Page 28 of DadBod

Plopping down onto a bench to wait for our train, I tell her what he wanted to talk to me about. “Do not tell anyone at the restaurant.”

Holding up her three fingers pressed together, she swears, “No way. Not a word.” A smile slides over her lips.

I believe her. That’s why I told her as close to verbatim as I could what Rome said in his office.

“God. I can’t wait. This is gonna be good.”

“What is?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. You as dadbod’s nanny.” She squeals. “That’s fucking hot.”

I roll my eyes, but inside, I agree. It would be hot if there was any chance in hell he’d see me like that. He doesn’t, though.