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DANG IT.
I don’t have to see Owen’s face to know he’s probably looking at me like I’m a lunatic.
“I do, uh, a lot of social media things. Down here,” I say. “For Book Smart.”
“Oh,” he says. “Okay. Well, if it’s important, I’d grab it.”
“Yeah, I’ll just—” I walk over to the desk, pick up the microphone and headphones and try to stuff them in the bag. When there isn’t room, Owen takes the bag from me, and I give him a nod. “Okay, that’s it I think.”
“You must take your social media really seriously,” he says.
“Yep,” I say, and even though I know the less I say, the better, I can’t seem to get myself to shut up. “There are always videos to make—” (it should be noted that Book Smart’s social media has no videos, but I’m banking on Owen not bothering to look that up). “I’m still learning about it, but it’s the curse of being a business owner. No matter how much you hate it, you have to be on the socials.”
Oh my giddy aunt, I wish I’d shut my blathering mouth.
His brow furrows, but he doesn’t respond.
“So. . .yeah. Ready?” I push past him to leave, hoping he follows, also hoping there’s nothing else in the office to incriminate me. I’m generally pretty careful, but I never planned on having anyone else in this space.
“Will other people be in here, you know, looking around?”
“Why, is there a dead body buried under the house or something?”
Might as well be. The shock of anyone finding out that I’m the one behind The Hopeful Romantic, telling people how to have successful relationships, would be about the same.
Chapter Nine
Owen
We step outside, stash my stuff in my trunk, and take off the masks when my phone buzzes with a text notification.
I take it out and glance down, and immediately think, Oh, great.
Lindsay
Hey, O, are you up for filming later on?
Emmy is locking her front door, and I’m wishing I wasn’t the one who had to take her back here to see her house in this condition.
I might not be the best guy in the world, but seeing her take this all in is a little too much, even for me.
Emmy turns around and looks at me. There’s a tension between us (I think?). Not unlike this house, there’s air that needs to be cleared.
I’m not going to bring it up right now. That would most likely make everything even more awkward.
“It’s Lindsay,” I say.
“Oh.” Emmy starts digging around in her purse.
“She wants to know about the interview.”
She doesn’t look up.
“We don’t have to do it,” I say, meaning it.
She glances at me. “I said I would.”
“Yeah, but you’re allowed to change your mind.”
