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I raise a shoulder, then let it drop. “You flew all this way.”
The motion draws Oliver’s attention to my clothes. I worked from home until I left to drive here, so I never bothered putting on anything professional. I’m in ripped jeans and a cotton t-shirt. No makeup and messy, unstraightened hair. It’s a more casual look than I’d normally wear around anyone except my family.
I didn’t want Oliver thinking I dressed up for him or care what he thinks of me. Now, I’m realizing I might have taken it too far to one extreme.
“Thanks for coming.”
Three simple,unexpectedwords. It wouldn’t have shocked me if Oliver told me the limo pulled next to the curb two cars up is here for him and he’s headed to a five-star hotel.
“Um, you’re welcome.” I shift awkwardly, not sure what to say or do next.
Spotting the same security guard spurs me into movement. I straighten and pull my keys out of my pocket. He passes us by, glancing between me and Oliver.
Unexpectedly, he smiles at Oliver. “Glad you arrived safely, sir. Your wife was very excited to see you.”
My cheeks blaze as he continues down the sidewalk.
Oliver glances to me, one eyebrow raised.
“I was worried he was going to give me a ticket for parking here,” I tell him, hastily rounding the front of my car and climbing into the driver’s seat.
Oliver stows his suitcase in the back and then climbs into the passenger seat.
“Controls are on the right,” I mutter as I start the car. His legs are shoved up against the glove compartment, too long for the current settings.
Oliver adjusts them and then leans back. “Nice car,” he comments, clicking his seatbelt into place.
I pull away from the curb, undecided if he’s messing with me. I bought this SUV new when I graduated college, and it was a splurge that took years to pay off. My parents paid for school, and that was it. Neither of them came from money, and they were careful to never “spoil” us. After graduation, I was on my own financially.
“What kind of car do you drive?”
Crew’s car was worth more than my house.
“I don’t have a car.”
I glance over at him. Oliver is looking out the window, at the line of palm trees that line the airport exit. “What?”
“I have a driver who takes me between the office and my apartment. That town car belongs to the company.”
“What about when you need to go somewhere besides work?”
“Doesn’t happen very often. If it’s a work event, I’ll use the company car. Otherwise, I’ll take public transit.”
“Youride thesubway?”
“I have, yes. Like I said, it doesn’t happen very often.” He half-smiles at my shocked expression. “It’s faster. Better for the environment.”
“How green of you.”
“Nah. I’ve just taken a lot of private jets. Need to balance that somehow.”
“You should talk about how much you love the subway, at dinner. LA doesn’t have good public transit. Also, mention you have a fear of earthquakes. Make sure to talk about how much time your job takes up. If you get a work call, take it. My dad—”
“I’m here to make your family hate me?”
“Not hate. Just recognize getting divorced is the best thing for both of us.”
Oliver makes an annoying humming sound that gives me no insight into what he’s thinking.
