Page 24 of Mr. Match

“Am I wrong?” Oliver asks, taking two steps closer to me. He flashes me the most charming grin. “Just say so and I’ll apologize.”

I weigh my options. I can pretend to be offended and stalk off, keeping my ruse intact. My secrets safe. But then I’ll probably never see him again. And maybe this is just some rush of teenage hormones, but I might regret it for the rest of my life if this guy was interested in me and I blew him off.

“No,” I say, blowing out a breath. “You’re not wrong. He’s a client. He has a daughter’s best friend fantasy.”

“And you’re her?”

I shrug. “For this afternoon I am. Was. Going to be.”

Oliver walks off towards what might be the kitchen of this place, opens the door of a grease-stained fridge looking like it’s been in this garage for fifty years, and grabs two beers. “Want one?” he asks, popping the top off the bottle using the counter. “It’s local.”

“I’m not old enough to drink.”

“For real?” he says. “You’re a kid? Or you just look young and so you use that to play your little game with the perverts?”

“He’s not a pervert, by the way. I checked him out pretty thoroughly. And I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen. Barely underage.”

“Uh-huh,” Oliver says. “Do you want the beer or not?”

I take it, muttering, “Thank you.” Sip it while he pops the top off his too. “So you’re not against contributing to my delinquency?”

He takes a gulp of his beer, then leans back against the counter. Fucking smile. “Who did you hire to run the background check on that perv?”

I roll my eyes at his name-calling. “I did it myself. A website I found.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I got his credit-card number. And his place of employment. I even called there to make sure it was for real. And I got his wife’s name. Just in case.”

“That it, Sherlock? That all you got?”

“No,” I say, lifting my blazer up to show him my gun. “I came packing heat too.”

His guffaw echoes loudly in the high ceiling. “Ho-lee shit. Katya. You’re my dream girl.”

I smile at his pleasure and take another sip of beer, backing up to lean on the counter opposite him. “Maybe I am.”

He takes a step forward.

If I could back up I would. But I can’t. The counter presses firmly into my back.

He takes another step. “You’re one of those girls, huh?”

I bite my lip and nod. Unable to take my eyes off him. Unsure of which kind of girl he’s referring to, but still very sure I’m definitely that kind.

One more step and he’s so close to me I have to tip my head up to keep his gaze. “Is your father really out of town?”

“He’s far enough away that he won’t be missing me tonight.”

The back of his hand brushes against my cheek, then drops down to my neck. My head follows the motion because his touch… his touch…

He leans into my ear and whispers, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

Chapter Eleven - OLIVER

Dinner is good. Better than good, it’s great. I have to admit, fucking Victoria can cook. There is absolutely no Mister talk at the table. In fact, everyone is in a pretty great mood. The girls are drinking martinis and us guys are still finishing off that bottle of Stoli, so by the time we’re done eating, we are all good and buzzed and business is behind us.

That is until Pax kicks me under the table and nods towards Ariel’s office while no one is looking.