The Perfect Mistake (The Connovan Chronicles #2)

by Olivia Hayle

“You don’t need to make big changes,” I say. “You’re a great dad. But… maybe a few more core memories. Practice piano with her sometimes. Let her watch you play. Take a trip to Disneyland, tell them you’re proud of them and that you love them. Do a few things like that… and they’ll be golden. You have great kids.”

“I don’t want you to. No one has spoken back to me like that in years. Keep speaking your mind. Tell me when I’m wrong, and shout at me if I mess up. I can take it,” Alec says. “You’re my equal.” “I’m your kids’ nanny and your employee,” I say. “Equal isn’t even close.” “Fuck that. That’s just a job. That belongs to the world out there.” He nods to the gym door, shut behind us. “It holds no weight here, not between us, and not if we’re going to do this.” “If we’re going to do this,” I repeat softly. “You mean…?” “Yes, that’s what I mean. I need you to talk to me freely if we’re going to sleep together. When we sleep together.”

“Was the only reason you stopped the other night because you thought I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I like?” “Yes,” he says. But then he leans closer, his breath ghosting over mine. “And I didn’t have any condoms.” Oh.

“Isabel,” he mutters. He glides his hands down the sides of my body, fingers just barely touching the outer curves of my tits and waist. They land on my hips and pull me closer. “What do you want to do next?” I wet my lips. “Right now?” There’s a smile in his voice. “Well, I only have minutes until I need to wake the kids up, so no. But between us. When do you want me? And how?” The questions, asked in his deep, hoarse voice, make my head spin. Somehow, I thought he’d take charge. I wanted him to. Wanted to fall into his arms and let him sweep me away. But I don’t say that. It feels… Well. Vulnerable, I suppose. To say those kinds of things out loud. “Still shy?” His hand slides down my thigh, grabbing the back of my knee. He pulls it up and wraps it around his hip. “Maybe you can read some of those books of yours. Get some inspiration. Use their language.” That makes my cheeks heat even further. If he only knew. But the way he looks at me makes me think he does. “What do you want to do next?” I murmur. He shakes his head, but there’s a slow smile spreading over his lips. It makes everything inside of me tighten. “Sweetheart, every filthy thing there is. I want to make you come against my tongue again. I want to spend a night seeing how many condoms we can go through. I want you naked, pleasure-drunk, and tired in my bed.” He kisses me again, and it’s slow and deep. “But most of all, I want to learn every single way to give you an orgasm, so I can do it over and over again...

Alec drops his forehead to mine with a groan. “Shit,” he says. I stroke him again and feel his cock pulse beneath my fingers. He really does seem big, and apprehension mingles with excitement. “Fuck. Stop, sweetheart. We don’t have the time.” But he groans again when I grip him over his shorts, and doesn’t make a move to stop me. “I hate that I have plans tonight.” “You’re big,” I say. He swallows. “Never compared it to anyone else’s. Fuck, Isa, I can’t take it. Not when I can’t take my time with you.” He steps back, a pained expression on his face, and rearranges himself. That makes me smile. “Payback,” I say. “If you’re giving me ‘a task,’ the least I can do is make you hurt a little in return.”

“Trust me, I am in pain,” he says. “But I’m used to it by now.”

“Yeah. When was the last time you spoke with him?” I ask. She cocks her head. “I think… three weeks ago now, give or take. Right before the wedding party that he didn’t bother attending.” “I’m sorry he did that,” I say. Connie shakes her head. “Don’t. He’s his own person,” she says. “Eventually, he’ll realize that me marrying a Thompson doesn’t mean I’m a traitor to our business… or he won’t. And that’ll have to be okay.” Nate nods into his beer like they’ve had this conversation before. I frown at her. “He’ll accept it.” “Will he?” she asks dryly. “Maybe, but if he’s expecting me to come crawling with an apology, I won’t. I’ll never apologize for falling in love with Gabriel.”

Another wave of guilt washes over me. I shouldn’t want Isabel the way I do. Even if she’s a fully grown woman, even if I’ve never known her as anything but. Even if it doesn’t feel wrong when she’s in my arms. I doubt others will see it that way.

Isabel: I know what I want now. I left my Kindle on your bedside table. The first five books have highlighted parts in them… if you want to check them out.

