Halftime Husband (Sassy in the City 5)

“That sounds fun. The Big Easy.”

“It’s for work,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You know, the coaching thing.”

“Hey, have you met the quarterback? He shares a name with you. Dakota. Dakota North.” Elijah gave a dreamy sigh. “That is a beast I would like to tame.”

“No, I have not met him. He is definitely good-looking,” I said. “And a party animal.”

“My type completely.”

“Given the number of women he’s been seen with, I think it’s safe to say he’s straight.”

“I don’t have to buy. I’m just looking.”

That made me laugh. “Fair enough.” I moved to my kitchen, stopping the mover who was about to grab an open box on the counter. “Oh, can you leave that? Thank you.”

“Sure. We’re all done here. We’re going to take a lunch break, then we’ll meet you at the next location at two, okay?”

“Sounds great, thanks so much.”

After they left, I dug a bottle of champagne out of the box and two plastic cups. “We have to toast to the end of an era. Bye to Harlem. Hello, Upper West Side.” I twisted the cork until it popped. “God, I’m going to miss this terrible, horrible, hellish apartment.” I glanced around, feeling very melancholy. It was a dump, but it had been the symbol of my “success” as a New Yorker. I could pay rent. I had made it.

This was a low point, that was for damn sure. Yes, I felt fortunate I had somewhere to land temporarily, but this wasn’t a proud moment for me. I poured the bubbly and handed a cup to Elijah.

“Here’s to who we are and who we’ll become,” he said, raising his glass.

“Aw. That was beautiful.” I took a sip. “Oh, God, that’s good when it’s so freaking hot outside. Don’t let me get drunk. That would really impress Brandon when I’m supposed to be taking care of his kids.”

“Do you even know how to be a nanny?” he asked. “Like, seriously.”

“I love kids,” I said, avoiding the questions. “I volunteer at the hospital all the time.”

It wasn’t exactly the same. But it wasn’t totally different either, right?

“Okay,” he said, before taking a sip.

I put my cup down and dug into the box again. I pulled out a dream catcher.

“What is that hideous thing?”

I rolled my eyes at him. “When I moved in here, the previous tenant left it with a note and the date. It said ‘I hope you catch your New York dreams’ and I thought that was the coolest thing. I saved it and now I’m adding a second note to it and leaving it for the next tenant.”

He opened his mouth and I put a hand up.

“Stop! Do not say something cynical or bitchy. I will not tolerate it. I’m not the most sentimental person in the world but I don’t have a heart of stone either. This is cute, damn it, and I’m doing it.”

“Sure,” he said, sounding like he had a thousand things he wanted to say and was choking on all of them.

“You’re a dream crusher, not a dream catcher,” I told him.

He shrugged.

I hung the dream catcher in front of the window that I’d had covered up for three years. Despite it being noon in August, there was no sunlight penetrating the glass. I had no intention of telling Elijah what I had written. I’d put my initials and the date too.

And something else that now as I ran my finger over the note and watched it spiral, I prayed was true.

I’ll be back.

It sounded a little stalkerish now that I saw it but I meant that I would have my own apartment again somed