Page 108 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

“How is it at work? Is it weird?”

“Not really. We’re both still so laser-focused on our projects and clients. We do look at one another a lot. But it’s fine. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you. My immediate manager—Rick?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s moving to LA. His position will be opening up. The manager position, Meg. I’ve been working there for six years. I have to be in line for it. Don’t you think?”

“It’s yours, obviously. You’ve been there the longest of anyone who might qualify. And you meet all the criteria with flying colors. It’s in the bag!”

“I hope so. Darwin said he has a few candidates in mind. He’s basing his choice on performance on projects and leadership potential.”

“That’s you. Who else has performed well—and for years? And you are a fabulous leader.”

“Why, thank you.” I tip my soda cup in her direction.

“And humble,” Megan adds with a laugh.

I steal the dill spear off her plate. “For that comment, I get a pickle.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Logan

A man can make what he wants of himself

if he truly believes that he must be ready for

hard work and many heartbreaks.

~Thurgood Marshall

“You two are the cutest,”Maisy says to me in a hushed voice.

I just followed her into the kitchen to clear our plates and help her dish up dessert, foolishly leaving Olivia and Gil alone together where he can implement his personal version of the Spanish Inquisition. He may have helped get us together, but he’ll also take any and every opportunity to make my life a little more difficult. He considers it all in good fun.

“Thank you,” I say to Maisy. “I really like her.”

Maisy smiles a warm smile at me. “I think the feeling is extremely mutual. I could tell at your reunion. That dance was like one you’d see in the movies.”

I smile, remembering our dance. “I need another excuse to take Olivia dancing.”

Maisy’s face lights up. “You don’t need an excuse. Gil dances with me right where you’re standing a couple times a week, at least.”

I hand the last dish to Maisy. She rinses it and stacks it in the dishwasher.

“Good for Gil,” I say. “You two have the kind of relationship I hope to have with Olivia.”

“I have no doubt you will.”

“Well, I’d better not let Gil sit alone with Olivia for too long.”

“Agreed,” Maisy laughs softly. “He’s surely knocked your good standing down at least three pegs already in the time it’s taken us to rinse these plates. Go on. I’ll dish up the cobbler.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, tell that husband of mine to get in here to help serve our guests.”

I chuckle and head back into the dining room just in time to catch Gil taking Olivia on a walk down memory lane.

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