“So, Isabel. How are things going, working with Con’s best friend?” The fucker. “It’s going fine.” “Just fine, or better than fine?” “Just fine,” I say. He leans back in the booth and stretches his legs out under the table. “She’s really beautiful, isn’t she? I didn’t realize until I met her at Connie and Gabriel’s wedding party.” I narrow my eyes at him. “I hadn’t noticed.” “No? Well, I’m sure you won’t mind if I ask her out,” Nate says. My hand tightens around the beer. It’s irrational, the anger, but it rises to the surface anyway. And it’s tinged with an emotion I haven’t felt in years. Jealousy. Of Nate. Who’s charming and funny, and doesn’t have two kids to take care of and a company to run. Isabel could do worse… like me. And that’s not a happy thought. Nate chuckles. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.” “You live in London,” I say. “It wouldn’t be practical.” “Mm-hmm. Smart,” he says with a nod. “Look, just be open and honest with her, okay?” I cross my arms over my chest. “About what?” But Nate doesn’t waver. “About what you can offer her, and what you can’t. Have you even been with anyone since Vicky died?” I don’t answer him. This convo is the last thing I wanted out of tonight, the absolute last fucking thing, so I glance over my shoulder. But Connie’s still in the bathroom. Nate’s staring me down like he expects my response. I stare back at him, daring him to cave. But he doesn’t. Seems like both of my siblings are determined to be rebellious tonight. “Yes,” I final...

“I thought you were working today.” “I made some changes to my schedule.” He glances at me briefly before pouring another round of batter. “Someone told me about the importance of making memories.” “Oh.”

My stomach feels tight with anticipation. Did he read it? What did he think? I didn’t put the worst of the worst in there, but some of the scenes were graphic. Detailed. The language wouldn’t shock a romance reader, but he isn’t one. Maybe he’s disgusted. Outraged. Turned off.

“Ben lives across the river.” “He does?” I ask. I don’t have a clue who that is. “Which river?” Sam’s quiet for a long moment. “The watery one.” That makes me chuckle. Alec huffs too, an amused sound, and sits down next to me on the blanket. “It’s a friend from his kindergarten class who moved to Brooklyn. That’s the East River, buddy.”

“This was a good idea,” I say. He nods, still looking straight ahead. “Yeah. I’m just sorry it took you getting upset for me to have it.” “That’s okay. You guys see Central Park every day from the living room windows. I imagine it’s hard to notice what’s so close sometimes.” That makes his lips curl, but it doesn’t look like a happy smile. “Yeah. Hard to see, indeed. Isabel… I didn’t read what you left for me last night.” “Oh.” He turns and looks at me, and I recognize the conflict in his hazel eyes. He’s, somehow, again the man I’ve met through Connie and saw over the years, determined and in control, but he’s also the man I’ve grown to care for. The man who struggles with needing something he thinks he shouldn’t. “This thing between us isn’t fair to you, and I can’t… We can’t let it happen again. I’m sorry.” I nod, slowly. He’s retreating. Again. The wash of rejection floods me, but I keep the disappointment off my face. He wants me, I think. But he won’t let himself have anything that he wants. “You’re not ready for any kind of relationship,” I say. He’s quiet, but then he nods. “Right. You’re Connie’s friend, and I don’t want to interfere with that, or with your job. The way I’ve been acting has already been inappropriate enough.” “Maybe it’s only inappropriate if it’s unwanted,” I say with a shrug that looks far more nonchalant than I feel. “But it’s up to you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he says. “You know that.” My breathing speeds up, and I focus on the kids instead. Watching the ball as it rolls over leaves-covered grass. “I know that. I just wish it would be enough.” His hand lingers on top of mine. “It is.” “It’s clearly not,” I whisper. “You said you felt a lot of guilt, the other day. Is this… do you feel it because of me, too?” “Isabel,” he mutters. “I feel so guilty it’s eating⁠—” The ball comes rolling straight at us.

Later that afternoon, I feel numb as I’m getting ready for my drink date with Connie. And I feel irritated and want to vent to her, tell her about the man currently giving me whiplash, the man I’ve wanted for so long but who, even when he wants me back, won’t choose to have me. And I can’t.

“I called Mac,” he says. “He’s downstairs, and on standby for later.” “You shouldn’t have done that,” I say. He shakes his head. “I should have done it last time, too.” “Have any of the other nannies been offered car service?” I ask. There’s an edge to my voice. He frowns, and the non-answer is answer enough. He wants me, I think again. Just not enough. “Have fun tonight,” he says. “You too.”

