Ricardo waited for the woman to start oohing and aahing. Instead, she gave him a bland smile and glanced down at her phone.
Ricardo blinked, deflating at the brush-off. He cast his gaze around—a habit that made him look guilty—and found no one. No one watching, that is. People hurried on, some lugging suitcases, some lugging children. Many went by empty-handed. No one gave him more than a passing glance. Past experience taught him public venues were both a blessing and a curse. For one, he was an anonymous body in an anonymous crowd. On the other hand, if he were recognized, it would be hours before he could extricate himself from their clutches. But damned if he didn’t want this woman to recognize him. Not a smart thing by an inch, not even by a mile. It only took one cry of recognition
