Page 27 of Sunshine
“I get it,” I agree, because I do. It makes sense. I want those things for Dylan too. Didn’t I think a few days ago that what Dylan needs is a reminder of who he used to be? “So, how can I help?”
Daisy turns her screen toward me and opens her direct messages. “Eighteen women responded to my post, and I need you to help me decide which one is the best suited to Dylan.”
My brows shoot up. “Eighteen?”
Daisy chortles. “I know, right? Just proves my point about there not being enough good men out there.”
By the time we work through every application, Daisy has found reasons to reject sixteen of the eighteen hopefuls. It’s a process that takes way too long and leaves me nauseous from the nerves and suspense, and at the end of it, two women who meet Daisy’s standards are two too many for me.
“Let’s start with Molly,” Daisy says, opening the chat window and typing out a message to the gorgeous brunette with a profile that didn’t let her down. “What do you say to me setting something up at The Tipple on Saturday night?”
“This Saturday night?” I ask. “As in the night I’m working behind the bar?”
“Yep.”
“But what about…? What about Izzy?” I scramble for an excuse to not be a witness on what might be the night Dylan falls in love with his perfect match. “I’ll need to be home with her.”
“You need the tips,” Daisy replies, still focused on the screen. “And it’s not like I’ve got plans. I’ll stay home with Izzy.”
“What about Friday night? Or Sunday?”
“Saturday is the only night Dylan’s sous chef can fill in for him at the restaurant.”
“How do you know that?”
Daisy smirks as she hits send. “I called her. I’m covering all my bases on this one. There’s no way Dylan’s getting out of it.”
My stomach twists, and I wish I hadn’t gorged on so much junk food. “I guess you’ve got it all figured out.”
“You bet.” Daisy snaps her laptop closed and sets it on my bedside table. “So, should I just crash here tonight or—”
My phone rings loud enough to make us both jump. It’s lying there on the blankets between us, so there’s no way to hide the fact that Wade is calling me. Again.
Daisy snatches it up before I can, and then holds it aloft with horror. “Why is Wade calling you?”
I take the phone from her, silence the ringtone, and set it on my nightstand. “I don’t know. I never answer.”
“So, he does this often?”
“No,” I say, my tone defensive without meaning it to be. “Just once last week and then again last night.”
“Poppy.” Daisy drops her face into her hands and shakes her head before surfacing again. “What’s going on? Are you thinking about getting back with him? After everything he put you through?”
“No. It’s not like that.”
Daisy’s face softens and she sets her hands on my cheeks so she can stare into my eyes. “Penelope. I don’t say it enough, but I love you. And one day, the right guy will come along, and he’ll love you too—as much as I do and in the way you deserve. But please—I beg you—loveyourself. Don’t believe Wade’s bullshit because it makes you feel better about not having found the rightguy yet. We both know his words aren’t real and the good guy routine won’t last.”
“I know, but—”
“And don’t fuck him either.
I laugh. “I won’t.”
“Good.” Daisy drops her hands and climbs off the bed. “So, I think I might head home. I’ve got an early morning trail ride so as much as I’d love to stay and snuggle, I’ll hate myself in the morning when I need to get up half an hour earlier than I would back at the ranch.”
“Totally fine,” I say. “I’ll see you tomorrow at some point anyway.”
Daisy hugs me extra tight when she says goodbye, and I try to take strength from it. She knows without my telling her that I’ve always had a soft spot for Wade because he’s the only man in my life to come back after he leaves. It felt nice when I was younger and, even though I know it’s bullshit, in my more vulnerable moments his attention feels nice now too.
