Page 84 of We Met Like This
“And you’re still happy with the rest of the site?” He clicked on a few tabs to show me they worked and where each one navigated to.
“So happy,” I said.
“Here’s that query form we talked about.”
“Perfect,” I said. “You are amazing.”
Again, my phone buzzed on the coffee table, and we both turned toward the screen. I thought it would be another text from my sister deciding I needed more specific instructions than Fruit and Tray, but it wasn’t. It was from Rob.
Did you get the contract?it read. At the top of my screen, Rob’s name had a little fire emoji next to it. Shit. I’d forgotten to change that to devil horns. I growled.
“Margot.” Oliver said my name like a sigh or a whisper. One of those would indicate frustration, the other adoration, and I couldn’t decipher which one he intended. His hand was on the couch cushion by my leg and I shifted so that our skin touched, the back of his knuckles rough against the underside of my thigh. His fingers may as well have been made of hot coals the way heat poured down my calf and my cheeks instantly flushed.
The front door swung open and Sloane walked in with two plastic bags, trailed by Miles, who had two bags of his own.
“Oliver, I’m so glad you’re here. I have enough Chinese food to feed a football team and not enough mouths to eat it.” She nodded over her shoulder. “This is Miles, by the way.”
“Hi, nice to meet you,” Oliver said, his hand shifting away from my thigh.
“Why so much food?” I asked.
“The office bought it for lunch yesterday, and since I had to swing by the office today, the leftovers became mine.” Sloane stopped short of the coffee table on her way toward the kitchen. “Holy shit! Is that your website? That looks hot. Who is… Wait, is that…?” Sloane stepped closer, leaning over to get a better look.
“It’s a random image from a stock photo site that I paidfor.” I tried not to say the words too quickly or too defensively. I had promised Oliver I wouldn’t tell Sloane, and considering how much work he had done for me, I was going to fulfill my end of the bargain.
“I thought you were being extra frugal.”
“I really am.”
“Well, it was worth it.” She squinted at the screen. “You decided onheart, the word, notHartyour name?”
My eyes went back to the screen and sure enough, in my distraction over Oliver’s naked torso, I hadn’t noticed the shadow spelled H-E-A-R-T instead of H-A-R-T. “Oh, yeah, I meant my last name,” I said to Oliver.
“Your last name?” he asked.
“Hart.”
“Your last name is Hart?” he asked.
I smiled with the realization that he didn’t know my last name, that I didn’t know his. “It is. What’s yours?”
“Gray,” he said somewhat distractedly, because he was changing the spelling ofhearton his computer.
Oliver Gray.That was a good name.
“Well, your website looks amazing,” Sloane said. “You really leaned into your romance branding with this.”
“You don’t think it’s too much?” I asked, suddenly second-guessing myself.
“Doyouthink it’s too much?” Oliver asked me.
“It’s perfect.” Sloane said. “It should open the floodgates of romance authors looking for representation.”
I rubbed the back of my neck and nodded.
Sloane gave the image another scrutinizing stare and then turned to face me. “Wait, does this mean it’s official? Yourwebsite is out in the world and the requests are going to come pouring in?”
“All she has to do is push the publish button,” Oliver said. He hovered the arrow over that button but then backed away, leaving the final action for me.
