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“No, you’re not,” I say. “And again, I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
She nods and reaches for her drink, lifting it my way. “I’ll drink to that.”
I lift my glass, clinking it to hers. “Forgiven?”
“Forgiven,” she says. “So what kept you? Is Sarah Beth okay?”
With a sigh, I relay the Tragedy of Being Forced to Eat Lasagna. By the time I finish, she’s laughing so hard I can’t help but find it funny, too. “And then my mom kept me on the phone, and I slid off the road on a patch of ice and it was just a cursed start to the evening.”
Her eyes go wide with concern as she grabs my hand under the table. “Are you okay? Is the car okay?”
“We’re both fine,” I say, my fingers closing around hers, holding her hand the best thing that’s happened to me all day. “An old buddy from high school drove by and helped me push it out,” I assure her. “I truly was giving being on time my best shot, but it didn’t work out.”
“I’m just glad you weren’t hurt,” Tatum says, detangling her hand from mine. She clears her throat as she adds in a brighter tone, “I’m not used to driving on icy roads, so I take it very slow around here. One guy honked at me on the way to the park the other day, but people are mostly very nice about the woman driving at granny speed. I figure it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“On the whole, people are great here,” Ashley confirms from the other side of the table with a yawn. “But we fade out early. We’re all farmers’ kids who grew up getting up at the ass crack of dawn and going to bed right after sunset and we never quite break the habit. I’m heading for home. See you all tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Tatum.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” Tatum says, pushing her chair back and reaching into her purse. “I should go, too. My boss has a zero-tardiness policy.”
The grin she shoots my way can’t banish the disappointment filling my chest. “Your boss will understand if you want to have one more drink and play a couple more rounds of poker. You’re on a winning streak,” I say, nodding toward her pile of quarters. Seems a shame to quit now.”
Her smile only falters for a second, but it’s enough to make me suspect my “zero tardiness” policy isn’t the reason she’s leaving. “Thanks, but I should go. I could use some time alone to read my book and just…focus.” She pulls out a twenty-dollar bill. “Is this enough to cover my part? I’m not sure how to split the margarita costs.”
I cover her hand, guiding it back to her purse. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on me. Consider it a bonus for a great first week.”
She laughs. “It’s only been three days, but I’ll take it. Thanks, Drew.” She stands, waving at those of us left at the table. “Bye everyone. Drive safe and so nice to meet you!”
A chorus of “goodbyes” rise from our table as she moves toward the side exit.
I watch her go for a moment, my stomach in knots, before reaching for my wallet. “I’d like to pay for everyone if that’s okay. My apology for being so late to the party.”
“Yeah, I think that would be just fine,” Coleen says, with a laugh.
“You’re a hero among men,” Rick says, motioning to the waitress. “We’ll have the check. But add another pitcher to it before you bring it over, please. I need to win back all the quarters I just lost.”
Now that Tatum’s gone, I really don’t want to linger any longer, but I can’t excuse myself without making it obvious I was here to indulge my entirely inappropriate crush on my nanny, so…I stay.
I stay and I lose every quarter in my pile to Coleen. But Rick loses his, as well, and it’s nice to spend time with the two of them. Coleen has been with the company since not long after I was born and Rick’s a great guy. He’s one of my role models, actually. He has a great relationship with his wife, raised two great girls who just started college and high school, and finds time to be an incredible attorney, a good friend, and an obsessed dog dad at the same time.
As we head for the door, pulling on coats, I ask him, “How are the girls? Is Alyssa enjoying her freshman year?”
He sighs, but smiles as he says, “She’s having a blast, but Dad is having a harder time. Every time we go out for breakfast, I ask for a table for four. I just can’t wrap my head around the fact that she’s five hours away. I still visit her every other Saturday. I worry I’m cramping her style, but she says she likes our early suppers, and I can’t stand not seeing my baby girl for months on end.”
