Page 60 of Love in Fine Print

Typically, I was great at small talk. I’d always had the gift of gab and had been accused of being able to charm a brick wall. But ever since I’d signed on the dotted line, hell, ever since Dolly took Olivia out on the grass at the park, I hadn’t felt quite like myself.

“Yeah, I played for the Minnesota Marauders.”

“Nice.” Milo nodded. “To be honest, I don’t really follow sports.”

“Olivia mentioned this is your family’s shop.”

“My dad’s, yeah. He left it to me after he retired ten years ago.”

“My grandmother left me her business, too.”

“Oh really? What’s that?”

“Ever After Matchmaking.”

Milo laughed, thinking it must be a joke.

When he saw I was serious, his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. I thought you were kidding.”

“Honestly, so did I when I found out she left it to me.”

“Wow, that must be quite a change of pace.”

“It is.”

“You know, that’s funny, though, because I always thought Olivia would be a good matchmaker.”

“You did?” I wasn’t sure if he was fucking with me or not.

“Yeah, I know that might sound odd because she’s a divorce lawyer, but she set up Rosie and me.”

“She did?”

He nodded and I could see in his eyes that he was being sincere. “She met Rosie at a yoga retreat and told me that she was perfect for me. She gave me her number and the rest is history.”

“Wow.”

“She’s pretty amazing. You are a lucky guy.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

Too bad my luck had an expiration date.

25

OLIVIA

“It’s only for a year,”I told myself as I stared at my empty closet. My wedding was tomorrow and the day after that, I was going to be moving into Ben’s house.

When he’d told me his reasoning, I knew there was no other option. But the thought of leaving my condo was more than a little bittersweet. But, it was only for a year.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sublease this place?” Trevor asked from the bathroom. “It seems like such a waste for this to sit empty.”

“I told you, you can move in.” There was no way I’d allow strangers in my sacred space. But Trevor was my ride-or-die. He was more than welcome to stay here. Plus, that would give me a reason to come back and visit my bookshelves, and my spa-quality tub.

“Uh, no.” Trevor shook his head. “I can’t let my freak flag fly in this place, it’s too…homey.”

It was homey. That was why I’d bought it. This apartment was the only place that ever felt like home after my dad died. I hated the penthouse that my mother and I stayed in after my father was forced to move into his tiny apartment in the MissionDistrict. During the ten years that I’d lived there with her, she renovated it five times. Every two years she’d give it a “facelift” that included new flooring, tearing out walls, turning the fifth bedroom into her closet, converting the library into a home theater, a closet into a sixth bathroom. I never understood why my mother insisted on another guest bathroom when there were two of us living there, three if you counted whatever flavor of the month man was there. Three people did not need six bathrooms.

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