Page 81 of We Met Like This
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, see you next Sunday at four. Bring your suit if you want to swim. The boys would love that.”
“Then I will for sure. See you then.” And because I couldn’t contain my snark I added, “Tell Mom I say hi.”
I could practically see the eye roll she probably gave our mom in that moment. “Maggie says hi.”
“Hi!” Mom called from the background.
I tugged on a loose string on the arm of the couch. “Audrey, if you don’t want me to come to the barbecue, if I’m too much chaos right now for you—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I do. I want you to come.”
There was a knock on my door. Oliver.
“Do you have company?” Audrey asked.
“Just a friend.”
“You’re starting a relationship in the middle of all this?”
“I said ‘a friend.’”
“It was the way you said ‘friend.’”
I had no idea how I had said it, but she obviously knew me better than anyone. That’s why her not believing I could start my own business was hard to hear. “We’re taking it slow.”
“Not a good idea.”
“I shouldn’t take it slow?”
“You know what I mean. You shouldn’t be starting anything new right now. You need to focus.”
“Thanks, Audrey,” I said, holding back a sigh. “I’ll take that into account.”
“Good,” she said.
We hung up and I answered the door. Oliver stood there wearing a gray hoodie, jeans, and a pair of black Vans. He held his laptop under one arm. It was bright outside. I squinted up at him, my heart picking up speed.
“Hi.” His eyes were soft and warm and looked like they were happy to see me. “You’re annoyed. You were expecting me, right?”
“Yes, sorry, come in. This is a leftover annoyed face from the phone call I just finished.” I took a step back and opened the door wider.
He walked inside, bringing his Oliver scent with him. I couldn’t decide if his scent made him fifty percent more attractive or if that was giving it too much credit.
I shut and locked the door. I wanted to hug him, I needed a hug, but we’d just recommitted to starving ourselves of physical affection so I kept my hands to myself.
He held up his laptop. “Where do you want to do this? Here?” He pointed to the couch that I had obviously just abandoned. My butt print was still on the cushion and everything. Or maybe it was my laptop and empty coffee cup on the table that tipped him off. Or the contract Rob had sent the night before spread across the coffee table, the pages crinkled from my intense study. I hadn’t found any new info. It was everything Sloane had claimed it to be the night before.
“Yes, have a seat,” I said. “Thanks for bringing it to me. You didn’t have to.”
“I’m pretty close, remember?”
“Oh yes, did you need to borrow my toilet?”
He gave me his wide smile and perched himself on the edge of the couch. He placed his laptop next to mine while I gathered and stacked the contract pages, attempting to tidy up the space.
“The infamous contract?” he asked.
