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“That’s it?”
I nodded. “Let’s do four o’clock. Does that work?”
“Uh, sure. Wednesday at four. Got it.”
Oliver stood there, looking unsure for probably the first time in his life, watching me as I gathered my papers and went to my desk. Though I was aware—too aware—of his presence, I refused to acknowledge it. I had learned my lesson where men like him were concerned: bad behavior was not rewarded.
Ever.
“I guess I’ll see you Wednesday, then.” He waited another beat, shrugged and, finally, he left.
That had gone about as well as could be expected.
Day one down.
Twenty-nine more to go.Oliver“Do you have a warrant to enter the premises?” Big hazel eyes looked up at me, an air of authority about them that was only minimized by the smirk on the girl’s face.
Lila Jacobs was the most adorable eight-year-old I’d ever met, and also the smartest. “I was invited?”
One blond brow rose in a look that was an exact replica of her father’s and she held her hand out expectantly. “Warrant, please.”
I pulled the blue paper bag from behind my back and held it out of her reach. “No warrant, all I have are hazelnut cream puffs.”
Lila gasped in surprise before she schooled her features. “No warrant, no entry.”
“Lila, stop harassing people or we’ll stop getting visitors.” Chris’ exasperated tone put a smile on my face.
“But, Daddy, Officer Beechum said that it’s all about authority. Sound like you have it, and people will treat you like you do.” Her little chin jutted high in the air, defiance radiating from her perfectly squared shoulders.
“You’re eight, you don’t have any authority,” he deadpanned. I had to stifle a laugh.
Lila sucked in a breath. “Yes I do!” She stomped her foot, losing all ground she might have made. “Fine, I’ll have a cream puff!” She stormed off, leaving me and Chris staring at one another awkwardly.
“That’s new.”
Chris shrugged and nodded for me to enter. “What’s up? Must be serious if you brought treats.” I didn’t say anything at first and he stopped, looking back at me with a pensive expression on his face. “You had your first meeting with Time For Love.” It wasn’t a question.
I nodded. “I did.”
A sympathetic smile flashed. “Want a beer?”
“Something dark and full-bodied?”
Chris laughed. “Thought you would have had enough of Eva by now.” His smirk was the last thing I saw before he led me into the kitchen.
“Very funny.” But he wasn’t wrong. As much as she’d stunned me with her dismissal yesterday, I couldn’t stop thinking about those damn leather pants she wore, or that soft blouse that seemed to hug her breasts like a lover.
“I know that look well, so don’t bother lying. You might not like the lovely matchmaker, but you want her.” Chris shrugged. “Makes sense. Opposites attract and all that.”
I laughed it off. “You’re a writer, you see a story everywhere.” But he wasn’t wrong. As much as the woman rubbed me the wrong way, I’d spent more time fantasizing about her than I wanted to admit. Even to myself.
“Maybe so, but doesn’t mean I’m wrong. How’d it go?”
I shrugged, because that was about as much insight as I had. “Don’t know, but I’d say… not good.” I shook my head, still unable to believe how terrible it had been. “The woman is impervious to my charms. And uptight as hell.”
Chris’ deep laugh drew my attention to him. He shook his head. “You mean she doesn’t let you get away with using charm to get out of anything personal?”
I shook my head. “No. She made a big deal about me showing up late and then gave me attitude about the questionnaire. Like I said, uptight.”
“Or maybe she’s just insulted you don’t take her work seriously. Like, say, if someone said that blogger and podcaster weren’t real jobs.” As he’d intended, the jab hit right in the center of my chest. “I think Eva Vargas nailed you pretty good at The Mayflower.”
“No fucking way!”
“Language,” he grunted, pointing a wooden spoon covered in tomato sauce at me. “Lila repeats everything. Everything.”
Just to lend credence to his words, she let out a sharp cry of frustration and then, “No fucking way!”
“Lila! Go to your room!”
“Sorry, Daddy!”
He smiled and shook his head. “I know, but go to your room, anyway. Fifteen minutes in solitary. Reading only.”
“Okay!” Her whine was quickly replaced with excitement and seconds later, her footsteps flew up the stairs like a rocket, followed by a hard slam of the door.
“Sorry.”
He shrugged and went back to the big red pot. “It’ll give you time to tell me why you were late while I whip up this spaghetti.”
“Enough for three?” I asked, like the greedy leech I was. “Hey, I brought dessert.”
“Then I suppose you can stay. Now talk.”
“My mom called to let me know that my kid sister Sierra is getting married. She’s twenty-two and they’re all acting like it’s a good thing, some huge accomplishment. She’s a child!” It just didn’t make sense, encouraging someone so young to make such a big decision.
