Page 115 of The Manny

“Not really.” Dan pouted. “I just feel like you don’t care that I’m disappointed.”

Dan was acting so childish; I was ready to strangle him. But I didn’t say anything in case that made things worse. Lucia was probably used to rude customers. I’d just let her handle things however she felt was best.

Grimacing, Lucia said, “Oh, it’s not that at all. Of course, we care.”

“Then why won’t you serve me roasted potatoes?” Dan whined.

“Well, you see, roasted potatoes take time, and there’d be no way for us to get them ready for you quickly enough.” She gave me an apologetic glance. “I’m afraid your dining companion’s meal would be ready way before yours. I assume you wanted to eat… together?”

Not really. Not anymore.

More and more I was tempted to ditch my date. Dan was a boor and I wasn’t sure I could take another hour in his company. At first I’d hoped he was just anxious, but it was becoming clear to me Dan was a bit of a clod.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I think you’re out of luck on the potatoes, Dan.”

Dan gave me a sulky glance and didn’t even look at Lucia as he held the menu out to her. “Fine. I’ll take the rice pilaf. But be sure you don’t serve me gravy made from flour, or else.”

I was mortified when a laugh escaped my lips.

Dan glanced at me sharply. “It’s not funny. Eating gluten can make me very ill.”

“I didn’t mean to laugh.” My face warmed. “The ‘or else’ just struck me as funny.”

“There’s nothing funny about spending the night on the toilet,” he grumbled.

You’re a class act, Dan.

I had to hand it to Lucia, her polite smile never slipped. “I’ll make sure the chef understands how important your special instructions are.”

“See that you do.” Dan sighed, grabbing his glass of wine.

I studied him, wondering if there was a polite way to excuse myself. Probably not. It would be too awkward now. I should have made my escape before we’d ordered our food. I was stuck now until we’d finished eating. I couldn’t believe what a dolt Dan was. How was this the same person I’d talked to online? He was like a completely different man. Had I accidentally met up with the wrong guy?

He turned to me suddenly. “So, your profile said you’re a nanny?”

“That’s right.”

“What made you get into that line of work?” He gave a stiff laugh. “Were you just hard up for a job?”

I frowned. “No. I became a manny by choice.”

“Really?” He grimaced.“Why?”

His obvious disapproval took me aback. “I love kids and I feel like what I do is important.”

He laughed. “Seriously?”

Irritation nudged me. “Yeah, Seriously.”

“But, it’s not a very grown-up job, is it?”

I stared at him, half thinking hemustbe kidding. But his expression was dead serious. “I love what I do.”

“That’s so strange to me.” He laughed. “Aren’t you really just a glorified babysitter?”

If I’d had a nickel for every time I’d heard that bullshit line, I’d have had a hell of a lot of nickels. But I did my best not to react angrily. “A babysitter is generally a teenager who takes care of the neighborhood kids for a nominal fee. I make good money. I have an AA in elementary education.”

He lifted his brows in surprise. “Do you?”

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