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That was ironic. “No? Here I thought I had a great poker face.”
She made a raspberry sound with her lips. “Please. You look at her like this.” She grabbed her chest, tilted her head, and batted her eyelashes with a huge sigh.
That made me laugh. “I have never once in my entire life looked like that. You’re insane.”
“Okay, maybe not. But it’s like so obvious that you were happy when she was around and now you’re Sad Dad.”
“I can’t argue with that.” We turned the corner onto our street. “Pop, what do you think?”
“I think my love potion worked.” She looked up at me smugly.
It took me a second to process what she was saying. “What? Love potion? What are you talking about?”
“I made a love potion so you and Dakota would get together.”
Oh my God. The crap she kept trying to get me to sniff. “That stuff that smelled like licorice?”
“Yep. I found the formula online.”
Mary, the old nanny, had been right. The kid was dabbling in magic. Which was both disturbing and incredibly sweet. Hell, I was proud of her intelligence and her willingness to take matters into her own hands.
I ruffled her hair. “I appreciate you wanting to make me happy. But you can’t force people together with spells. They need to be together because they want to be together.” Not that I thought Poppy’s cup of sludge had influenced me in any way. I just wanted to be clear that having people sniff chemicals for your own motives wasn’t a great idea.
“I told you that you should pay more attention to her Amazon ordering history,” Willow said, looking down at her sister like she was such a child.
Mental note. Check Amazon weekly. “Pops, I guess if you were trying to bring us together, this means you’re cool with me going and talking to Dakota?”
“Totally.”
“I thought you girls thought I’m too old for her.”
“Oh, you are. But she doesn’t seem to mind so I’m like whatever,” Willow said. “She thinks you’re funny and to be honest, Dad, you’re really not, so that says a lot.”
Getting dragged by my own kid. This was parenthood. “I feel like that was encouragement sandwiched between about nine insults, but I’m glad I have your approval.”
My mood was way too high to have a crack at my sense of humor bring me down. If the girls were on board with me dating Dakota, the only obstacle to us being together was her potentially turning me down.
“Go get her, Dad,” Poppy said. “Bring your best game.”
A new doorman opened the door for us at our apartment building.
“We need a plan,” I said. “You two need to text her in a group text making sure she’s going to be in her apartment tomorrow night. Don’t make it obvious.”
“I’m so good at not being obvious,” Poppy said.
That was debatable. But I held my hand up. “High five. Let’s do this.”
They both slapped my hand and I pulled my phone out. I had a couple of calls to make.
Standing in the empty main room of my old apartment, I sighed. I had one suitcase, six unopened boxes that Brandon had sent over that morning, and an air mattress I had just bought, but had yet to inflate. I regretted leaving my mattress and sofa behind when I moved out. They were obviously long gone, left on the curb, thrown in a dumpster, or sold on an app for twenty bucks.
Everything about it was depressing. I was depressed. The tour had gone well. No hiccups. A good time on the road with old friends and new people alike. Yet, I hadn’t enjoyed myself. I couldn’t get Brandon out of my head. Or Willow and Poppy. I missed them and no amount of parties with Petron could change that.
The apartment was freezing cold. Shivering, I went over and turned the heat up, appreciating the hiss of the radiator cranking on immediately. When I turned, my gaze landed on the dream catcher I had left behind in the window. Crossing the creaky hardwood floors, I ran my finger over it and then turned my note to read it.
I’ll be back.
“I didn’t mean that quite so literally,” I said to the dream catcher. “The universe just loves to screw with me, doesn’t it?”