“Alec?” He shakes his head slowly, a pained expression on his face. “I tried. I… fuck it. I read what you left for me,” he says. “It was… very enlightening.” He’s read it all. I can’t believe I showed him. The books I’d chosen… they’re all some of my favorites, but they’re not anything that could be considered tame. A non-romance reader would call it straight-up porn. But he said he wouldn’t read it. He’d drawn a line in the sand. “I don’t understand you,” I say. “You said you wouldn’t look at it. You were the one who said we couldn’t do this!” “We shouldn’t,” he says. His face looks strained. “I shouldn’t… but I can’t stop thinking about you. Every minute since we talked, I’ve hated that I put a stop to things. You’re stuck in my head, sweetheart, and I can’t get you out. It’s only gotten worse after being with you the other night. After reading this. Fuck, I’ve been replaying the sounds of you coming, and wanting nothing but to hear them again.” He closes the distance between us and cups my face. It’s a tender movement, at odds with the frustration etched on his features. “I shouldn’t be doing this. But fuck it, I can’t seem to stay away.” “Do you mean it this time?” I whisper. He lowers his head to mine. His kiss takes my breath away. It’s not like the slow ones he’s so good at, the ones that raise my heart rate with each press of his lips. This is a firestorm from the first touch.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters. I grip his upper arms. “So do you. Telling me to learn what I like, and to figure out how to tell you, and then you shut the whole thing down?” He gives a hoarse chuckle that tickles the skin over my collarbone. “I was trying my best to not give into temptation. But I’m just a man, and I can’t fight it anymore.”

“They’re just boobs.” And tiny ones at that. I’ve always been small-chested, an A most days and a B on the best of them. It had been an asset in ballet, and for that, I’d been grateful. But it’s never been a body part I love. Alec leans down and wraps his arms around my waist, and his mouth captures my left nipple. I close my eyes. Oh. He uses his teeth, and his stubble scrapes over my skin. I’ve always liked this but didn’t know it could feel this good. “There’s nothing just about them,” he mutters. “You have perfect tits.”

I don’t know how long he works me, but it’s till I’m at the very edge. I tug on his shoulders. “Alec. I want you.” He looks up at me with eyes that are near-black. All pupils, and all desire. “I can do this all night.” I shake my head. “This is me telling you what I want. That’s what you wanted, right? Well, I want you.” A smile ghosts over his lips. “You want me to do what?” “Fuck me,” I whisper. He slides another finger inside of me. “You’re ready for me, too, aren’t you.” “Yes,” I breathe. “So wet and so pretty.” He kisses my clit a final time, making me shiver, before he rises. I step out of my panties and reach for his bottoms, wanting to tug them down and off. He lets me this time.

“Sweetheart, you have to be in control of this, because I can’t. I have no control left in me.” “Good.” I run my nails over his chest, and he hisses out a breath. “I don’t want you in control.”

“That’s it,” he mutters. His voice is raspy and deep, and I close my eyes, focusing on it and the feelings. “You look so good, sweetheart. So good at riding me. And fuck you’re so pretty. Too pretty, it hurts to look at you, but I can’t look away. That’s it, Isa… that’s it. You feel so good, too good. I need to feel it when you come around me.” I do.

“Well done,” he murmurs. “You’re so pretty when you come for me.”

“I was rough.” “I liked it.” “Mm-hmm. I’ve craved you for so long,” he says. It comes out as a matter-of-fact, but it makes warmth spread through my chest. He’s still frowning as he traces the inside of my other thigh, pushing the two apart wider. The intensity of his scrutiny between my legs makes me a bit self-conscious. “Hopefully you won’t be too sore.” That makes me chuckle. He looks up, eyebrows raised. “What?” “I’ve been sore most days of my life. I used to stretch and dance for a living. I’ll be perfectly fine.” His expressions turns into anger. “Fuck. Your hip. I shouldn’t have wrapped your legs around me.” “First of all, I did that, and it was perfectly fine. As long as you don’t want me to do twelve consecutive fouettés in bed, we’re good.”

