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When we walk into the studio at the back of Brush & Palette, a hush falls over the room, everyone watching us with interest.
Quinn’s eyes almost pop out of her head when she sees me with Dylan and Lola before she breaks into a smug grin. There’s no chance she’s going to let me live this down.
She comes right over to greet us. “Hey there, Ms. Lola. I’m so happy you’re here,” she says in a cheery tone. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Marlow. She’s my nanny,” Lola says proudly.
“I’m glad you brought her along. You want to know a secret?” Quinn leans in closer.
Lola’s eyes shine with curiosity. “What is it?”
“Marlow is my friend too,” Quinn whispers. “She comes by the shop to visit me after she drops you off at school.”
“Does that mean Waffles is your friend too?” Lola asks.
Quinn chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
Since Waffles almost plowed her down while chasing a squirrel, I’ve avoided bringing him to Brush & Palette. However, she spends plenty of time with him whenever she comes to my house. That dog has a talent for making friends, even when his first impression is less than stellar. Take Dylan, for instance. It’s taken over a year, but he’s warming up to Waffles, whether he’ll admit it or not.
“Waffles is my best friend,” Lola announces with gusto.
“He’s one lucky pooch,” Quinn says.
Lola giggles. “You’re silly, Ms. Quinn. Waffles isn’t a pooch. He’s a dog,”
I steal a glance at Dylan, who’s attempting to suppress a chuckle. I’m sure he’ll educate her on the different names for a dog when they get home.
“You’re absolutely right.” Quinn puts her hands on her cheeks and shakes her head. “Why don’t you and your dad show Marlow where your station is and you can start on your rainbow heart suncatcher.”
“Oh, yes, please. Come on, Marlow. This is gonna be so much fun.” Lola grabs my hand, tugging me across the room, Dylan trailing behind us.
Every station has a kid’s apron, Mod Podge, foam paint brushes, a heart-shaped template, white card stock, two pairs of scissors, a pencil, and a selection of colored tissue paper cut into one-inch squares.
When we get to the station with Lola’s name on it, she takes off her jacket and tosses it to Dylan. “Can you hold this, Daddy? I want to make my suncatcher now.”
“Sure, ladybug.” He tucks the coat under his arm. “But you have to get your apron on before you can start. You don’t want to get your rainbow dress dirty, do you?”
“No.”
Dylan grabs the pink apron from the counter and pulls it over Lola’s head, securing it with a bow in the back. I look around to find that every other woman in the room, aside from Quinn, is swooning over him. I don’t blame them, because I am too. There’s something irresistible about a man who can braid his daughter’s hair and takes her to a craft class, especially when he’s the brooding type.
Lola grabs a piece of cardstock, and Dylan helps her fold it in half. He gives her a pencil and patiently guides her hand to trace the outline of a heart. After they’ve finished, Lola picks up a pair of scissors and furrows her brow in concentration as she does her best to cut along the shape of the heart.
“Excuse me?” Someone aggressively taps on my shoulder, and I spin around to see Sarah McCormick and her daughter standing behind me. We’ve never talked before, but I’ve seen her at morning drop-off.
“You’re blocking our station.” She sneers.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I step out of the way, but she doesn’t move.
“I had no idea Quinn allowed guests to come to this class. It’s already at max capacity as it is.” She gives me a once over.
“Oh, I—”
“If you have a problem with Marlow being here, why don’t you take it up with me since I’m the one who invited her,” Dylan says loud enough for everyone to hear.
Oh dear.
Sarah’s jaw drops in disbelief. Dylan is typically reserved in public, and it’s not like him to cause a scene. Hopefully, no one will notice me grinning like an idiot, delighting in the fact that Dylan Stafford just stood up for me at his daughter’s craft class.
