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A couple days later, I check my suit in the mirror and notice a smudge on my cufflinks.
Frowning, I comb my hair for the third time.
Destiny appears in the doorway.
“What? Too much cologne?” I grind out.
“No.”
“Not enough?” My eyebrows go up.
“Ew, Dad. No. And believe me, I have zero desire to sniff you.”
I snort loudly.
“I just came to tell you I’m spending the night at Sarah’s. Her boyfriend broke up with her over an argument about a Band-Aid. She’s pretty upset.”
“She’s better off without the pencil dick.” I catch myself too late. “Pardon my French.”
Destiny bursts out laughing.
I’d chide myself over the coarse language, even if I know she’s heard a thousand times worse by now from Netflix and a hundred different teenagers. But more importantly, Eliza and I have the house to ourselves.
I wasn’t expecting that.
“Harsh. You don’t even know him,” she says.
I shoot her a hard look. “I was in high school once. Any girl is better off without high school boys. Trust me.” I wag my finger.
She rolls her eyes.
There are times when I wonder if she’s hiding her dates from me, knowing I’d like to get to know any boy after my daughter over cold beet juice and polishing my Navy tactical knife.
“Does my hair look okay? This damn humidity, I swear...I miss the rain,” I say, running a hand through my hair again.
“Looks like it always does,” she says with a nod.
“What does that mean?”
Destiny shrugs quickly. “Dude. If she likes you enough to go out with you, she’ll be happy with your hair. It hasn’t changed in ten years and it’s not tangled up in a greasy bird’s nest. That’s pretty good for a guy.” She cocks her head. “I mean, there might be some grey streaks, but...you’ll manage.”
I side-eye her hard.
“You put the grey there, Dess. And what do you mean ‘she?’”
“C’mon, it’s obvious you have a date tonight.”
I bite back a smile.
“...what if I don’t?”
“You do, Dad. I’m not dumb. There’s no point in acting like you’re on a secret mission.”
Shit. I wasn’t expecting this conversation right now.
Still, I look at her and say, “Should we talk about it?”
“Um, no. There’s nothing more awkward than talking about your love life.”
Thank fuck.
I dodged a massive bullet.
“But it’s okay, Dad. Really. I want you to be happy, have a normal life, especially after you’ve spent so much of it raising me. No need to worry while I go listen to Sarah whine all night about her loser ex. I told her not to date him anyway.” She huffs out a breath. “Just try not to ruin this, okay? I like Eliza.”
Gaping silence.
I’m almost taken aback, even if I know I shouldn’t be.
“You know it’s Eliza?”
“Duh. You drool when she walks in the room.”
I’m definitely boned. Someone in HR must be too scared to bring me in for a talk if a fifteen-year-old noticed.
“It’s not that obvious, is it?”
She stares through me like I’m stupid. “Uh, maybe not if you’ve never seen a movie or gone to like middle school.”
Damn.
“It’s cool. I think she likes you too.”
“You do, huh?” I quirk an eyebrow, adjusting my sleeve in the mirror again.
“Yeah. When you’re in a room together, she always watches to see if you’re going to look at her. When you do, she tries to look away but always smiles when she does.” Destiny shrugs. “I guess some things never change after high school. Oh, and if she didn’t like you, she probably wouldn’t have agreed to this date in the first place.”
“You’re too observant,” I clip.
“Well, yeah. Uncle Troy told me too.”
Of course he did.
“You and Troy talk a lot lately.” How much time is he spending with my daughter?
And what the hell is he telling her?
I need to have a talk with him since he’s been hanging around the office longer than planned.
“Don’t be mad! We both think Eliza is lit—like, totally good for you—”
“Destiny, you can’t say anything about this, okay? Not even to Troy. Don’t encourage him. He might be my age, but the man never left high school, socially. This is all very new.” I sigh. “We also have a strict policy against managers dating their employees for everyone’s protection. Eliza and I need to figure out an ethical way to see each other soon, but until then, I need you to keep quiet. You promise?”
“Promise. And Dad, there’s one more thing...”
“What now?”
She shifts in place, staring at her feet before she looks at me again. “I kinda have a date tomorrow, too—and you’re not going to complain.”
Oh, damn her to hell.
She’s engineered this whole thing in her favor.
“Who?” The word comes out like a bucket of nails rattling.
“Um, with my boyfriend?”
“You have a boyfriend? Since when?” Goddamn, I’m going to need to pull that tactical knife out of storage after all.
