This was the same disguise Nealy had used all those years ago when she’d fled the White House. Maybe it would work for Lucy. If she was lucky, no one would connect the former first daughter with a cheaply dressed pregnant girl walking into a Denny’s. She’d look like one more stupid female who’d fallen for the wrong guy.

Panda gazed at her plastic-bag pregnancy. “Here I am, about to be a father, and the sex wasn’t even that good.”

She fought the urge to apologize.

He only seemed to have two expressions, vacant or scowling. Now it was a scowl. “You don’t even look legal.”

She’d always appeared younger than her age, and her current outfit had to make her look even younger. I’m sure I’m not your first teenager. That’s what Meg would have said to him, but Lucy turned away, dumped her ruined stilettos in a trash bin, and headed cautiously into the restaurant.

To her relief, no one paid any attention to her, not because of her bad clothes or pregnancy bump, but because everyone looked at Panda. He was like Ted in that way. They both had a big presence—Ted’s good, Panda’s not.

She made her way to the restroom, cleaned up as best as she could, and rearranged her pregnancy bump. When she came out, she felt almost human.

Panda stood by the door. He wore the same wrinkled shirt, but he smelled like soap. He studied her bump. “It’s not too realistic.”

“As long as you’re around, I don’t think anybody will pay much attention to me.”

“We’ll see.”

She followed him back to the table. More than a few people in the room were watching as they slid into the booth across from each other. They ordered, and as they waited for their food to arrive, he studied the ball scores scrolling on a TV hanging in the corner.

“While you were in the john, the news said your family’s back in Virginia.”

She wasn’t surprised. Staying in Wynette would have been unbearably awkward for them. “They’re going to Barcelona tomorrow for a conference with the World Health Organization.”

He didn’t look as though he knew what a conference was, let alone the World Health Organization. “When are you calling Ted to tell him you screwed up?”

“I don’t know.”

“Running away’s not going to solve whatever problems a rich girl like you thinks you have.” His slight sneer said he didn’t believe anybody like her could have real problems.

“I’m not running,” she retorted. “I’m … on vacation.”

“Wrong. I’m on vacation.”

“And I’ve offered to pay you a thousand dollars plus expenses to take me with you.”