“What are you thinking?” I whisper. His index finger traces along one of my ribs. “That you’re just as beautiful as I imagined, and feel even better than I hoped,” he says. “You sound like that’s a problem.” “It is,” he says. But there’s a tilt to his lips. “Because I’m not going to be satisfied with just once, sweetheart. Figuring out what turns you on is my new favorite thing.”

“Tell me,” he says, and his voice is the raspy one I love the most. “What things from those books do you want to do in real life?” I chuckle. “Alec.” “Tell me,” he repeats. His hand caresses my left hipbone. “If it’s too hard to say, I’ll give you options from what I read. Dirty talk?” I turn my head into his shoulder. “Yes. I… yes. I’d like that a lot.” “Mmm. Praise, maybe.” His hand brushes down to my thigh, fingers sweeping. “I’ll keep telling you how good you feel. Look. Taste.” I close my eyes. “Yeah. That sort of thing. If it’s real, of course.” He chuckles. It’s a husky sound, and my eyes fly open again. I have to look at him when he laughs like that. It warms his entire face. “Sweetheart, talking dirty to you will be the easiest thing I’ll ever do.” “Oh.” I run my fingers along his jaw. His five o’clock shadow is heavier tonight. “I could do the same, you know.” “Mmm. Tell me I’m your good girl?” My eyes widen, and then I chuckle. “Yes, if that’s what turns you on.” “I think I’ll call you that instead, if you like. Lord knows it’s the truth. You’re so good, it’s painful.” He drops his mouth to my neck, kissing across the sensitive skin. “Sex in public?” he asks. “That was in one of the scenes you highlighted. I would be game, but I have too much on the line for that. ” “Oh. No... that’s fine. It’s not my jam, either.” He pauses. “Then, what was it about that scene in particular that you liked?” “Um. The quickie? I liked how the hero just kinda… went for it. Because...

“Alec,” I say. I don’t know what I want to say. The feelings I’ve always had for him are lurking right beneath the surface, so close now that he’s here, holding me, touching me, and I feel high on the sensations. “Yes?” “Don’t pull away again,” I whisper. His fingers speed up, moving like my own but better, and I bend my knees to give him greater access. “I won’t be able to,” he says. “Who would make you come so prettily?” That makes me sigh softly. “Exactly.” “Can you come for me again, like a good girl?” he asks. I close my eyes against his shoulder, my breathing increasing with the praise. Hearing him say those things in his deep voice, with his hand between my legs… giving him my Kindle had been a great idea. “Yes,” I whisper, and the sensations sweep me away.

Alec: Tonight, I want you to tell me why that sex scene on a boat that you highlighted turned you on so much, and I want you to do it while you’re riding my face.

Two small bags of candy, one for each. Isabel gives me a small smile. “Sorry, I hadn’t planned on you joining, or I would have hidden three.” “I have my own sweets,” I say. It comes out a bit hoarse, and she glances away. But not before I saw in her eyes that she took my meaning. Fuck. I can’t say things like that.

“So you’re a deprived man, is that what you’re saying?” “Incredibly.” I kiss her again and grip her ass in my hands, encouraging her to keep grinding against me. “I’ve never needed anyone this much.”

“What about you?” “Huh?” “When did you have sex last.” “I think it was last night.” I chuckle against her collarbone. “Smart-ass. Come on, tell me.” “A… year ago. Maybe a bit more.”

“Morning, day, and night,” I tell her. “You don’t know how crazy you’ve driven me.” She’s breathing hard against my ear, and her hand strokes me over the fabric. “Really?” “I’ve jerked off more since you moved in than in the last few years.” “Where?” I lean my head against the couch and watch her lust-filled eyes. I could watch her forever when she’s like this. Fully in her body, and flushed with a fever she can’t slake alone. “The shower every morning. The bed every night.” She blinks. “The shower?” “Yes.” “I want to see.” I lift an eyebrow. “You want me to grab a shower now?” She digs her teeth into her lower lip, like she’s suddenly realized that she made a demand. Come on, baby, I think. I want her to verbalize it. “Yes. Now,” she says.

It feels like another challenge. To give her the best orgasms she’s ever had, and to fulfill every fantasy she’s only read about. This won’t last. I know it with bone-deep certainty, the way nothing good in life ever lasts, but damn it if I can’t give her the best sex of her life in the meantime. I want to ruin her for all future men.

