The café lights shimmered against the evening sky as Adrian Shaw sat alone by the window, checking his watch for the third time. At thirty-four, he had learned to read the signs: when the chair across from you stays empty long enough, the night is already telling its story.
His business partner had arranged the meeting, insisting that Adrian’s life needed more than profits and late-night emails. “She’s kind,” his partner had said, “the sort of woman who’ll remind you what matters.” Yet twenty minutes had passed, and all Adrian had met was silence and self-doubt.Just as he reached for the check, a small figure appeared — a little girl in a pink dress, blonde curls tied with a matching ribbon, walking with the confidence of someone who already knows her purpose.
“Excuse me,” she said, standing beside his table, “are you Mr. Adrian?”
Startled, he nodded.
“I’m Lily,” she said earnestly. “My mommy told me to tell you she’s sorry she’s late. She’s parking the car. She said please don’t leave.”
Adrian’s irritation melted into a quiet smile. “She sent you in alone?”
“She showed me your picture,” Lily said, proud of her success. “She said you’d be sitting by the window with a candle, and you are!”
He gestured toward the chair. “Then mission accomplished. Would you like to sit while we wait?”
Lily climbed up, hands folded neatly on the table. “Mommy says not to talk to strangers. But she said you’re not a stranger, you’re her friend.”
Adrian chuckled. “Your mommy’s very wise.”
“Are you going to marry my mommy?”
“Mrs. Henderson says Mommy needs a husband,” Lily continued matter-of-factly. “Do you like kids?”
Before he could answer, a breathless woman arrived — late twenties, radiant even through embarrassment, with the same golden hair. “Lily! I told you to wait by the door!” she exclaimed. Turning to Adrian: “I’m Isabel. I’m so sorry — parking was impossible, and Lily, well, she’s very independent.”