Devin searches my face while I talk on the phone. His concerned expression then turns into a relieved one when I wish Mrs. Smith prompt recovery of her mother in law.

"It was a mild heart attack. She's recovering at home," I say.

"I'm glad to hear that,"

I glance at him after gathering my purse and my keys. He looks truly relieved and it warms my heart.

"You did well Devin. She kept calm while the ambulance was on the way because of you,"

"I didn't know what else to do besides holding her hand and asking her about the 80s," he shrugs.

"It worked. Now Mrs. Smith has a pissed pre-teen at home complaining about how Madonna granny ruined her party,"

"Bullshit! She was having a party of her own sucking a boy's face," he laughs as he sits in the passenger seat of my van.

"Did she? Good for her then. And we got hired again to throw a party at their home. No thrills for her grandma this time. Something low key in their backyard in two weeks. Luckily I keep the Sundays open for smaller events," I say while starting the van.

"What's the theme?"

A snort escapes me. "I'm rubbing on you! I don't even know why I'm training you to plan and style events when you are a natural at this. Mrs. Smith wants a boho chic party,"

"Boho? Like a vagabond? Is that a thing now with kids?"

"That is a hobo!" I laugh at his mix-up. "Boho is a mix of bohemian and hippy styles. Flowy fabrics, flowers, colorful patterns; some people incorporate Native American elements, but I think those deserve a theme of their own. It's laid back. I think we should aim for a stylish picnic or a dance festival setting,"

"Tania, how do you know all these things?"

"I keep up with trends and I learned a lot about styles during my interior design studies. Did you go to college?"

"No, I've worked full-time since I turned 18,"

"So you started young at the film studio then?"

Devin gets tense for a moment, but relaxes as quickly. "Yeah, I started as the assistant of the assistant and worked my way up,"

"Do you think I have seen any of those movies?"

Devin stares at me and his lovely mouth breaks into a crooked smile. "I don't think so," he shakes his head. "It was a bunch of independent movies,"

I think in the few weeks I have known Devin, this is the longest personal conversation we have had. He isn't a shy man, and has a temper for sure, but seems reserved about his life.

The navigation tells me we've arrived at the right address. We enter through the large gate and park in front of the elegant house. A man opens the front door and invites us in after I let him know the reason of our visit. He escort us to a living room and offers us drinks.

"Remember what we discussed this morning and feel free to ask any questions during the meeting," I say to Devin who nods.

A woman with perfect makeup and chic clothes enters the room with a little one on her hip who is fussing, crying and trying to escape. Her distressed look tells me she is a stranger to the kid.

"You must be Tania," she offers me a hand. "Olivia Johnson and this is my youngest son Mason,"

Oh, so that is the mom. Oops!

"Hello Mrs. Johnson, pleasure to meet you. This is Devin Cole, my business partner,"

Devin gives me an appreciation smile and offers a hand to Mrs. Johnson. "Pleasure to meet you as well,"

"I'm so glad you are here," Mrs. Johnson says dramatically while sitting on an armchair. "I tried to do the planning myself but there are so many details. I'm losing my mind and the furthest I got was a guest list,"

The baby stretches his chubby hands to me and I can't help it but to hold him. Devin grabs my notebook and pen as I place the baby on my lap. He stops crying and plays with my necklace. Mrs. Johnson looks at me with curiosity but continues.

"I want a carnival themed birthday for my oldest son. He turns four and I want something fun. Something that will blow the mind of his pre-K classmates. Tons of rides in our yard, like a Ferris wheel and a carrousel. Games with real prizes. We can give away tickets to Disney! Oh yes, I would love that. On the side, I want an array of gourmet snacks. Can you arrange a popcorn bar? Not cotton candy! I don't want them leaving a sticky mess everywhere," she moves her hands enthusiastically as she talks.

"What about clowns?" Devin asks while looking at what he wrote.

"It isn't a circus," Mrs. Johnson looks coldly at him. Devin's shoulders slump.

"It isn't, but it is a valid question," I defend him. "I was about to ask if you needed a magician. Devin and I seem to have the same brain wave," I give him a nod to encourage him.

"Nothing like that. I want a carnival not the side show," she says in an irritated tone.

Devin looks at me briefly but then continues. "How many guests are you expecting?"

From then on he takes control of the meeting while I play with the baby. Devin came to my house early this morning. I gave him a run through of what I ask at a meeting and showed him my planning sheets. He goes through all the logistics and details, and handles Mrs. Johnson and her - at times ridiculous - demands like a pro.

The baby falls asleep on my chest and I enjoy caressing his soft hair. Devin summarizes the party details for Mrs. Johnson and I find it hard to let go of the baby. As I hand him back to her, he opens his eyes and wails. I give her a sheepish smile and quickly say good bye.

"I feel sorry for the kid," Devin says in the privacy of my vehicle.

"Yeah. Did you see that? No click with the mom,"

"He didn't seem to have a problem with you,"

I try to smile, but I fail. 

"Did I say something wrong?" he looks worried.

"No, not at all. It isn't a secret, at least not among my family and a few friends. I can't have kids. My gear has never worked. On the other hand, I'm spared of the misery other women experience monthly,"

"But do you want to be a mom?"

I arrive to a stop light and look at Devin. His question takes me by surprise. When people find out, they always tell me how sorry they are, or that there are treatments. One of my aunties who is a santeria follower even suggested me to get a cleansing job with some weird herbs and candles.

"I would love to, but it's complicated. If I meet a man and he wants kids, that is end of the story. If I meet one who doesn't want kids then I will never be a mom,"

"What about one with a pre-started family?"

"Definitely an option. So if you know a guy, send him my way. You have seen how hard we work. Dating has fallen into the same category as taking a vacation, won't happen anytime soon,"

Devin smiles and gazes out of the window.

"Do you date?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"It's been a long time. My experiences haven't been pleasant,"

His hopeless expression takes me by surprise. Devin Cole is one hot specimen of the male kind and I would expect women to make a line to date him.

"Since we are on schedule and we started early, why don't we go have lunch together? Consider it a fake date to break our sucky streak,"

"I'm in. What do you want to eat? My treat since we are fake dating," he grins.

I enjoy his playful mood. The sun shines bright and the people walking around us wear minimal clothes. Still, I'm craving something that will make me sound mad.

"I want soup," I state.

"Soup on a 90-degree day it is and I know a good place," he gets his phone out of his pocket and starts a search.

"You don't find it odd?"

"Why should I?" he shrugs and presses the screen of the navigation. "I buy ice cream cake in the middle of winter,"

Devin sets the address and we head to our lunch. The place he chose looks like a cottage and is adorable. The porch is filled with potted flowers and homey scents fill my nostrils even before we open the door. Inside is busy with people chatting and enjoying their meals. A man receive us and brings us to a table. The soup menu is extensive, but I have no trouble choosing my favorite.

"Two loaded potato soups please," Devin says to the waiter.

"Don't you want to eat something else?" I ask him when we are left alone.

"Feels like a soup day," he shrugs. "Are all moms as crazy as the last one?"

"Luckily not. I've done a carnival themed party before so we got most of the suppliers already,"

"Did it blow the mind of the guests?" he smirks.

"No, but one of them peed in the ball pit... when it was full of kids. A few got in the splash zone. The party ended quicker than expected,"

Devin stares at me with his mouth open.

"You are joking," he says.

"And it was the birthday boy,"

His laughter is so loud, people turn to look at us. I don't mind. I like watching him like this.