Page 46 of The Single Dad

“Sowwy,” he sputters through a full mouth, causing us both to laugh.

“And don’t talk with your mouth full,” she says, even though she’s grinning in obvious amusement.

“You sure have a way with kids,” I say, unable to keep my gaze off the two of them as they interact.

“You have a way of making me feel like I’m still being interviewed,” she retorts. Suddenly, I’m aware of how stiff I’ve been holding my body, the inquisitive scowl affixed to my face. I wasn’t doing these things on purpose, but they were clearly making her uncomfortable, at least a little.

And that’s not what I want. That feeling at the petting zoo, the lighter-than-air sensation that made it impossible to stop smiling—I want to hold onto that for as long as I can.

Maybe it can’t be forever. But as I look at Riley, her soft brown eyes gentle and teasing, I think to myself, It can definitely last for today.

I sit up comically straight and fold my hands in front of me on the table, leaning into my interview persona.

“So, what makes you think you’re qualified for this position?” I ask in an overly-serious tone.

“Which position?” she replies.

“This position,” I repeat, gesturing with my eyes to indicate that she should just go with it. “Why are you the best fit for this position?”

With break-neck speed she replies, “I’m just looking for the position where it will best fit.”

I almost spit out my water, shocked, and turn to look at Archie. He has continued eating, happily unaware of the inappropriate joke his nanny just spun.

She looks at Archie too, making sure that her joke sailed gracefully over his head. Then, when she’s sure that she stuck the landing, she laughs. I laugh too, and this time, all the tension genuinely drains from my body.

As we finish eating, I notice that my shoulders are relaxed. Archie is quiet now that there’s food in front of him, and the conversation between me and Riley flows easily from my college days to her years as a waitress.

She tells me about the job, pointing out different parts of the restaurant, which is apparently similar to the one she used to work at.

“Over there,” she says, nodding as a waitress disappears behind a section of wall, “that’s where the real magic happens. They probably put that wall there so that you can’t hear the servers yelling ‘corner’ when they head back.”

“Corner?” I repeat, mystified. “Why ‘corner’?”

“People are bustling around back there with plates full of hot food,” she explains. “So you have to shout to let them know you’re coming, or something might break.”

“Sounds stressful.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Says the investment banker. At least I never had millions of dollars of other people’s money in my hands.”

“Money isn’t hot,” I say, grinning. “And it’s not made of breakable ceramic, either.”

That gets a laugh out of her—exactly what I was hoping for.

Once we’re all done and waiting for the check, Riley slides out from the booth.

“Excuse me,” she says as she gets up, “I have to use the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”

As she turns away, I can see a slight flush in her cheeks and wonder if my emotions are as obvious as hers—if she can read my face as easily.

Chapter 15

Riley

I look my reflection in the eye as I wash my hands, startled by how happy the girl in the mirror looks. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes bright. She smiles easily, unable to control her happiness. It’s been a good day.

I wipe my hands on a paper towel and leave the bathroom, eager to get back to the table and continue my conversation with Cole.

Before I make it back, I pause beside the jukebox to play a song or two. I can’t resist; this place has a real charm to it, and I want to make Cole and Archie guess what song I chose. Maybe I could even learn a little bit more about Cole—something about his taste in music, maybe.

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