Page 74 of The Truth of Us

I laughed immediately. "Hello to you too."

His eyes landed on my face, then narrowed. "What is on your nose?"

I groaned.

He stepped closer, studying me, then barked out a laugh. Loud enough, several people turned to look.

"Oh my God!" I covered my face. "They're awful, aren’t they?"

"They're glitter," he laughed.

"I know." I said between my fingers.

"Why?"

"I saw someone on social media do it."

Oliver looked genuinely horrified when he pulled my hands from my face. "You saw someone else do it?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes."

He shook his head. "You are Harper fucking Montgomery."

I froze, and then he said. “You could do anything, wear anything…”

I laughed. "What?"

"You should be setting trends." His grin returned. "Not worrying whether you can follow them."

For a moment, I just stared at him, not because of what he said, but because of how easily he said it. Like it wasn't a compliment, but a fact.

Oliver's grin softened. "There she is."

I blinked. "What?"

"That look." He pointed at my face. "The one where you're about to argue with me."

I laughed despite myself. "You haven't seen me in years, how'd you know what I was thinking?"

"No," he nodded. "But you've always made that face."

I rolled my eyes, and his smile widened. "See?"

Before I could come up with a comeback, another familiar voice interrupted.

"Harper?"

I turned, and the evening unfolded from there the way it always used to. Not like a party, more like a family reunion. People who had watched me grow up pulled me into conversations before I could escape them. Questions about Chicago, work, and whether I was eating enough.

At some point, I found myself sitting beside Margot while she showed me photographs from a charity event she'd attended. Across the room my father stood with Grant Hastings and two other men discussing foundation initiatives. For the first time in a very long time, I wasn't checking my phone, waiting for a text, or wondering whether Elliot would call. The realization caught me off guard. Because for weeks everything had felt tied to him. Every thought, decision, every hope. And now...

Now I was laughing at something Oliver said while Margot insisted we all try a dessert recipe she'd found online. I felt normal. Comfortable.

A glass of champagne appeared beside my elbow. I looked up at Oliver. He leaned casually against the arm of my chair. "Do you need me to rescue you from my mother? I think you're being held hostage."

Margot gasped. "I am sitting right here."

"I know."