Page 28 of DadBod
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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.
