitely one of only a handful they’d had one on one. And she was telling him something that felt very personal.
“After pageants or now, after a long day on a shoot or after a big fancy party, I go back to my room, get into my pajamas, log into the game, and feel…comfortable. I find my friends, who have no idea what I really look like, and get to hang out in a world that’s magical and fun. And it’s always there. No matter where I am, I can be in that world with those people. Especially after I started traveling alone more, that became like taking a teddy bear along or something. My friends and this world where I can be whatever I want to be are just a few clicks away. It makes it easier to stand up on stage or smile into the camera because I know the model Ami is only one part of me. It feels less superficial.”
“That…makes sense,” Michael admitted, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding. Not only was she telling him personal details, but he liked them. He'd always liked Ami. She'd always been wonderful with Andre. But this made him like her and feel closer to her. Which was probably trouble. “I never would have thought of any of that.”
She nodded and was quiet for a few seconds. But she kept watching him. Finally she asked, “Why don't you want me to be friends with your kid?”
He jerked upright. “I never said that.”
“Then what's the problem? You seem uncomfortable with me liking Warriors and having this relationship with Andre.”
“I just…” What was he saying? That all of this was a huge surprise? That seeing her with Andre was making him feel some things he wasn't completely comfortable with? But that his discomfort was certainly not anything like not wanting it to continue. In fact, it was uncomfortable in the way that he thought she and Andre together were actually pretty amazing and he was maybe a little jealous—he did not want to analyze that—and he wished he'd been around to watch them interact more.
“I guess I just didn't expect any of this.”
“Because you think I’m shallow and only care about silly things like shoes and makeup and hair extensions, and that if he's not old enough to drink and party with me that I can’t be interested?”
“I—” Michael started to respond and stopped himself.
He made himself actually think about what she just said. Was that how he thought of her? Okay, maybe a little. But that wasn’t fair. She partied and had a great time at crawfish boils and around the family table at Ellie’s but…everyone did.
“Okay,” he said carefully. “You spend your time in circles very different than the people who hang out down here in Autre. You rub elbows with the rich and famous. Your face is all over social media. Companies use you to sell their clothes and sunscreen. People you've never met know who you are. I'd be willing to bet money that a few famous people know who you are. You wear outfits that cost more than Andre's entire wardrobe. I'm not judging you. I'm just surprised to find you wearing green face paint and that you want to hang out with my kind-of geeky kid at Comic-Con.”
She sat up straighter on the stool. Then she nodded. “That's all reasonable. I guess I'm assuming a lot about you too.”
He lifted a brow. “Oh really?”
“I need coffee.” She slipped off the stool and padded across the room. It was the first time he’d noticed that she was barefoot. Of course she was. She wouldn't have spent the whole evening and slept on the couch in shoes.
She had a streak of bright orange and purple paint across the top of one foot. Her toenails were painted a bright blue and he noted that her feet were delicate and graceful. Two pretty stupid words to apply to such a common part of the body.