When Abby returns with our dishes, she has a whole plate of little sauces. “Hazel, I wasn’t sure which dip you might like, so I brought you one of everything. We have the all-time champion ketchup, a very tasty barbecue, a lovely honey mustard, and my favorite, the chicken-fried steak gravy, which is delish. Try whatever suits your fancy, and feel free to ignore anything you don’t like.”
With a dead serious expression on her face, my daughter licks her lips and nods. “Thank you so much.”
When Abby heads off to help another table, I turn away before I can check her out again and tuck a napkin into the neckline of Hazel’s t-shirt. “You’re doing so well saying please and thank you. Nice job, kiddo.”
She’s busy inspecting her sauces. “Can I stick my finga in these?”
I shrug. “You mean to taste them? Why not? Wait. Let’s clean your hands first.”
Dutifully, she holds them out while I whip out some wipes from her bag. Then she goes to town, determining that she also loves the gravy.
By the time Abby circles back to us, my daughter has gobbled down most of her food. “The sauces were a hit. Thanks for giving her so many options.”
She slides that piece of pie in front of me. “It was nothing.”
Shit. We’re almost done here, and I still haven’t brought up my proposition. “Can I ask you something? It’s kind of a big favor.”
Abby nibbles the corner of her enticing lip. “Sure. What’s up?”
I slide out of my booth because I don’t wanna disappoint Hazel if Abby says no. I motion a few feet away, and Abby follows me. “I had a situation yesterday. My nanny didn’t show up, and I had to bring Hazel to the stadium with me.”
She tilts her head. “That’s why you were off yesterday.”
I nod. “I was a fucking mess.”
Her eyes go soft. “It wasn’t so bad. You had a great recovery when Bowser messed up that snap. And you can’t really take all the blame because your O-line wasn’t having a great day either. You still got the W. That’s all that matters. Next game will be better.”
Instantly, my shoulders feel lighter, and I can take a deep breath. “Thanks. That means a lot. So… I guess that means you watched another game?”
She looks down with a smile. “Maybe.”
“Truly, I appreciate the support. But do you want to know what I really need?”
“What’s that?” Her big blue eyes tilt up.
“A great nanny. Preferably someone who cares about my daughter’s fifteen hundred dipping sauces and comes prepared with crayons.”
She nibbles the corner of her mouth again. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? You’re obviously great with kids. You’re super responsible. I can tell from how you hold this place together. And you’re getting a degree in early childhood education. Frankly, you’re overqualified, and I’m a total asshole for not hiring you over the summer.”
That color returns to her cheeks. “I did take off your bumper while you were in the middle of your”—her hands flail again—“date.”
I cover my mouth to cough, mildly embarrassed she remembers that Larissa was in my lap that night. “Yes, well. I did park at a weird angle, as I recall from the police report.”
“Order up!” a guy behind the counter yells.
She points behind her. “I have to get that.”
I gently grab her arm. “Are you still on the fence about babysitting?”
“I just…” She closes her eyes. “I had a really bad experience with Ezra, which turned me off of football and everything associated with it. I know you’re a nice guy, Nick. You seem like a decent human being, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m setting myself up somehow. Plus, I’d have to work out my schedule here. I can’t just leave Moe. He’s been good to me even though the tips suck.”
I frown. I’m not a fan of being compared to Ezra. “What can I do to make you feel safe? What can I do to prove I just want someone responsible and kind to watch Hazel? I have no ulterior motives. I swear things between us will stay strictly professional at all times. And we can absolutely work with your schedule.”
She stares at me a long moment. Long enough for me to notice that the outer rims of her eyes are a light gray. “You promise not to screw me over somehow?”
I hold my hand over my heart. “I swear on football.”
