Page 9 of When Love Is Unexpected

Zoe is an attractive woman in her late twenties or early thirties. She was a stay-at-home mom for five years until she found herself divorced and with an art degree she never used. I hired her on the spot.

When she reaches us, she hugs me, and I feel Laila let go of my arm so I can hug Zoe back.

"Oh my gosh, when did you get here?" Zoe asks.

"This morning," I say.

"The jet lag is going to knock you out," she says, with one hand resting on my arm. "You're going to need a day or two to recover. Poor baby"

I let out a nervous laugh when I feel Laila stiffen beside me.

Is she jealous?

Chapter 3

Laila

When I met this woman a year ago, I knew she wanted Sam.

I watch them as they chat for a few minutes. She's flirting with him, and he doesn't seem to mind.

"Let me show you what we've done in the back," Zoe says to both of us.

"Yes, let's go take a look," I say, slipping my arm through Sam's.

When we leave the studio an hour later, Sam can't stop singing Zoe's praises.

"Sounds like you like her," I say.

"I appreciate her work ethic," he says. "I couldn't have moved to Greece without her help. Yeah, I like her."

I file the last part of that statement in the back of my mind to be addressed later.

"Where are you staying while you're here?" I ask. "Not in a hotel."

"No, no, I'm staying at Loren's," he says. "Loren's old house, I mean, which reminds me that I have to go grocery shopping. Do you want to go with me?"

"Yeah, let's go," I say. "I'll get some stuff to make you dinner."

***

Walking up and down the aisles at the grocery store, I can't help but admire Sam's good looks. His hair is darker than I remember. He used to wear it longer, with the ends grazing the back of his neck. Now it's cut short on the sides and tousled on top. I like it.

"Has anyone ever told you you look a lot like Ryan Phillippe?"

"I'm taller," he says, "younger and better looking."

"Don't forget, more conceited," I say. "I hadn't noticed it before, but now that you've cut your hair, why did you cut your hair?"

"The women I dated in Greece liked it short."

I feel my nerves prickle.

"Ooh, more than one?" I ask, wanting him to elaborate.

"I was there for a year," he says. "I dated. Two of them were somewhat serious."

"You never told me," I say.

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