Page 397 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Light and fun,” I repeated, the words feeling strangely inadequate for what we’d just done.

Olivia rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe that’s why I’m awful at relationships. Maybe I only have these crazy high standards for men because I’m scared to fail a relationship, and lose someone else I care about.”

Her words stole my breath. Olivia presented such a confident, sunshiny presence to the world. She made a living starting over in new places, with one new family after another. But she was also the girl who hated the part of the story where Sadhbh disappeared into the woods, never to return home again. She was the girl who’d lost people she loved, and was scared of losing more.

I wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her to me, fitting her back to my front. I knew too well that people came in and out of your life in ways that you couldn’t control. But if it had been in my power, I would have made it so that Olivia never lost anyone again.

“Either that, or I’ve been scarred by one too many bad online dates,” Olivia joked, and I laughed because it was clear she wanted me to.

“Do you…do you think the fear of failure might extend to career stuff?” I asked. I meant, Do you think you could be happy doing something besides nannying? Something that lets you stay in Ireland? Having an entire ocean between us didn’t sit right with me. The thought of it was enough to make my heart tighten.

Olivia looked over her shoulder and mock-glared at me. “That is annoyingly perceptive. You’re ruining my afterglow.”

“Can’t have that.” I kissed the spot behind her ear, then the base of her neck, then the back of her shoulder. I ran my hand along her side, stopping at the softness of her thigh.

“Mmm.” Olivia sighed happily, snuggling into the soft bed. “Magic hands.”

I liked hearing her voice when she was happy. “Tell me about your book. You said Molly’s submitting it to a publisher, but you didn’t tell me what it’s about.”

She hesitated. “No criticism, okay? It’s too new. You can only say, ‘Yes, Olivia, you’re a genius.’”

I laughed into her hair. “I can handle that.”

She started talking, telling me a story about a little duckling who’s lost his mom, but when he runs into trouble, he remembers his mom’s advice, and it helps him.

The more she talked, the more I could have sworn I’d heard it before.

Then it came to me in a moment of blinding clarity.

@1000words. This was exact same story @1000words was writing.

@1000words, who was temporarily in Ireland. And who had a crush on a guy she worked with. And who’d complained about a demanding boss who didn’t want what was best for a kid. And who’d needed help figuring out my showerhead.

@1000words was Olivia. Olivia, who’d told me she had a blog on Snug. Olivia, who loved all the picture books I’d gotten for Catie based on @1000words’ glowing reviews.

Suddenly, a lot of things made sense—including my attraction to both women. I hadn’t seen it first, because Olivia hid her vulnerabilities around me, and @1000words hid her real life. But they were both smart, kind, and unafraid to tell me the truth, even when it was something they didn’t want to hear.

It felt like I’d been assembling two halves of a puzzle, and finally slid the halves together so I could see the whole picture.

It felt like fate, which wasn’t something I’d ever believed in. But right now, with Olivia in my arms, it seemed like I could believe in anything.

I opened my mouth to tell her, when I remembered what she’d said about the creep who’d met her in real life, then stalked her blog and lured her into a fake friendship.

This wasn’t the same thing, at all.

But would Olivia see that?

I didn’t want to mess things up between us, and I sure as hell didn’t want to say anything that would make her feel uncomfortable, or worse, unsafe.

I decided to test the waters. “It’s so weird how people meet. You sat down next to me on a plane, and then you turned out to be the only possible nanny for the job. What if we’ve crossed paths before, and not realized it?”

Olivia made a sleepy sound, only half-listening.

I pressed on. “You write a blog on my site. What if I’ve read it, without knowing? That would be romantic, right?”

Olivia shuddered. “No thank you. My blog’s anonymous for a reason. Plus, it would remind me too much of that guy who cyberstalked me.”

A ball of tension settled in my stomach.