Chapter 24
My sister’s name scrolled across my phone screen the following afternoon and my heart jumped to my throat. We hadn’t talked since my drunken texts to her, despite my multiple attempts to do just that.
I shifted, moving the laptop I’d been holding for the last several hours to the coffee table.
I’d been composing and recomposing social-media posts announcing my agency.
Nothing sounded right. Oliver was on his way over to show me the finished website, but until I could direct people to that, I couldn’t post them anyway.
“Hello,” I answered, trying to infuse my voice with the proper amount of penitence.
“Hi,” she said. I couldn’t tell from that single word how she felt.
“Hi,” I parroted. “How are you? I mean, how are you feeling? The baby okay? The boys?”
“We’re all good.” Okay, that response was clearer. She wasn’t happy.
“I’m sorry for not being completely honest with you about my job and my promotion.”
“Completely honest?” she said. “You lied, Maggie.”
“I know. I was embarrassed. Everything you touch turns to gold and I feel like the opposite happens for me. What’s the opposite of gold? Horseshit? I have a life full of horseshit right now.”
She snorted out a laugh. “You don’t.”
“I really did start my own agency. And it might be nothing right now, but I think it can be something. I have a website and everything.”
“You do? I’d love to see it.”
“It’s not quite ready, but it will be.”
She sighed. “You’re a teddy bear, not a shark.”
“You don’t think I can do this?”
“You can’t start your own business on a whim. That’s something you do after months of preparation.”
“That ship has sailed, Audrey. I can’t turn it around.”
“You can always turn it around.”
If she knew one of the reasons I couldn’t, she’d be even more disappointed. “I’m not going to.”
“Then you need to activate your fighter.”
This was her way of saying no, she didn’t think I could do this, which scared me. If my sister didn’t think it would work, maybe it wouldn’t. She knew business. “I’m trying.”
“If you need any advice, help, I’m here.”
Considering she’d been avoiding my calls for days, I didn’t feel like that was true. But I wanted it to be. I needed it to be. “I watched your channel three times this week to see what was going on with you.”
“My channel isn’t my real life.”
That was the first time she’d ever admitted her channel was highly curated. “I know. I just wanted to see you.”
There was some mumbling in the background that sounded suspiciously like my mom.
“Would you like to come for dinner next Sunday?” Audrey asked. “We’re barbecuing.”
I swallowed hard, sure Mom had made her ask.
But at the same time, I hadn’t seen my family since the T-ball game several weeks ago and I missed them.
“Yes, I would love to come. Can I bring something? A side dish?” My bank account was dwindling and my credit card was rising and the other half of my rent was due in a week.
I shouldn’t be offering to buy food for the barbecue, but I already felt like I’d let my sister down.
I wanted her to know I could contribute.
“No, that’s okay,” Audrey said.
“Come on, Audrey. Let me bring something.”
“I’ll look over my list and send you a text with what you can bring.”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, see you next Sunday at four. Bring your suit if you want to swim. The boys would love that.”
“Then I will for sure. See you then.” And because I couldn’t contain my snark I added, “Tell Mom I say hi.”
I could practically see the eye roll she probably gave our mom in that moment. “Maggie says hi.”
“Hi!” Mom called from the background.
I tugged on a loose string on the arm of the couch. “Audrey, if you don’t want me to come to the barbecue, if I’m too much chaos right now for you—”
“No,” she interrupted. “I do. I want you to come.”
There was a knock on my door. Oliver.
“Do you have company?” Audrey asked.
“Just a friend.”
“You’re starting a relationship in the middle of all this?”
“I said ‘a friend.’”
“It was the way you said ‘friend.’”
I had no idea how I had said it, but she obviously knew me better than anyone. That’s why her not believing I could start my own business was hard to hear. “We’re taking it slow.”
“Not a good idea.”
“I shouldn’t take it slow?”
“You know what I mean. You shouldn’t be starting anything new right now. You need to focus.”
“Thanks, Audrey,” I said, holding back a sigh. “I’ll take that into account.”
“Good,” she said.
We hung up and I answered the door. Oliver stood there wearing a gray hoodie, jeans, and a pair of black Vans. He held his laptop under one arm. It was bright outside. I squinted up at him, my heart picking up speed.
“Hi.” His eyes were soft and warm and looked like they were happy to see me. “You’re annoyed. You were expecting me, right?”
