Lauren’s guffaw came out like a honk. Piper just stared like Lauren had three heads. Lauren slunk off, her face blazing. They all would talk about this later, how Piper had the tendency to make you slink away.

“Oh, Lane!” Piper said loudly, turning to the next parent who’d arrived. Lane Wilder looked like the human version of a Labrador retriever. “Thanks for stopping by!”

Lane smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Yeah, thanks. I put Patricia on the kids.” He was the kindergarten teacher downstairs. This was his first foray to the loft as a parent, and his girlfriend, Ronnie Stuckey, beamed at him with pride.

But Piper’s smile flattened when she noticed Ronnie. Ronnie was taller than Piper, and thinner, and her face had perfect golden-ratio proportions. This made other women jealous, even women like Piper.

“Hi, I’m Ronnie!” Ronnie said brightly. Her accent was from . . . somewhere. Not Raisin Beach, that was for sure. “My daughter, Esme, she’s in the fours? Lane and I are—”

“Partners.” Lane reached for Ronnie’s hand. “Piper, I’m so excited you’re going to finally meet Esme’s brave, wonderful mom.”

Piper’s gaze swept up Ronnie’s body. While other mothers were going for the natural look this morning, Ronnie unapologetically had a smoky eye and glossy lips, and her face looked airbrushed. Piper also seemed utterly confounded by Ronnie’s bag, which looked like an old-style western jacket with its long leather tassels and grommets and was emblazoned with a large G for Gucci. A trained eye might say it was a fake.

A pink tinge crept up Ronnie’s neck. “I hope it’s okay Esme is enrolled. Lane and I aren’t married, I mean. But I saw on your website that partners’ children can enjoy the staff benefits, and we filled out the application and were accepted—”

“Of course it’s fine,” Piper interrupted. “Our inclusion policy extends to all sorts of families. Parenthood doesn’t fit into just one box.”

“Oh.” Ronnie looked relieved. “Okay, good.”

“I like your earrings.” Piper’s assistant poked his head around Piper’s frame. He pointed at the jagged metal sculptures that hung so low from Ronnie’s earlobes that they nearly grazed her shoulders.

Ronnie grinned, touching her left lobe. “Thanks!” But as she walked away, her smile faded. “Did I do something wrong?” she whispered to her boyfriend. “That seemed weird.”

“What? No!” Lane patted her hand. “Piper can be brisk sometimes, but seriously, she’s great. You’re going to love her.”

Lauren, meanwhile, was still loitering by the coffee, listening to a pack of mothers nearby talking about how their ten-month-olds were talking in full sentences. Another mother in the group said she’d brought her toddler daughter to volunteer at the local food bank with her. “It’s really enriching her spirit.” A toddler volunteering?