Page 58 of A Whole New Play

You’re the best dad.

Belatedly, I wonder if my response is appropriate, but it’s too late now.

Thanks. That means a lot. How are you enjoying the suite?

It’s great. So fancy.

You’ll have to experience it again when the twins aren’t demanding your attention.

How does he know that? I pause reading his message and look over at his family. Carlee is on her phone. Did he text her to ask about the twins after I hung up on him?

Maybe you can convince Megan to come into town for a game.

I read the second part of Carter’s message twice.

Is he saying he’d purchase the suite again… for me?

I shake my head at the screen.

That’s too much.

I don’t even know how much a suite costs, exactly, but I know it’s far too expensive for him to offer it to me.

But rather than say that, I change the subject.

How are you texting me right now? Shouldn’t you be busy planning how to sack the quarterback in the second half?

I’m never too busy to text you.

A thrill rushes through me, followed swiftly by frustration.

Carter isn’t flirting with me. He hasn’t flirted with me since the accident. His message is, no doubt, referring to texting me at any time because I look after his son and daughter. It isn’t meant as a declaration that I matter to him or anything…

I’m foolish to think so for even a moment.

Not knowing what to reply, I send a thumbs-up emoji like an idiot.

Before I let myself get roped back into the conversation, I put my phone back down and focus my attention on the twins.

We finish the game of Go Fish. Abby wins, much to Andy’s annoyance, but the little boy agrees to play again despite his disappointment.

I try, I really do, but the entire time I’m playing with the twins, I can’t get the text exchange with Carter out of my head.

I can’t keep doing this to myself.

I can’t keep allowing any innocuous comment to send butterflies fluttering in my stomach or a glance to cause hope to swell in my chest.

Even if we hadn’t recently agreed not to allow anything romantic to happen between us again—even if Carter wasn’t my boss—he and I still wouldn’t be a match.

He’s a dad.

I’m twenty-three years old and having a quarter-life crisis.

Our life circumstances mean we aren’t well suited.

Carter values me as his kids’ nanny more than a woman to sleep with. Which is honorable. And it should make me happy.

But it doesn’t.

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