Page 12 of Don't Fall for the Billionaire
“Yes?”
“I had a bad dream. Will you stay with me for a while?”
“Of course, I will.” I walked over to the bed and climbed on next to her.
She placed her small arm around me as her body snuggled against mine.
“A dream is only a dream, both good and bad,” I whispered.
“I was at my mom's funeral and her body was missing from the casket,” she said. “It was empty, and everyone was running around screaming and looking for her. I have that dream a lot.”
“Then you know what you need to do?”
“What?” She lifted her head and looked at me.
“When you close your eyes, I want you to call the Sandman. With one wave of his hand, he takes away all your fears. Then, he sprinkles a fine magical powder, like sand, that turns bad dreams into good and happy ones.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I smiled. “Now, close your eyes and think happy thoughts.”
She lay her head down, and my eyes began to close. I only needed to keep them open long enough for her to fall back asleep so that I could go downstairs. It was eleven o'clock, and Ashton said he'd be home around midnight.
But the opposite happened. I fell asleep for the rest of the night.
Chapter Six
Ashton
It was 2 a.m. when I walked through the door. I looked around the living room and in the kitchen for Charlotte, but didn't see her. So, I quietly walked up the stairs until I reached Eloise's room and found her sleeping peacefully next to my daughter. I could have been a dick and woken her up to go home, but I didn't want to do that at this late hour. So, I pulled the door halfway shut and went to my bedroom.
When I opened my eyes the following morning, I glanced at the clock and it read 8 a.m. Climbing out of bed, I pulled on a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt, used the bathroom, and then went downstairs to the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee. I was surprised Eloise wasn't up yet. She usually didn't sleep this late. As I leaned against the counter, sipping coffee with one hand and scrolling through my phone with the other, I heard little footsteps walking into the kitchen.
“Morning, Dad.” She wrapped her arms around my legs.
“Morning, sweetheart.” I kissed the top of her head.
“Charlotte is still up in my bed.”
“I know. I got home really late last night and didn't want to wake her. Did you two have fun?” I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice.
“Yeah. We had a lot of fun. We played, and then I had a bad dream. But Charlotte told me that if it happens again, to call the Sandman, and he'll make my bad dreams go away.”
“She told you that?” I handed her a glass of orange juice.
“Yeah.” She smiled. “It worked too. I didn't have any more bad dreams last night.”
Something was different about my daughter this morning. It was a subtle change, but there was no denying she seemed different.
Charlotte walked into the kitchen and stopped when she saw me.
“Uh, morning.”
“Good morning.” I smiled. “Can I get you some coffee?”
“Definitely. Thanks. I didn't mean to fall asleep last night. Why didn't you wake me when you got home?” she asked.
“Because I didn't get home until 2 a.m., and it was way too late for you to go home. So, I just let you sleep.”
