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be my toughest case.”

      “Tougher than the spitz?”

      “Yeah. I can’t muzzle you.”

      Her mouth dropped open, then she walloped him on the arm as his brother had many times when they were kids fooling around. Amazingly, the tension between them eased.

      “So you’ll watch the DVD with Drew?” he asked.

      “We’ll see.” She started back toward her apartment.

      What did it take to get her to promise—or even agree—to anything?

      When he caught up to her, she seemed to make an effort to stay a half step ahead. Heaven forbid he should lead in any way. Headstrong woman. But there was a slight upturn to her mouth, a relaxation in her shoulders. He sensed she didn’t dislike him quite as much as she had before.

      Progress.

      As he followed her back to her apartment and his truck, he thought that, in the brief discussion of her work, he might have discovered a chink in that fortress wall she’d built around herself. The glimpse of the interior didn’t reveal dark neuroses or unclaimed baggage, but a clear, strong light that highlighted this woman’s need for self-expression and the pride she took in the results. He liked what he saw. A lot.

      AFTER A DISCONCERTING Monday morning meeting with Drew’s teachers—apparently the mention of bullying got you a school interview as quickly as the mention of chest pains put you at the head of the line in the emergency room—Selena needed a dose of Margo’s Bistro. And lunch. She was starving. As was everyone else in SOMA it seemed. There wasn’t an empty table in the café. It was so busy Margo and Robert were trapped behind the counter, and their two servers were set on fast-forward.

      Resigning herself to take-out, Selena suddenly heard her name called. “Over here!” Derrick waved from a corner table where he sat with Bailey. “Join us!”

      “Oh, yes!” The comfort of friends.

      Derrick was a contract lawyer and former single dad. He was the only male regular in their inner circle, but he’d been man enough to admit he didn’t have a clue about how to raise his two daughters. Until Bailey.

      Having made her way through the crowded room, Selena plopped into the chair Derrick pulled out. “Why don’t we ever see you anymore?” he asked. Directness had always been one of Derrick’s many admirable traits.

      “You’re seeing me right now. That’s one of the reasons I love Margo’s Bistro. It provides a public service in reuniting lost friends.”

      “You know what I mean.” He and she had been friends before he hooked up with Bailey. “You haven’t come around our place since the wedding.”

      “Geez, I thought I’d give you guys some privacy.” That wasn’t it, however. Things had changed. Derrick’s priorities—his focus—had changed, and rightfully so. Bailey and the girls were his world. Selena felt uncomfortable intruding. “So, how come you’re both here in the middle of a Monday?” she asked.

      “Oh, I had errands in the city,” Bailey replied, a twinkle in her eyes, “and I thought I’d meet my hubby for…lunch.”

      Selena didn’t know why they were at Margo’s. By the glow on both their faces, they looked as if they’d already had “lunch” at the Marriott.

      A server appeared, a new one Selena didn’t recognize. The café was such a revolving door of part-time and temporary college help Margo should apply for intern program status. “The special of the day—”

      “I’ll take it,” Selena cut in. “I’m ravenous and whatever Margo makes is terrific. How about you two?”

      “We already ordered,” Derrick said as the server disappeared. “So why are you here?”

      “I don’t want to take up your time with my kid problems.”

      “Excuse me?” Bailey feigned disbelief. “When we’re at Margo’s the official language is Kid. Spill it.”

      It was as if someone had popped the top of a shaken soft drink. Selena caught them up on Axel and Sam and Quinn and Drew and the appointment this morning.

      “Middle school is cruel,” Derrick said. He should know. His oldest was at that between stage, too. “Is Drew being bullied? What did his teachers say?”

      “They said the school has a zero-tolerance policy and a student-teacher-parent conflict resolution committee to handle problems. Drew’s never brought an issue before the committee, but his teachers say he isn’t very assertive. They say he hovers at the fringes of all the groups. He doesn’t seem to have found his niche yet. Lord knows the arts department saved me in school.”

      “Football, here,” Derrick said.

      “Academics for me,” Bailey added. “But that was high school. Drew’s not there yet.”

      “No, and it’s tough being a seventh grader who looks like a sixth grader. Even his teachers noted he’s small for his age and quiet. That in itself has made him, on occasion, a target of teasing, some jostling. Some adolescent ostracism in the cafeteria. Not overt bullying, but unpleasant and potentially damaging nonetheless….” Her eyes welled up, stopping the flood of words.

      Bailey reached across the table to lay her hand atop Selena’s.

      “His teachers told me…” This wasn’t easy. This was her baby. “To…to try to get Drew to open up. I’ve tried. But he’s shutting me out. They suggested I get him into a group extracurricular activity to build his self-esteem and encourage social skills. How could I have raised a child with low self-esteem?”

      “It’s the age,” Derrick said comfortingly. He grinned. “Plus San Francisco. I just read a great quote. Something about the city dwellers having an existential angst that comes from straddling a fault line.”

      Selena laughed despite her pain. “You’re good friends,” she said, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

      “Hey, we’ve been there,” Bailey said. “And with kids, you know we’ll be there again. And again and again and again. You’ll be there for us.”

      Derrick turned serious. “Maybe working with this Quinn guy would be helpful. Male role model and all.”

      “Oh, please.” Selena was just starting to feel better. She didn’t need to find out the light at the end of the tunnel was a locomotive. “He’s opinionated and unbending. In a word, insufferable. Not qualities conducive to letting Drew shine.”

      “But if he knows what he’s doing with dogs, if he really can get Drew to control Axel, think how good Drew will feel. About himself.”

      Selena looked squarely at Derrick. “What do you know about dogs?”

      Derrick threw his hands in the air. “In a word? Zip. Call this guy.”

      Realization dawned on Bailey’s face. “I think Drew’s not the only one with issues here. What really gives, Selena? Is this man, perhaps, attractive?”

      “Only if you’re a dog. And don’t say it.”

      “Come on. What does he look like?”

      “I didn’t notice. His alpha-male personality obscured any other impression he could have made. I think he has a head—very large, I can tell you—two arms, two legs. More than that, who knows?”

      “I don’t believe you.” Bailey nudged Derrick under the table. “I suspect you find him attractive, but I also think, if he’s as strong-willed as you say he is, you know you couldn’t wrap him around your little finger the way you do all the guys you choose to date. And that’s what bothers you.”

      “I liked it better when we were focused on Drew.”

      Their lunches arrived just in time to interrupt this nasty detour. “So, how are the girls?”

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