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I swallow hard. “Thank you.”
He nods again and grabs my hand. “Come see the library area!”
I shouldn’t do it. I shouldn’t say yes to curating the library. Even though they’d be hard pressed to find someone better suited—for some reason, most of my self-esteem comes from knowing I’m a boss where books are concerned—I know it’s a recipe for disaster.
Because I like Oliver. I like him likethat.And every time he comes back into my life, even for a couple of hours at the shake shop, I’m reminded. No matter how many times I tell myself he can’t mean anything to me, I’m caught up again.
We leave the office and head down the hall. Several yards past the other end of the third-floor balcony, I squeeze his hand, his gift tucked against my chest with my other arm. I go against my better judgment. “Let’s do this. Let’s curate the heck out of this library of yours.”
His eyebrows rise and his mouth makes an O. “You’ll do it?” He side hugs me and then presents the area for the library. “Here it is.”
Claustrophobia claws at my throat. I’m confused. This can’t be right.
I smile, my eyes are wide. But inside, I don’t understand how I can possibly make this work.
Chapter 6
Oliver
I don’t know what’s worse. The look on Sophie’s face when I show her the library nook or the look on her face when Sebastian walks up.
Both remind me of thatTom and Jerrycartoon when Tom the cat is so mad he turns red. You can see it happening—her face going from her normal, light shade to something closer to the beets our chef, Lionel, puts in my salad sometimes. Sophie is Tom reincarnate.
It’s not like Sophie’s necessarily mad, per se. At least I hope not. I guess she’s disappointed in both the space and in seeing Sebastian again.
Because after she sees the library area, she barely has any time to recover the thinness of her lips and the red flush across her throat before Sebastian sucks up all the wind out of the room with his presence. And there go her cheeks and lips again. Once again like Tom’s.
Maybe Sophie’s red because she’s glad to see him. I don’t really know because the moment I see her blush at him, I find myself suddenly very occupied with the parking lot four floors down.
“Sophie,” Sebastian says in his signature gravelly voice, his head tipping in her direction. A lot of women dig that whole blustery, “I’m wind chapped and grumpy” persona Sebastian has cultivated.
Cultivated? He was born this way—with a scowl. In every baby picture of him, his little forehead is wrinkled and he’s looking at the camera like “Sigh. Pictures again? But I’ll be late for my diaper change and scheduled tummy time.”
I give him a hard time because I consider it my duty to keep him humble. But when push comes to shove—and there’s been a lot of pushing and shoving amongst the Tates over the years—he’s my brother and I admire him. He not only took Tate International to what it is today, but he’s also the one who taught me how to tie a necktie and dribble a basketball.
Underneath the cold exterior, there’s a good heart in there. I just doubt most people have seen evidence of it.
And like I was saying, the ladies are drawn to him. If his dollar bills in the bank don’t attract them enough, then his Mr. Darcy approach to life sure does.
It didn’t ever really bother me, this ability that Sebastian had to break hearts left and right, until it was Sophie’s turn to crush on him. That’s when I took personal offense to it.
But that’s neither here nor there. Because it was a long time ago and I don’t have any claim on Sophie or her heart.
That doesn’t mean I can stand watching her gawk at my brother, though. And is he gawking back? I know she looks unreal in that dress of hers—sexy because it clings to her in all the best places, yet shy with the cute collar and sleeves.
Which is why I turn my attention back to the mostly empty parking lot. I can’t do this right now.
She sees him and does a slight giggle cough thing in the back of her throat. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before. Leave it to Sebastian to be the catalyst for a new Sophie sound.
How soon can I redirect her back to the conversation at hand? The part where she’s obviously concerned about the library nook. Except I’m not sure I want to revisit that either. Instead, I have to hear the back and forth between them and it’s like nails scratching against every paper cut I’ve ever had.
“Sebastian, it’s been a long time,” Sophie says in a voice that’s heavy with nerves. “This resort is off the hook.”
And then she clears her throat again, and I have to stifle a laugh.Off the hook?Does anyone say that anymore? This makes me want to both laugh and cry.
“Thank you,” Sebastian says. “I heard something about a petition for a new library? I figured you’d be involved with that.”
“Yes. I’ve been working on it for awhile. We finally got the required number of signatures. Now we’re just waiting to hear about the possibilities.”
