“The team is great. Oliver is great,” she says, mimicking my voice like a teenager doodling hearts in the margin of my notebook.
“No?” I shake my head quickly, too quickly. “Absolutely no reading into it.”
“Uh-huh,” she says in that tone that means she’s reading into it anyway.
“What?”
“You singled him out, Addison.”
“I just meant… he’s great as captain. Leadership. Team stuff. Sports things.”
“Sports things,” she repeats, raising a brow as she bites back a laugh. “So he’s not cute or charming or anything like that?”
“I didn’t say that.” I groan, dragging a hand over my face. “I mean, he’s objectively attractive in a professional way.”
Mom laughs, shaking her head. “In a professional way?”
I peek between my fingers. “It’s just nice having people to rely on,” I say, suddenly fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “Like him. And Luke and Pippa.”
“Mhmm.” She grins. “But especially Oliver.”
I sit up, pointing a finger at her. “Mom. Stop. There’s nothing going on.”
“I never said anything was going on. I just asked if he was cute. You’re the one on the defensive.”
“Mom.”
“But just in case, be careful. Work crushes can be wonderful. But as you know, they can also be a mess.”
“I don’t have a work crush!” I insist. “I have a work appreciation.”
“Right, right.” She laughs, taking pretend notes in the air. “A work appreciation for the professionally attractive captain. Got it.”
I roll my eyes, but she doesn’t stop laughing. Before she can grill me further, I change the subject.
“So, there’s an international break coming up. I thought about flying back to New York to see you and Dad.”
“You could,” she says, “but we’re going to be in Santa Ana that week for a conference. You could meet us out there?”
“Eh,” I say, shaking my head. “That’s a lot of travel for one or two days.”
“What are you going to do instead?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I'll probably just hunker down in the apartment for a few days. Maybe I’ll learn to cook or something.”
She snorts so hard she nearly chokes on the water she’s been sipping. “You? Learn to cook? Honey, please let me know ahead of time so I can alert whatever London fire station you live near.”
“Very funny,” I deadpan, though my mouth twitches. “I am capable of following a recipe.”
“Sure, when it’s baking,” she says, grinning. “But for some reason, cooking is where the wheels come off for you.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she says, giggling.
I glance at the clock. “I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes, but I’ll call you again soon.”
“You better,” she says, softening. “I miss you.”
