Page 9 of Accidental Theirs
She scoffs. “Of women?”
I spread my hands. “They’re all beautiful. Every last one of them.”
“You’re the worst.” Her words don’t match her face, the little smile on her lips.
I gesture to her mostly empty wine glass. “Want another? I’ll pay.”
She shakes her head. “Damien is taking care of my bar tab tonight.”
There’s a hint of pride in her voice.
“Damien, huh? Isn’t that against the rules or something?”
“What, a drink?” She frowns slightly. “Of course not. We’re colleagues. In fact, we’re going to dinner together this weekend.”
“Oh?” I smile, showing my teeth. “I guess you’ve gotten alittleless stuck-up than when I first met you.”
“I was barely twenty-one when we first met, and you’re my father’s boring best friend. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to meet you.”
I grin wider, a chuckle coming up from my chest. “But you’re thrilled now? Looking forward to the merger?”
Olivia stiffens. “It’s what’s best for everybody.”
My grin fades, and I look down at her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “If it’s not what you want, Olivia...”
She shrugs me off but not violently. Olivia shakes her head as if clearing it.
“I’m not here to talk about the merger.”
I freeze. “You’re not?”
She shakes her head, that little, wicked grin spreading across her face again.
I swallow hard.
Is she... is shehittingon me?
“I’m not sure your father?—”
“Did you use to be married?”
I freeze for a whole different reason. “That’s really none of your business, is it?”
I know my words seem cool, but my marriage isn’t something I want to talk about right now... or ever.
She pouts. “It’s not, but I’m curious. Are you going to have a crazy ex-wife show up to the office after the merger?”
I shake my head. “Nothing like that.”
I don’t offer any more, and she just looks up at me for a moment longer and sighs.
“I guess I’ll never get to eat at Sophia’s.”
I don’t know what that means, and I don’t care, I just suddenly need some air.
I nod slightly to excuse myself and make my way through the crowd to the back door, opening it and gulping in the cool night air.
My throat tightens with the mere mention of my marriage, and I refuse to break down. Not here. Not now.
