Page 133 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

We pull up in front of the deli.

“This place is cute,” Olivia says, looking out her window at our new client’s storefront.

“It is,” I agree. “Trendy. Inviting. I hope their sandwiches are as good as their visual appeal.”

Neither of us makes a move to get out of the car.

“So,” Olivia says, “as odd as this sounds, I’m kind of hoping you’ll reconsider taking the manager position.”

“You want me to do that?”

“Maybe both of us had our blind spots. You didn’t consider me. I didn’t consider whether the prize was really worth the race. Turns out, I didn’t really want the prize, I just wanted to be the winner.”

“And it turns out I wanted the prize, but I had the wrong prize in sight,” I tell her.

“Oh?”

“I was going for a prize that is inconsequential. The real prize—the one worth the most to me—is you. You’re the prize. What we’re starting to build together—that is the prize. I lost sight of my priorities. I lost sight ofyou.”

“That’s so very corny, Alexander.”

“What can I say? You make me corny.”

My face and tone grow serious. I stare in her eyes, daring to reach across the space between us to cup her jaw. “I’m serious, Olivia. I never want to do this again—to disregard how my ambition impacts you. I vow to consider you. Always. I’m not saying we won’t compete in the future. We wouldn’t be us if we didn’t at least race that last block home on our runs. But I won’t ever lose sight of you again. I promise.”

“That’s a big promise, Logan.” Her voice is soft.

“I don’t know if it’s big enough.”

“It’s a good start.” She smiles, and the corners of her eyes crinkle.

“I want to be the man who supports you and your dreams. You are amazing, brilliant, funny, thoughtful, passionate … and I want to be at your side when you rise to whatever challenges you face in life. I want to cheer you over your finish lines. If you’ll let me.”

Her hand raises to cup my jaw.

“Logan Alexander.” Her voice is a whisper, tinged with awe. “I never thought I’d want you to be the man I call mine.”

I’m about to say,I know, when she says, “But now I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

She leans in, and I take the invitation, moving toward her for a kiss. We’re a few inches apart when my phone rings through the car speaker.

British guy announces, “Call from Darwin Waterhouse.”

Olivia pulls back, visibly blushing.

“We don’t have to answer that,” I tell her.

“I can’t kiss you with Darwin in the car.”

I chuckle. “I’ll take the call. Then I’ll kiss you.”

She shakes her head with a shy look that has me wanting to put the car in drive and take her to Martha’s Vineyard for the weekend.

I tell British guy, “Answer the call.”

Darwin’s voice comes through the car immediately. “Hey, Logan. I know you’re out at the deli account with Olivia. I’d like the two of you to pop into my office when you’re back. Take your time. But come see me as soon as you’re back in the building.”

“Olivia’s right here with me, Darwin.”

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