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I should have known there was a reason for the paper. My boss didn’t do anything unless it made him money.
No judgement there.
I, too, liked money.
“I see,” Oliver said slowly. “Nothing like a quid-pro-pro to keep a town honest.”
I swallowed back laughter, but Seb didn’t hide his.
“Gotta do what you gotta do.” He snorted. “What do you need from me, London?”
“Um, a lot,” I replied thoughtfully. “It’s all on my computer, though, so can I call you tomorrow?”
“Why don’t we meet for lunch instead? It’s stock taking day in the bookstore which means Holley won’t crash it because God forbid she leaves Saylor to do her job by herself.”
That time I laughed. “That works for me. I’ll text you and let you know.”
“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He squeezed me then released me, disappearing as inexplicably as he’d appeared.
At some point during our conversation, Oliver had wrapped up the soccer session with the other coaches and the boys were all heading to the dressing rooms to get changed. Sebastian had recently installed shower facilities, and boy were those welcome.
My car didn’t stink like little boy.
Well, not as much as before.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get that smell out…
“Hey,” I said, collaring Oliver after he was done speaking to one of the other moms. “Do you have a sec?”
“Sure. What’s up?” He walked off to the side with me.
“I was wondering if I could interview you.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” he groaned.
I gave him my best smile. “Please. You’re such a big part of the center and do such a great job with all these kids. It won’t be anything insanely long, and I’m going to ask all the main coaches and trainers.”
“What kind of questions?”
“A little background, how you ended up working here, and why you do it. Stuff like that. Strictly professional with a sprinkling of personal.”
He looked at me, meeting my gaze with eyes that weren’t quite blue but weren’t quite green. They hovered somewhere in the middle, like a hazel with a variation of flecks in it. “Do I get a lunch meeting for this interview?”
Whoa.
“Do you want a lunch meeting for the interview?” I raised my eyebrows. “Or are you taking a cheap shot at asking me out?”
Oliver’s tongue ran over his lower lip, and he grinned. “What if I am?”
“Then it means you’re paying instead of me.”
He laughed, and it was deep and guttural and did things to me that were not appropriate to feel right now. “Bloody hell, talk about backing a guy into a corner.”
Dipping my head, I laughed, pushing my wayward bit of hair from my eyes once more. “I’m messing with you. If a lunch meeting is easier for you, we can schedule something soon.” I opened my purse and pulled out my card. “Let me know when you’re free and we’ll work it out.”
Oliver took the card and looked at it, then tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll do just that.”
“C’mon, Mom, let’s go!” Leo burst back into the hall and tugged at my sleeve. “Mommm! I’m hungry!”
“Guess that’s my cue.” I smiled at Oliver. “We’ll see you Wednesday.”
He returned my smile before turning to Leo. “Good job. Keep practicing in your garden and you’ll be David de Gea two-point-oh in no time.”
“It’s a garden, not a yard!” Leo laughed. “Mommmm. Hungry.”
“All right, monster, let’s go.” I pulled him into my side and guided him toward the door. “What do you want to eat? Burgers? Shall we go and see Uncle Tony at Bronco’s? It’s still early. I bet he’ll let you sit at the bar.”
Leo gasped. “You think? Aunt Jasmine never lets me sit at the bar!”
“I think if you ask nicely enough.” I grinned as we headed out to the parking lot. “If not, you can tell him that Aunt Jasmine lets you and he’ll do it to be the best.”
He nodded and climbed into the car.
It probably wasn’t the best idea to teach my kid how to blackmail people, but it was too late now.
“Hey, Momma?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Did you give Ollie your phone number?”
I laughed. “I gave him my card. It’s all for work, okay? I’m doing articles on the sports center and I want to interview him.”
“Oh, okay. I thought you were going to kiss him and that’s gross.”
“Uh, no. I can confirm I have no plans to kiss Ollie, okay?”
“Okay. Can we get food now? My tummy is bumbling.”
“Rumbling.”
“See? I’m so hungry my words are wrong.”
I backed up out of the parking space with a quiet laugh. “All right, all right. Let’s get you some food.”
CHAPTER THREE – LONDON
RULE THREE: NOBODY CARES YOUR SON IS PRACTICALLY A SOCCER PRODIGY.
IRONICALLY, THAT’S HOW YOU KNOW WHO NOT TO DATE.
“Ugh, he’s hot.” Piper set a coffee down in front of me. “Did you really tease him about a date?”
