Page 35 of Twist of Date

“So this is just a quick pow-wow today. I feel the mixer went really well and I’ll start setting up a date or two,” she tells me, flipping open the file founder in front of her. “Actually, let me call in Layla. I’d like her involvement in this.”

As badly as I want to see Layla, this isn’t good. I don’t want Layla to be a part of this any more than she does.

She pushes a couple of buttons on the phone on her desk. It rings and I realize this is going to be on speakerphone.

“Good afternoon, Ruth.” Layla’s sweet voice flows through the speaker.

“Darling, I’ve got a client here. I need your assistance.” It’s not lost on me that she doesn’t disclose which client she’s meeting with.

“All right, which meeting room are you in?” Layla asks, her voice full of enthusiasm.

“My office this time,” Ruth tells her, grinning up at me.

She clearly doesn’t know she’s on speaker, but her voice takes on a displeased tone. “Ruth, we don’t bring clients up to the third floor. That’s what the meeting rooms are for.” She’s quiet for a beat. “You’re meeting with Cole, aren’t you?”

I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my amused smirk as she’s starting to catch on.

“Yes, he’s practically family, Layla. He can see behind the curtain.”

We are both treated to a long, dramatic sigh. “Grandma, you know that’s not why we don’t bring clients up here. Also, he most definitely is not family.”

Ruth winks at me. “Your mask is slipping, darling. You didn’t call me Ruth. But that’s your boundary, not mine.”

Layla makes a noise and I let out a small laugh, but my eyes go wide when I realize what I’ve done.

“Ruth. Tell me I am not on speakerphone right now.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”

“You have to tell someone when you have them on speakerphone,” Layla clips.

“So many rules with you,” Ruth mutters, but laughter dances in her eyes. “Are you going to be joining us? I promised Cole this was going to be a quick meeting.”

“Fine,” Layla says and the line goes dead.

“Ruth, you’re being a rascal,” I tell the old bird and that earns me a laugh and a shrug.

Moments later, there is a knock then the door swings open.

Turning in my seat, I smirk at a clearly embarrassed and slightly peeved Layla. Despite the less than enthusiastic expression, she looks fantastic. Mouthwatering in a grass-green blouse, cuffed light-washed jeans, white Pumas.

“Cole.” She flashes a tight-lipped smile and sits in the chair next to me. “What’s up?” She looks at Ruth.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you about the mixer and your thoughts on the women we invited,” Ruth tells her.

Layla opens her mouth to speak, but I have to put a stop to this.

“Actually, I think I would rather just work with Ruth on this,” I say and both women turn to me, eyes wide, confusion overtaking both of their faces. I glance at Layla, and she almost looks like she was just slapped in the face. This is going to take some explanation, but not one I want to do in front of an audience.

“I hope that’s all right,” I say, pulling my gaze from Layla, and find Ruth staring at me. Her eyes dart to Layla and then back to me. Then she schools her features and nods.

“No, that’s fine. We normally only have one matchmaker assigned to a client. You’ve just been very important and I want the best for you.”

“And I appreciate that, I do.”

Next to me, Layla stands. “Then it’s settled.”

“Lays.” I try.

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