I lean cross-armed against the wall and watch Robin as he turns back inside the bathroom with the door left open.

He takes off his pointy clown hat, revealing dark, sweaty curls plastered to his head. He sets the hat on the toilet seat and proceeds to remove the make-up. The mirror reflects the image of him using cotton pads to slowly uncover his real face, the person behind the mask. But just one side—before suddenly looking at me in the mirror and giving me a broad smile.

Okay, caught me staring. But it doesn’t bother me. I’m amused. Even now when he is tired, he plays the clown and I find it charming. Half his face is tanned skin covering high cheek bones, with a roman nose over full lips and a glowing emerald for eye. A feline eye but void of danger. His gaze exudes warmth. And humor. And depth of soul. Mesmerizing.

He says to me in the mirror, “You didn’t answer my message.”

“Where?” I blink. It takes me a second to process the memory. “On Facebook? That was you?”

A nod. “You read it but didn’t reply.”

I slap my forehead. “I just saw the first words, then Mira-Me interrupted me.” I nod my chin to the girl on the bed. She’s still texting, but her eyes are heavy with sleep. “I’m sorry I didn’t reply.”

“It’s okay. I thought you were angry with me and I wanted to apologize.”

“You? Apologize?”

A smile. “Yeah, for pulling your leg. I went over the line, too. I should’ve stopped when I saw how upset you were becoming. I should’ve understood and let you go. But it was too tempting, with that fancy limo of yours and all.”

I grimace. “It’s hers. She’s the boss.” Kind of an odd thing for a grown man to say about a young girl. If I wasn’t so thick-skinned and careless about my life, our opposed roles could very well be an embarrassment.

“Figures, from how you two behaved.” He picks up a cotton pad and removes the other side of his face paint, little by little uncovering handsome, manly features.

I can’t say I’m not impressed. My heart thuds in my chest and I don’t want to tear my eyes away from the mirror.

When he’s done, he rubs his face in a towel and sends me a look. “Do you recognize me?”

Copyright @ 2023 Lea Bronsen