Page 35 of The Single Dad

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“You should be flattered.” I pass a now-clean plate over to him, and he tucks it into the dishwasher.

“Why?” He huffs a humorless laugh. “I didn’t even notice them.”

I turn my attention back into the sink to hide my smile. That gives me a little bit of satisfaction—though I can’t quite admit why.

I run the sink to clear the rest of the suds down into the drain, and Mr. Sullivan closes up the dishwasher. As we disperse from our positions, we move in opposite directions, nearly running into each other.

For a moment that seems to last hours, we’re inches apart. His hand, braced on the granite island, is practically on top of mine. I’m close enough to see the pupils dilate in his deep, blue eyes.

Then the spell breaks, and he clears his throat, stepping back. I move to the side to let him pass, which he does without a word.

He heads into the living room, and I go to the counter to wrap up the leftovers, as if nothing happened. But my cheeks are still burning from the tension.

I spend the rest of the evening in some kind of haze. Mr. Sullivan hangs out with Archie a little, playing with him in the living room. Of course, it makes sense—he isn’t usually around this early, and he wants to take the chance to spend time with his kid. But I also think that he’s trying to avoid me, if he can help it.

Eventually, I come in to take Archie up to bed. He’s tired after his big day and settles in easily, but after the slight tension with Mr. Sullivan, I would rather not go downstairs and face the awkwardness. I go straight to my room and flop onto the bed.

Rolling over, I pull out my phone to text Olivia.

Since I started this job, I’ve been keeping my best friend updated on the situation here. Mostly, when we talk about it, I feel like she’s almost living vicariously through me—her situation at her own job is annoying enough that she’ll take what she can get.

But that means that Olivia knows everything about the tension between me and Mr. Sullivan. Which means that Olivia is the perfect person to vent to.

ME: God, things are so weird here tonight…

OLIVIA: Weird how?

ME: I bumped into him in the kitchen.

OLIVIA: Omg!

OLIVIA: In a good way, or…?

Sighing, I lower the phone and lean back against the pillows. Olivia has been like this from the moment I told her about walking in on Mr. Sullivan jerking off. She actively wants us to get together, and every time she insists on it, I have to remind her what a terrible idea that is.

ME: There is no good way

OLIVIA: What are you talking about??? There’s a hot way!