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She shakes her head and licks her lips. “You’re here, helping me unload everything. That’s all for now. Except, I did have a question.” She pauses. “The other day Alec was helping me with some of the furniture at the resort and he told me I should sign something with HR? I wasn’t sure if…well, I thought I’d ask you about it.”
“Huh.” I wonder why he hadn’t said anything to me. “I think we should sign whatever they need. Whatever says I can be with you.” Even as the words tumble out, I wish I could take them back because her face is locked down, her lips pale. Her eyes squeeze in agony.
“Has—has this happened before?” The pitch of her voice rises. “He mentioned something in the past that made it necessary to do this, and I realized I know almost nothing about your past relationships, Oliver.”
Instantly, I know what he’s referring to and my heart goes cold. I shoot out a breath, my mind tumbling back in time. Why Alec went there confuses me. This was a family thing, no one else needed to be involved. And it was long dead and gone. “Look, Sophie. There was something that happened in the past in our family. Before we started Tate International. It has nothing to do with me, though. I can promise you that. I want you to know I’ve never done this before—dated employees of the company, or co-workers.” My gaze is steady. “Or freelance consultants.”
She nods once, and glances over to the bus. There are three windows on this side that are still functioning as windows. The rest of them have been sealed over to accommodate the stacks. Sophie’s sister, Claire, opens a window and leans her head out. “The Tate brothers—” she gives a nod to me. “—the other ones, are helping us finish faster. Where were they hours ago, right? Anyway, what would you like us to do next?”
“I’ll be right there,” Sophie says to Claire, her voice strained and unnatural. Claire moves to close the window, staring me down before she slides it shut.
I still haven’t won her over, but I will. I have to. Anyone important to Sophie is important to me.
“I know we have to get going on the next project, but I wanted to say, there’s a lot we should discuss,” I ache to pull her into a hug, but I can tell she needs some space. “You can ask me any question about my past. My relationships, anything and everything, and I will answer them as completely and honestly as possible. But I do want to say it’s too bad about the bus, that it couldn’t be saved.”
Tears glisten in her eyes. She swallows hard. “Yes, it is. And it kills me that the readers of Marshall County are going to be unable to check out books this summer. Logistically speaking, it’s going to be the fall until we can secure a new place, mobile or not.”
I only nod. Nothing I can think to say right now would be any help to her.
We begin to walk around to the other side of the bus. “The good news is, once this gets cleaned out, I’ll be more available to you to help you with the opening. I’m all yours in a matter of days, Oliver.” She brightens a little. “I’ll even clean toilets if that’s what you need me to do.”
“I like the idea of you being all mine.” I can’t help it. I’ve fallen hard. And all of the uncertainties of the future be darned, because I can’t not say it. “But I’m not letting you clean toilets.”
She does a little cheer with her hands in fists. “I’m relieved to hear that. I was scared you’d take me up on that offer.” She laughs and gives me a quick quirk of a smile.
I open my mouth to respond, but then we both stop short, surprised at who’s standing in front of us.
I grunt and Sophie gives a little gasp.
“I didn’t know you were in town,” Sophie says.
Chapter 30
Sophie
I admit it. I tend to overreact. But I feel I’ve been very levelheaded where my grandparents are concerned. Yes, they intimidate me and push every last button I have, but they did raise me from the age of nine on up, and they did make many sacrifices to give Claire and me what we needed throughout our lives. If I hamster ball it up, I can usually make it through any encounter with some appreciation and dignity. Usually.
Which is why it’s surprising that the first thing I want to do when I see them approach my mobile library is cry.
Batten the hatches! Steel yourself! Inflate that hamster ball right back up where it belongs!
I have to find my strength. They aren’t supposed to know about whatever this is with Oliver. I have to think fast.
Then why are my feet cemented to the blacktop of the county offices? Why is my mouth too slackened to form words right now?
“Well, hello, Patricia. Vernon.” Oliver’s voice is bright. He’s ever the cheerful businessman. They’re just staring at him, as slack jawed as I am. “It’s been a while.”
He laughs, and I have to glance over to see if he’s lost his ever-loving mind. Nope. He seems lucid enough, calm even. But I know his tell—the vein in his forehead—and it’s beginning to appear.
They don’t move to respond, so he keeps going. “It’s good to see you.” He reaches out a hand.
How? How can he be so easy breezy? And in a sincere, non-threatened way? These people loathe everything about him, and he’s not worried about that?
My grandma’s face goes white, and my grandpa’s face goes reddish purple, and if circumstances were any different, I might have found that funny. Right now? My throat’s got a firebrand pressed to it.
Oliver drops his unshaken hand. It’s my grandpa who finds his voice first.
“And you’re here because…?” He tilts his head toward Oliver, leading with his ear.
