The kid is snuggled up under my arm, even though she’s buckled in and the strap is digging into her shoulder. I wasn’t planningon becoming a babysitter, so I don’t have the necessary booster seat—and I’m realizing, as I adjust the seatbelt for her, that I’mgoing to have to make a shopping list for my staff.
That same list now scrolling through my head has me wondering how the hell I became an instant-father.
None of this was part of the plan.
I don’t show any panic, though. I’ve trained myself over the years how to not give away any tells that my heart is pounding inmy chest and my lungs are constricting.
Rule number one of any card game: never reveal your hand.
Clara must not know the rules. She’s sitting in her seat, gazing out the tinted window, and doing nothing
