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“Um. Yes, wedo.”
He tilts his head toward Sophie. “Given the circumstances, I don’t think it’s good for your state of mind to be away from her for hours at atime.”
Another worry I hadn’t let myself face, solved before I could fully come to grips with it. The tightness in my chest that’s been underlying my good feelings eases. But it doesn’t disappear entirely.
“I still have to work off my car repairs.”
“Vic’s office is a mess. He never has time to clean it up. You know how to do filing, shit likethat?”
I wince. He glances at Sophie, who doesn’t seem to have noticed, but we both know that kids are sponges for what’s said in their hearing. “Anyway,” he promptsme.
“Sure. I took some basic business classes at the community college.”
“I’ll take you in with me, and we’ll put her playpen in the office with you. You work mornings, and then at lunchtime I’ll drop you off with Izzy or one of the nonnas. It’ll take you a few days longer to work off your bill, but you won’t have to worry about her while you’re doingit.”
It’s such a good plan, and I’m so relieved he’s not trying to talk me out of working off my debt, that I give him a big smile. His eyes get warm; I squirm on my seat, and they get warmer.
My face is getting hot, so I concentrate on my food. But every time I look up, Dante’s watching me, and every time our eyes meet it’s another shock to my system. I’m not going to flirt with him in front of my daughter, so I do my best to ignorehim.
But I can’t stop looking.
The best way to put a stop to this infatuation — because that’s all it is, getting worked up over someone I don’t even know — is information. The more I know about Dante, the faster I’ll stop looking at him with rose-tinted glasses.
Head down over my plate, cutting my waffle with my knife and fork, I ask, “Do you have anykids?”
