Page 232 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“Here’s your room,” the woman said, opening a door. “Silas Scott and his entourage are on the other side of the building. There’s a phone on the table. Let us know if you need anything.”
He thanked the event staffer, and they entered the swanky room. Sebastian set the stool on the ground, then ran to the table where several pairs of trunks were fanned out across the top.
“Why so many colors for your boxing shorts?” the lad asked, running his fingertips across the collection of trunks.
“I decide which color I want to wear the day of the weigh-in.”
From reds to golds to blues and black, the trunks shimmered under the lights. He took in the array of hues, then turned to his son. “Why don’t you pick.”
“Me?” he whispered, awestruck.
“Yeah, have a go.”
Sebastian zeroed in on a pair. “That’s easy! The bluish-purple indigo trunks. You can match the rock stack. Then you know you’re on the right path to victory.”
Victory.
The word floated in the air, triggering Aug’s question.
What are you fighting for?
He chewed on the question, running on autopilot as he changed his clothes, slipping on the indigo trunks. He’d never worn this color before. He’d stuck to bold reds, but that didn’t suit him now. Checking his appearance in the mirror, he stared at his reflection.
Who was the British Beast?
Who was the Lion?
A sharp knock on the door pulled him from the questions swirling around in his head. “It’s time,” Aug called.
“Will Mibby be here? She’s one of your trainers, too. I hope she didn’t get lost,” Sebastian said, worry creasing his brow.
Mibby.
He should have been ready for this question.
“She’s not coming, lad, not for the weigh-in.”
He could see the wheels turning in his son’s head.
“Did you make her mad? Did you act like a…” Sebastian asked, then tapped his foot two times.
“Is that Phoebe’s foot tap trick?”
“Yeah, but when Phoebe taps twice, it meansbutthole,” the boy explained, whispering the naughty word. “But when I tapped, I meantbeefcake.”
“You know about Libby calling me beefcake?”
“Phoebe showed me a training video where Libby was throwing mini-torpedoes at you. And then the astronauts did the same training.”
Viral bloody videos.
But he couldn’t deny that the kid had boiled it down to its very essence. “Yeah, I was a pretty big…” He tapped his foot twice. “And I hurt her feelings.”
He braced himself, waiting for the boy to cry or yell, but he didn’t. He nodded, taking on Granny Finola’s sage quality. “Don’t worry, Dad,” Sebastian replied as a smile spread across his lips. “I made an intention and put my energy into keeping Mibby and the donkeys with us.”
“It might not be that easy to do,” he bit out, hating having to even utter the words.
“I’m already one for one on my first intention,” the boy proclaimed, puffing up.
