Excerpt of Unlikely Allies by C.C. Koen

“Cece, Cece, where are you?”

They both turned toward the door.

An adult version of the pint-sized girl appeared in the
doorway. This variation, though, had hair on the cherry
side of auburn with twists of milk chocolate streaming
through the strands. A messy ponytail slung high on top
of her head, and thick, curly waves fell over her
shoulder, instead of bright, reddish-orange pigtails like
Cece’s.

“Cece, come here.” The woman’s stern tone communicated
there better not be any arguments. Cece marched across
the room. “My daughter shouldn’t have run off. I’m sorry
if she disturbed you.”

A company logo and name written in gold script in a
circular pattern above her left breast caught his
attention: Westlake Security Services. His best friend,
Matt, owned the firm adjacent to his office. She’d have
to pass his suite to get there, yet he’d never seen her
before. He inspected her uniform, a gray polo shirt and
black slacks. An outfit he’d seen many times before, but
it never looked that good on anyone else. The fabric,
tucked in at her waist, had a cut that hugged her
handful-sized breasts, and slim pants accentuated her
curvy hips.

He lifted his gaze and found the woman ushering Cece out
the door. “Wait.”

Cece turned, beaming a huge smile at him. “I would a told
ya bye.” And just as fast, her little face morphed from
happy to perturbed, aimed at her mother, and with her
arms crossed, Cece shook her head.

Without missing a beat, and as smooth as his mother would
have, the woman redirected Cece. “Say good night to Mr.…”

“Stone, Rick Stone.”

She set a hand on Cece’s shoulder, nudging her and
casting a do-what-your-mother-says stare. “I have to get
back to work. Say goodbye to Mr. Stone.”

“What’s your name?” He couldn’t let her get away that
fast.

“Maggie.”

“Margareta Cassidy Tyson,” Cece shouted with emphasis, a
pause between each distinction. “My mama works here.” She
pointed toward the hall. “She plays on a phone and
'puter. It got lotsa buttons.” She shook her head,
pigtails flinging back and forth over one shoulder then
the other, followed by an overdrawn sigh. “She don’t let
me push 'em. Don’t ya think I should get to push 'em? He
let me push his.” Cece looked up at her mother and shot
her arm toward him, her shrugging shoulders
communicating, “See, everybody can do it. No big deal.”

Rick chuckled and then stopped when Maggie spun around,
hands set on her hips. He rubbed his palm along the back
of his neck and shifted from one foot to the other as an
uncomfortable silence engulfed the room. “Let me
explain.”