AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I totally want to see you and you know it. I also can’t wait to meet Oscar after hearing so much about him. It’s just the whole idea of having a party in my honor…” I shrug.
“Look at it as a ‘have a great trip’ sendoff party since the next day you’re flying out to Germany. That way you won’t feel so self-conscious about it.”
She knows me well.
“You’re funny.”
“Speaking of pending business trips with your super sexy and very naughty boss-slash-client, did you hook up over the weekend?”
“No. He spent the weekend with a blonde and her best friend—”
“Motherfucker!” Phoebe’s eyes shine bright with fury.
“Calm down, guard dog. He was spending the weekend with his niece and her dog.”
“Oh. Okay, that’s officially the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Ditto that,” I tell her.
“What a dichotomy—the caring uncle and the unwavering lover.”
He’s not my lover, but I don’t correct her. I also don’t admit my ovaries nearly burst when Beckett told me of his plans.
“I was worried Beckett might be cut from the same cloth as Chance,” Phoebe says.
“Mom has the same concerns.”
“What do you mean?”
I tell her about my conversation with Mom when she called to tell me Mariah was in Philly flaunting her big ass engagement ring.
“The two men couldn’t be further apart,” I say. “Beckett didn’t have to tell me he was spending the weekend on uncle duty. We’re not in a relationship. He doesn’t owe me anything. Yet, he insisted on explaining the reason he wouldn’t see me until tomorrow. I was touched beyond belief by his attentiveness.”
“He showed you the respect you deserve. That says a lot about him.”
“It does,” I say with a small smile. I’m fully aware of the blush creeping up my cheeks, but there isn’t much I can do about it.
“Arianne likes Beckett. Arianne likes Beckett.” Phoebe singsongs like a five-year-old.
“Oh, stop it!”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Do you like Beckett?”
What’s there not to like about the delicious hunk? But no way am I losing my head over another man.
“I’m just getting to know him,” I tell her.
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Phoebe says.
I ponder for a beat. “I don’t want to create a silly fairytale in my head just to end up being crushed and devastated when my make-believe castle comes crumbling down.”
“You like him.”
It’s not a question.
