Paul sauntered onto the court, where Danial was crouched down, measuring his latest throw’s distance from the cochonnet. “Did she tell you about the speed dating event?”

“No.” He looked up, grinning. “Please, go on.”

“Can we not?” She sighed, unable to hide her own smile. The prospect of her dating history becoming a funny memory rather than a trauma was too delightful not to indulge. And besides, it was Paul’s day—anything he wanted to talk about was fair game.

“Well, I won’t spoil my next stand-up special completely, but I can share that one of the men was named Wayne Paine, and he ran a used Lexus dealership. His third question was what kind of porn Alex preferred to watch.”

“Okay,” she countered, “in Wayne’s defense—”

“We’re defending him?” Danial cut in, eyebrow raised.

“The prompt for our speed date was to show our spicy side.”

“Your mother paid for you to do this?” The disbelieving laughter carried on his voice as he stood up, brushing the dust from his pants.

“My mother just wanted me to find happiness,” Alex explained, a surprising note of sincerity in her words.

He said nothing, but she could sense Danial’s quiet approval at her response. They looked at each other across the court, hanging in the ambient sincerity like the final note of a song.

Paul cleared his throat, walking over to grab his velvet bag. “I’m calling it. Alex won—you’re not coming back from five points behind. My turn.”

Danial cocked his head, face forming into the beginning of a protest. But in total diplomacy, he corrected his expression to one of resignation, shrugging his shoulders and walking toward the bench to take his seat.

“Sorry,” Alex chided, crossing him on her way to his position. “You lose again, unfortunately.”

“I let you win.” Danial said, meeting her eyes for a devastatingly handsome smile.

“We both know that’s not true.”

The breeze picked up slightly, and in it a few of the pink flowers brushed along the court, moving like little skirted dancers. She had forced herself to forget how well the three of them fit together for so long, how much she missed their dynamic, that the joy of its return was almost more than her heart could manage.

“Do you have a Shirley Temple?” Alex asked, looking up from the menu.

“I do not—” the waiter started, looking rather confused. “What is this?”

“Do you have grenadine?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the setting sun with a cupped hand.

“Yes, miss.”

“I’ll take a grenadine and sparkling water, please.”

“Two of those,” Danial added with a smile.