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28
DYLAN
I’M RUNNING LATE FOR MY next conference call, and when I join, Harrison and Cash are already online.
“You should have seen Mom at dinner last night. I haven’t seen her this excited since she found out Jack and Presley got together,” Cash informs Harrison.
“Tell me about it,” Harrison grumbles. “She called this morning and lectured me about making him work so much. I may be the CEO, but it’s not like I have any control over you two.” He throws his hands up in the air. “Plus, with the Vanburen project underway, it’s all hands on deck right now.”
My mom has been bugging me nonstop today as well. I’ve explained that Marlow and I are taking things slow, but that word isn’t in her vocabulary.
She does make a good point about me working too much. I’ve already decided that once this project is wrapped up, I’m going to scale back and hire another senior analyst, so I have more time with Lola and Marlow. They’re my top priority, and it’s time that I gave them both the attention they deserve.
Marlow fits right in with my family and I have every intention of having her join us for dinner every week—Waffles too.
“You guys know I’m on the call now, right?” I ask with a raised brow.
“Oh, Dylan, we didn’t see you there,” Cash says, feigning innocence.
“Did you also tell Harrison that Mom asked if you’ve met up with Everly yet?” I question coyly. “If she knew you had a crush on Everly when we were kids, she’d already have a date lined up for you two.”
My mom has always had a soft spot for Everly and was overjoyed whenever she came over to play at our house when we were younger. Without a doubt, she’s held out hope that Everly would someday become a permanent part of our family.
“Shut up,” Cash mumbles with a sheepish grin.
“You’re right, Dylan.” Harrison’s eyes light up with recognition. “Didn’t he get suspended for punching Jacob Barlow in the face when he stood up Everly at senior prom?”
“Yeah,” I exclaim. “And he carried her books to class every day.”
“Will you guys stop?” Cash complains. “Don’t we have business to discuss?”
“You’re the one who started it.” I shrug. “Besides, if things go well with Marlow, eventually Mom’s going to lose interest. And if she finds out about your little crush on Everly, she’s coming for you next,” I warn playfully.
“That’s not going to happen,” he mutters.
I keep my self-satisfied smirk contained.
Yeah, I thought the same thing and now look at me.
It’s late once I’ve finally finished work for the day. I texted Marlow earlier, asking her to get Lola ready for bed, something I’ve never asked her to do when I’m home. In the past, I’ve handled it on my own, as Lola’s bedtime routine is something special that we’ve always shared. However, I quite like the idea of Marlow being a part of it.And not only for tonight.
When I leave my home office, I follow the sound of “I Want to Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston coming from Lola’s room.
“Yes, just like that,” I hear Marlow say.
Lola giggles. “I love being a daisy.”
“You’re a natural,” Marlow declares.
I peek into the room to see them swaying with their hands at their side. Lola has already changed into her unicorn PJs, and her hair is plated into French braids.
She has taken her role as a daisy seriously and has insisted that we practice every night. The only difference is the song choice—she prefers Marlow’s ’80s playlist.
She might not have any lines in the play, but she’s certainly going to be the best daisy on that stage.
Once the song has ended, Marlow pauses the music and tucks her phone into the pocket of the overalls she’s wearing.
“Okay, lolabug, it’s time for you to get into bed.”
