AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I didn’t miss the look in his eyes that day. He’s into me.
When I pull up to the resort, I almost forget to even put the car in park before getting out to rush up to see him.
Chapter 21
Oliver
I’m in my office, waiting for Sophie, and putting off work. My stomach contains a kaleidoscope of butterflies, which is something she told me once—that a group of butterflies is called a kaleidoscope.
I can’t wait to see her. But I’m also thinking of this morning, when Sebastian mentioned something in a meeting with finance about the billable hours for freelancers being higher than expected. He had the nerve to give me a dirty look.
I reminded him that I used my personal funds for the office décor, and that Sophie’s job is only temporary. Yes, his all-seeing eye promptly found out about the mini makeover I did.
Are there rules against dating freelancers? If I were to ask our mom, she’d probably say yes, but then smile and ask me who I was interested in and how serious it was. I wouldn’t ask Dad—but if I did, he’d tell me I should have been married three years ago, but that dating anyone connected with the company was a bad idea for our public image.
I get exactly nothing productive done until Sophie arrives, and after chatting with her for a few minutes, my head has cleared. I think I can finally focus on work.
Now if I could stop glancing over at her every three minutes.
“What would you think about this write-up for the resort website?” Sophie asks, not looking over at me. A new email from her comes through.
“Normally, I’d ask our copywriters in Denver to do this.” I glance over the short paragraph describing the resort library, smiling at words like ‘cozy yet sophisticated.’ “But it looks like they won’t have to earn their keep on this because it’s brilliant.”
I think of my attempt at a “Define the Relationship” talk the other day at the book show. That wasn’t really the time or place for a discussion like that, so I don’t blame her for shutting it down. She did acknowledge that we care about each other and that’s enough for now.
I hope it is. My return to Capri is always there, though, at the back of my mind. It pulses into my awareness. I want to invite her to come with me—maybe that will be the right move soon. I know she’s the poster child for all things Longdale. But a stay in Capri wouldn’t be permanent. She might love to get away for awhile.
I come to myself as she pipes up again.
“Thanks for saying that. And thanks for the flowers.” She stands from her desk, walks over to mine, and holds out her hand.
I take it and stand. “I hope they were as pretty as the website promised.”
She puts the hand not holding mine over her heart. “Oh. They are divine. Finally got the dog smell out of my car.”
“Wilford.” I laugh and shake my head.
“They did almost kill me, though.”
“What almost killed you?” I’m laughing because Sophie’s dramatic. Things are life and death much of the time.
“The flowers.”
“You’re not allergic to flowers, are you?” I suddenly realize there’s actually a lot about Sophie that I don’t know. Which reminds me that I didn’t value her like I should have, didn’t pay her the kind of attention she deserved. I won’t make the same mistake again.
She laughs. “No, I’m not allergic. I think you’d know if I were.”
I want to know. I want to know everything about her.
“But it was so big,” she continues. “And I hadn’t heard the delivery guy come in, so I turned around, ran right into the bouquet, and fell.” She smacks her forehead.
“Oh, no.” I gather her in my arms, my hands low on her waist.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m fine. My rear end is a little sore.”
Any mention of any number of her body parts will have me distracted and I can’t let myself go there right now.
“I wish I could have delivered them myself, but you know,” I say. “The grand opening is coming up, and there’s a lot to do. This is crunch time.” The loads and loads of to-dos keep getting longer by the minute and I feel the pressure of needing to get this right. So what if this is our tenth property? This one’s extra special. And I realize, with another zing across my stomach, that this venture cannot fail. Our Bahamas property? That could have failed, and it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.