“Yes, sorry, come in. This is a leftover annoyed face from the phone call I just finished.” I took a step back and opened the door wider.
He walked inside, bringing his Oliver scent with him. I couldn’t decide if his scent made him fifty percent more attractive or if that was giving it too much credit.
I shut and locked the door. I wanted to hug him, I needed a hug, but we’d just recommitted to starving ourselves of physical affection so I kept my hands to myself.
He held up his laptop. “Where do you want to do this? Here?” He pointed to the couch that I had obviously just abandoned.
My butt print was still on the cushion and everything.
Or maybe it was my laptop and empty coffee cup on the table that tipped him off.
Or the contract Rob had sent the night before spread across the coffee table, the pages crinkled from my intense study.
I hadn’t found any new info. It was everything Sloane had claimed it to be the night before.
“Yes, have a seat,” I said. “Thanks for bringing it to me. You didn’t have to.”
“I’m pretty close, remember?”
“Oh yes, did you need to borrow my toilet?”
He gave me his wide smile and perched himself on the edge of the couch. He placed his laptop next to mine while I gathered and stacked the contract pages, attempting to tidy up the space.
“The infamous contract?” he asked.
“When I was twenty-three, signing this thing, I was pretty na?ve. I thought this was the first step into the future. I didn’t realize it would later become something else holding me back.”
“Is it predatory?” he asked in a voice that seemed to say, Give me one reason to fight Rob and I’m there.
“No, it’s pretty standard. I understand why everything is in here. I just wish it wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry.” He opened his computer and began typing.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Something stronger?”
“I’m good, thank you.”
“Okay.”
He had sat on the middle cushion of the couch, which made me smile because that meant I had to sit right next to him. And I did. As close as humanly possible without touching.
The muscle in his jaw jumped. He had a nice jaw. It had several days’ worth of scruff on it, a look I was fond of. He pulled it off very well. It emphasized the sharp lines of his face even more.
“Can I get your Wi-Fi info?”
“What?” I asked. “I was distracted because you look really good today.”
“Just today?” he asked, with a head tilt.
I shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve noticed.”
He laughed. “The Wi-Fi.”
“Right.” I gestured toward the keyboard and he turned it to face me. I typed in the required password and then leaned back as the Wi-Fi thought hard about connecting.
His phone, which he had set on the coffee table, buzzed with an incoming call. Without meaning to, I looked at the screen. Sophie.
I swallowed as a tightness gripped my throat, but he ignored the call and his phone went still.
“You can get it,” I said, when it buzzed to life again.
“Just let me make sure…” He cringed but stood and walked to the opposite side of the room while swiping to answer. “Hello.”
His back was to me and he absentmindedly studied the bookcase full of knickknacks and random things Sloane and I had collected over the years as he listened to whatever the woman on the other end was saying. He picked up a Velma figurine and turned it toward me with a questioning eyebrow raise.
“It’s a classy decoration,” I said, and he smiled and put it back.
“Soph, it’s fine. Mom doesn’t hold it against you,” he spoke into the phone. “She understands.”
My wave of unwanted jealousy from before evaporated.
“Of course I understand. Don’t worry about me.” He let out the most affectionate low chuckle. “Yes, I will ditch her on her birthday next year to make you feel better.” A pause. “You’re welcome. I have to go… None of your business… No. Bye.” He hung up the phone and came to sit back down.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“My sister is feeling bad about missing a birthday dinner in a couple days.”
“Does she live close?”
“Relatively. About seven hours north. She has a lot of guilt that I am burdened with Mom. It’s not a burden, though, and my sister spent lots of time looking after my mom when I was in college.”
“You’re a good son,” I said.
“I’m an average son.”
“And you are apparently a terrible judge of character. Look at all these things I’m learning about you.”
He shook his head with a smile and turned his attention back to his laptop.
My phone buzzed in my hand. “Speaking of sisters.” I turned the phone to face him.
“Fruit tray?” he asked.
“She’s having a barbecue next weekend and I’ve been granted the opportunity to bring the fruit tray.” My voice was laced with sarcasm.
“I take it things aren’t… better between you two yet?”
“Not really. I mean, I told her that I lied and what really happened and we talked it out but she’s still irritated. It’s going to take her a minute to get over it.”
My phone was still facing him when his expression went slack.