Page 36 of The Overtime Persuasive

“Finally.” Tripp lifts his bag. “That’s my banana pudding.”

Lucy looks delighted. “I love you.”

He leans down and pulls her in for a big hug. “And that is why you’re my favorite Snyder.”

He says goodbye to Vivian, promises Lucy he’ll see her soon, and gives me a final smile. We watch him return to the counter, where another bag waits beside the register.

Lucy takes a long drink of her iced tea while I stare at her.

“You invited a man I met only minutes ago to live in my building.”

She lifts a shoulder, letting it drop. “I invited him to look at an apartment.”

“Actually,” Vivian interrupts, “Lucy, you announced it as though he’d won a game show.”

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“However, don’t get me wrong, Eva.” Vivian reaches for the cornbread. “I’m not saying it was a bad idea.”

“And thank you, Vivian.” Lucy gestures enthusiastically toward her. “How much better can it get than a referral from your best friend?”

I look back at Tripp. He’s talking to the server again, probably discussing the spiritual importance of banana pudding. He seems friendly. Charming for sure. Harmless enough.

If this does work out, then it really is a good thing. Serendipitous, too, that I would be here with Lucy and we’d run into Tripp. Sometimes things are supposed to happen, right, like we can’t control them. There is something bigger than us making things happen, and tonight, it connected me to a potential new tenant, which will most certainly help my financial situation and ease some stress.

And no, I don’t know him, but Lucy does.

And Liam already likes him enough to offer him a room, right?

Yet, for reasons I cannot explain, that does not make me feel better.

CHAPTER 9

LIAM

To-do lists are never ending, and can be the bane of my existence. I need to pick up dry cleaning. Get new skate laces, which I should have just ordered online. Get that birthday card for my mother that I’ll inevitably sign the morning of her actual birthday, because apparently twenty-nine years has only taught me to plan so far in advance.

But, I’m trying.

Lucy, on the other hand, is my total opposite. She’s most likely already planned a whole “birthday day out” for our mother—for next year’s birthday. A day that will entail all kinds of fabulous and thoughtful surprises, where one can tell that a lot of effort and planning went into it. And I’ll look like the twin that failed.

I guess things could be worse. And when I look at the slip of paper in my hand, well, that’s the whole list. All of it. Twenty minutes to get it all done, then I can clock in for my unofficial shift at Side B.

I push the door open to enter the dry cleaners and grin as I glance at my watch. Magic. I’ll be early. I like it.

Tonight has been on my calendar so I would not accidentally make plans. I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of today’s downtime calculating exactly how many hours stand between me and the moment I walk into that shop when I should have been pouring over game footage or hitting the gym.

However, I’m not going to examine that too closely. Not this time…but maybe later.

For once, I time my arrival perfectly. Six-twenty on the dot, so hooray me for being beyond punctual. Something no one in my family would ever believe happened, by the way. The bell gives its strangled little rattle as I push through the door, already halfway into whatever opening line is going to make Eva roll her eyes at me…but, I don’t get to use it.

Eva stands with someone at the counter, looking like an ethereal fantasy come to life—even if only to destroy any self-control I have. She’s angled in a way that I can see the delicate slope of her neck, the line of it disappearing beneath her blouse. Her head is bent over an open folder, blond hair loose and spilling over. She. Is. So. Pretty.

Then I drag my eyes to see who this other person is, and my gut wrenches.

Across from her, leaning against the counter like he’s been there awhile, is one Tripp Mercer.

He’s wearing a faded Harley Davidson T-shirt. Old sneakers with a hole starting at one toe, and his Dominion cap is on backward, like he’s trying to hold on to his youth. He’s laughing at something Eva says, holding a pen in his hand as he signs something on the dotted line while Eva, giggling, points to the next place he needs to initial.