The Single Dad Who Helped His Boss Fix Her Dating Profile Never Expected Her Simple Question—“Why Don’t You Go Out With Me?”—to Rewrite Both Their Lives

Ethan Parker had learned how to live quietly.

Not because he wanted to—but because life had trained him that way.

At thirty-six, he was a single father with a seven-year-old daughter named Mia, a modest apartment that always smelled faintly of laundry detergent and peanut butter, and a carefully balanced routine that left little room for surprises. Wake up early. Make breakfast. Walk Mia to school. Work hard. Pick her up. Cook dinner. Read bedtime stories. Repeat.

Love, once, had been loud and hopeful.
Now, it was practical.

Ethan worked as a project coordinator at Lennox Marketing, a mid-sized firm downtown. The job paid the bills and offered stability—something he valued far more than excitement. His boss, Claire Whitmore, was known throughout the office as sharp, composed, and intimidatingly competent.

She was also single.

Not that Ethan spent time thinking about that.

Claire was ten years his senior, always impeccably dressed, and carried herself with a confidence that made meetings feel like performances. She rarely spoke about her personal life, and when she did, it was with dry humor and emotional distance.

That was why Ethan was surprised when she stopped by his desk late one Friday afternoon.

“Ethan,” she said, tapping lightly on the partition. “Do you have a minute?”

He glanced at the clock. “Sure.”

She hesitated—something he had never seen her do before.

“This is… not work-related,” she added.

That got his attention.

They ended up in the small break room, the office nearly empty.

Claire placed her phone on the table, face down. “I need a favor,” she said.

Ethan nodded cautiously. “Okay.”

She exhaled. “You’re good with words. You’re thoughtful. And you once rewrote an entire client pitch overnight that saved a contract.”

“That was teamwork,” he said.

“Yes, but you led it,” she replied. Then, almost abruptly, she flipped her phone over. “I joined a dating app.”

Ethan blinked. “Oh.”

“And my profile is terrible,” she said flatly.

He wasn’t sure what expression to make. “I’m… sorry?”

She shot him a look. “Don’t be. Just help me fix it.”

Ethan leaned back slightly. “You want me to help you with your dating profile.”

“Yes.”

“Your dating profile,” he repeated.

“Yes, Ethan.”

There was a long pause.

“I don’t think HR would love this conversation,” he said carefully.

Claire smiled faintly. “We’re off the clock. And I trust you.”

That word—trust—landed heavier than expected.

Against his better judgment, Ethan agreed.

They sat side by side, scrolling.

Claire’s profile was polished but distant. Professional photos. Generic interests. Nothing that felt human.

“This reads like a résumé,” Ethan said gently.

“I’m accomplished,” she replied.

“I know. But people want warmth.”

She studied him. “You sound experienced.”

He shrugged. “I used to be married.”

She glanced at him. “Used to?”

“Widowed,” he said simply.

Her expression softened immediately. “I’m sorry.”

“It was years ago,” he replied. “But it changes how you see things.”

They rewrote the profile together. Softer language. Real laughter. A mention of her love for old movies and bad karaoke—things she hadn’t realized she was allowed to include.

When they finished, Claire looked at the screen thoughtfully.

“This actually sounds like me,” she said.

“That’s the idea.”

She smiled, then looked up at him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“Why don’t you go out with me?” she asked suddenly.

Ethan froze.

“I—what?”

She tilted her head. “You know me. You clearly see me. And you’re single.”

He laughed nervously. “You’re my boss.”

“And you’re an adult,” she said calmly. “So am I.”

“That’s… complicated.”

“So is dating strangers,” she replied.

Silence stretched between them.

Ethan thought of Mia. Of stability. Of lines he had drawn for survival.

“I’m not ready,” he said quietly.

Claire nodded. “That’s a valid answer.”

He exhaled in relief.

But something lingered.

They didn’t talk about it again.

At least, not directly.

But things shifted.

Claire became warmer. Less guarded. Ethan noticed how she listened—really listened—when he talked about Mia. She remembered small details. Asked thoughtful questions.

One evening, when a snowstorm shut down the city, they were the last two in the office again.

“Dinner?” Claire asked casually. “Purely platonic.”

Ethan hesitated—then nodded.

They talked for hours. About grief. About loneliness. About how success often hides emptiness.

Weeks turned into months.

Dinner became coffee. Coffee became walks. Walks became something neither of them named.

Until one night, as they stood outside Ethan’s apartment, Claire said softly, “I don’t want to be a secret.”

Ethan met her gaze. “Neither do I.”

They disclosed the relationship professionally. Set boundaries. Took it slow.

When Ethan finally introduced Claire to Mia, it was with cautious hope.

Mia looked at Claire seriously. “Are you staying?”

Claire knelt. “If your dad wants me to.”