“Every morning,” I tell her, “I’d wake up hard and thinking about you. It would drive me insane. I knew it was wrong. Knew I shouldn’t think about you that way.” Stepping out of my clothes, I walk into the shower. Turn on the warm water. It cascades from above in a gentle spray. I’ve left the glass door open, and she leans against it, watching me. “Why,” she breathes. Her eyes are on my body, and I let her look. I run a hand down my stomach and along my cock. “Why I shouldn’t think about you?” “Mm-hmm.” I grip myself and groan at the pressure. It’s been twenty-four hours of anticipation, of wanting to be right back here, with her. I pump in a long slow stroke, squeezing right at my head. “Because you’re good, and you’re so young. Nobody would understand,” I say. She stares at me, breathing heavily. “Our age difference isn’t that big.” “Big enough,” I say. Fifteen years isn’t nothing. “Too big for the people in our lives not to question it. My sister asked me to help you, and you came to me for a job. You’re my employee. Still, there I was,” I say, stroking myself from base to head, “coming to thoughts of you every morning.” Her breath catches. “Here, in this shower.” I brace one hand against the tile wall. “Yes. Here in this shower.”

“Did you come in the shower?” she asks. “Yes.” I slide my hand between her legs and stroke her silky skin. I nudge her entrance. “I’d think of coming inside you, of filling you up right here.” Her breath whooshes out of her on a soft exhale. One of her hands keeps stroking my cock and the other is rubbing my balls, pressing up at the base of my shaft. “You thought about coming inside me.” “Isa, I’ve thought about it a million times.” I rest my forehead against hers and close my eyes. Fuck, her hands on me feel too good. “It’s all I’ve thought about. My hand on my cock, thinking about your mouth, your tits, your pussy.” Somehow her grip gets tighter, better, hotter. “Come for me now, then,” she murmurs against my cheek. “Come all over my stomach.”

“And here I was planning on giving you a blow job,” she murmurs. “Shame you didn’t last longer.” I glide my hands down to cup her firm ass, giving one cheek a soft smack. “There’s always later,” I say. “How old do you think I am?”

“I wanted you, too,” she murmurs, leaning her head back against my shoulder. “For months, before this.” I close my eyes against the softly spoken admission. My plan was to ruin her for all future partners, to be the best sex she’s ever had, even if I can’t be the man for her. I never anticipated that she’d ruin me too.

It feels like another death of my career. Maybe that’s a hyperbolic feeling, but it’s what I’m thinking now. The door has closed. The path is blocked. Isabel Morales the ballerina. It’s an identity that will slowly be worn away, like the tag on a well-used piece of clothing. It’ll fade, and, gradually, I’ll get a new one. Isabel Morales, the nanny. The yoga instructor. The college student. But right now, I’m just Isabel, and I’m lost.

“Have you considered other options?” “Yes,” I murmur. “But every single one feels like defeat.” “Other professional ballerinas must have changed careers,” he says. He reaches down and grabs my knee, pulling my leg over his body until I’m half-draped over him. “What have they gone on to do?” That question makes my tears slow. “Their lives are pretty varied. If they were fairly famous, some have become… experts in the field. But most… I don’t know.” “Can you contact one of them? Ask for advice?” I blink against his shirt. “Yes. I suppose.” “Good,” he murmurs. His right hand drifts over my head, my hair, down my back. “And while you’re at it, give me the contact details for this choreographer.” “Why?” “Because I want to make sure he never works again.”

“How did you handle it?” “Handle what?” he asks. “You lost the future you had planned for, the future you thought you’d have. Your… identity as a husband. How did it not tear you apart?” He swipes his thumb over my cheek, catching the tear. Tucks my hair behind my ear. “It did tear me apart,” he says quietly. “Oh.” “But I had an identity, sweetheart. I had two others. I was a new father and a Connovan. It kept me going. You have other identities, too.” “They’re feeling really weak at the moment.” “Of course they are. But you’ll find them. You’re a sister and a daughter. You’re a friend. You’re a hard worker. You’re kind.” He says the last word like it pains him, his thumb smoothing over my lower lip. “You’ll land on your feet. People always do, even if it hurts like hell to get there.” I take a shaky breath. “You did.” “Did I?” he asks. But there’s a trace of wry humor in his voice. “Yes, I suppose I did. We all did.” “I can’t imagine how hard that must have been. Two kids, and all on your own.” He looks at the curve of my ear, his fingers brushing over the shell. “Sam was only six months old when she passed, and I became the CEO a year after that.” “I can’t believe you juggled it both. I can’t believe you still do.” “Well, I don’t do it very well, according to you,” he says with a lift of his lips. There’s no accusation in his voice. Just calm acceptance. I shake my head. “No, no, you do. It’s impressive. You’re impressive.” “I have help. Including you, and you’re the imp...

