Found the perfect one. Coming tomorrow at four. You’re going to love this. Exactly your type. 😉
His reply was instant:
Can’t wait 😏 Only the best for our family.
Friday he came home an hour early, something that hadn’t happened since the twins were born. Walked in wearing the cologne he saves for date nights, hair actually styled, deep-blue shirt that makes his eyes look bluer, jeans that fit. He was trying, hard.
I folded laundry in the living room and pretended not to notice.
The doorbell rang right on time.
I opened it with the calmest smile I’d worn in years.
There stood Wallace: tall, athletic, easy grin, pressed polo, neat folder of references in one hand.
“Hi!” he said, reaching past me to offer Damon a handshake. “You must be Mr. Daniels. I’m Wallace, the new babysitter.”
Damon’s smile froze, then shattered.
He looked at Wallace, looked at me, looked back at Wallace like his brain had short-circuited.
