“Tallulah is part of a research team studying in Antarctica,” Josephine said.
Lissa’s jaw dropped. “Isn’t it freezing?”
“Yes. I have to put on eight layers just to walk outside. I feel weirdly naked right now.”
Burgess coughed. Snatched up his water and drained it. “How . . . long are you here for?” asked the hockey player, once he’d set down the glass.
“Just until tomorrow morning.” Josephine and Tallulah traded a pout. “But the project runs for only another month and then it’s back to school. I’ll be working on my master’s at BU.”
“Burgess lives in Boston,” Wells pointed out absently, while looking around for the waiter. “Remind me which neighborhood, man.”
“Beacon Hill,” Burgess said.
“Is that a nice area?” Tallulah asked. “Are there parks?”
“Parks?” Burgess echoed.
Josephine nodded. “My best friend loves a park.”
“They’re free,” Tallulah explained. “You can sit in them all day. Reading, suntanning, people watching. It’s a very underrated activity.”
Lissa threw a sugar packet at Burgess. “Dad, there’s a park on our roof.”
Tallulah reared back slightly. “Okay, baller. I doubt I’ll be able to afford a neighborhood that has roof park buildings.” She grinned. “Not while I’m still in school, at least.”
“Where would you live, instead?” Burgess wanted to know.
Tallulah shrugged. “Not sure yet.”
Burgess made a long sort of grinding sound, like a car engine turning over and over and over. “We have space.”
Josephine kicked Tallulah under the table. Tallulah kicked her back.
The athlete coughed into his fist, leaned back. “The roof park has a waterfall.”
Tallulah pretended to faint.
“Dad, I thought you were going to rent that room to a nanny.” Lissa rolled her eyes at the table. “He thinks I still need one.”
“I’m going to be on the road, off and on, Lissa. Not to mention practices . . .”
“If you need to rent the room to a nanny, that’s fine. I totally understand.” Tallulah traded a conspiratorial wink with Lissa. “Lissa and I can still have a park date or two.”
Lissa’s spine snapped straight. “Unless you want to be my nanny.”
There was a tremendous amount of kicking happening beneath the table.
Wells wondered if the women knew he and Burgess could see all of it.
“I-I guess . . . I mean, that would depend on what it entails . . . ,” stuttered Tallulah.
“Fifteen hundred a week. Free room and board.” Oblivious to the fact that Tallulah’s mouth had dropped open, Burgess continued without ever once looking at Tallulah. “I wouldn’t expect you there every second of the day, just mornings, evenings.” He shifted in his seat. “Through the night. Especially while I’m not there, of course.”
“Of course,” Tallulah said quickly, she and Josephine trading some silent girl communication with their eyes, lips moving imperceptibly. Wells could only watch in fascination. “I’ll be home most nights anyway, since I’ll be studying. But I’ll need to negotiate at least two nights for social activity.”
Burgess squinted at her. “As in?”
“Partying, of course. Life can’t be all work and no play,” Tallulah said brightly. “Mornings are no problem. If my terms are acceptable, I’m . . . not sure I can say no to the offer.”
“Fine,” Burgess boomed. “Done.”
Lissa clapped her hands.
Tallulah very discreetly sipped her wine while checking out Burgess’s biceps.
Wells and Josephine turned to stare at each other.
What the hell had just happened?
Any why was . . . Josephine suddenly rocking in her seat?
Not just rocking, but kind of . . . shimmying.
Dancing.
She was dancing.
Spine snapping straight, Wells desperately tried to dig through the restaurant din to unearth the song that was playing. “California Girls.” But not the one by Katy Perry.
Tallulah let out a hoot. “Oh, they knew you were coming, Joey!”
“Holy shit.” Wells fell back in his chair. “The Beach Boys?”
“My grandparents used to play this on vinyl when I was little and went to visit. It’s in my bones,” Josephine said, wincing, but still dancing. “I’m sorry for what you’re about to witness.”