“Shit, you’re flexible.” “Professional hazard.” Another shudder goes through him and his movements shift, becoming faster, harder. He looks down at where he’s entering me, and with the new angle, it’s easier to see. “You take me so good, Isa,” he mutters. “Look at that. Look how well I fit inside you.”

“That wasn’t one of your highlighted fantasies,” he murmurs against my shoulder. “Vanilla missionary sex.” Yes it was, I think. It just wasn’t on my Kindle.

“Be good for me one final time,” he murmurs, “and fall asleep.”

Things don’t have to end up the way you planned for them to be wonderful. And that’s something I can work with.

His left hand brushes over my cheek. “This view,” he rasps. “I could watch you with my cock in your mouth forever.” Oh.

“That,” he murmurs against my cheek, “was fucking unreal. I can’t believe you came here.” “I can’t believe I came, either.” “I can,” he says. His hand plays between my legs, touching my sensitive clit, and I push him away. His chuckle turns into a laugh. “God. Now I know what I’m missing every other workday.” “I can come back. Do this again.” “Mm-hmm. I wouldn’t get any work done, but somehow, I don’t think I’d mind.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs softly. “I feel amazing.” That makes me giggle again. “That was my goal.” “I don’t… Isabel, never stop being my nanny.” I wrap an arm around his neck. “Oh? Is this officially included in my duties, then?” His teeth dig into the side of my neck, and I swat at his hair. “Yes. I’ll add it into your contract. Keep your boss thoroughly drained at all times.” “Drained, huh?” “Drained dry,” he says.

“You’re making me feel twenty years younger, like a teenager again, with how much I need you and how often I want to come.” “You’re still young,” I say. He raises an eyebrow, and there’s a self-deprecating glint in his eyes. “No, I’m not, sweetheart. Not the way you are. Now let’s move. I have an en suite.”

“I hope I’m the first woman you’ve ever fucked on your desk.” He turns to follow me, his hands in his pockets. “You are the first,” he says. “I’ll never be able to look at that desk the same way again.” I pull on my coat. “Well… mission accomplished.” He smiles at me. I smile back at him. There’s another ping from his calendar, and I laugh. “Okay, okay. You’re a very busy man. I’ll leave.” “I wish I wasn’t,” he says. “Round two doesn’t sound so bad.” “Tonight,” I say. He nods and reaches down, adjusting himself through his pants with a wry smile. That makes me chuckle, and I hoist my bag up on my shoulder. “Okay. Bye.” “Bye,” he says. “Go conquer the world.” “Already conquered,” he says. It’s such a cocky thing to say that I roll my eyes. He looks like a conquerer, too, standing there with his watchful eyes and in his pristine suit, with a messed-up desk and the New York City skyline behind him. “Rule it well, then,” I say. “I always do.”

“The power to have endless bowls of cereals,” Isabel tells Sam. “No matter how much you eat, it’s always full.” He makes a low oohing sound. “The power to… blow bubbles!” “Oh yes, that’s a good one. You’d distract bad guys with that, for sure,” she says. “Willa, do you have a weird superpower idea?” My daughter turns, walking backward and looking at us with bright eyes. “Hmm. Maybe… the power to grow grass.” “Grass?” “Mm-hmm. Like really tall grass.” That makes me chuckle. “The bad guys will definitely be confused if you throw around lawns right and left.” Willa smiles at me. “Daddy, what’s yours?” The ability to stop time, I think, looking at her. Feeling Sam’s small hand in mine and Isabel’s calm presence. Before they grow up… and before Isabel leaves. “Sneezing super hard,” I say. “It’ll knock the bad guys right out.” Both Sam and Willa laugh. They’re easily entertained, and I glance to the side, watching Isabel. “That was inspiring,” she says. “Thank you.” “You should write a children’s book about him,” she teases. I shake my head. “I think I like your superpower with the cereal more. Far more useful.”