I grabbed my phone and started entering in the familiar website.
"Google Trench Wood Cabins," I told her.
"My friends and I have been there a few times for guy trips. It's in Hayers County, about a fifty-minute drive from Helensville. They have these awesome cabins that they rent out there. Some are basic, some luxury."
"Oooh, I like the sound of the Decker Cabin," Sofia exclaimed as she scrolled through the website. "It sleeps eight. It has two bedrooms and a loft with more beds."
"We've rented that one before. It's awesome. Not too spacious, so it doesn't feel like you're separated from everyone. It's cozy. They have a fire pit, walking trails nearby, and one that leads to a pretty sweet waterfall."
"This is awesome, Simon," she flashed me a pleased smile that made my stomach flutter. Hearing my name on her lips - without it sounding like a condemnation - did weird things to me. I felt like puffing my chest out in pride. As if I hunted for her and laid my prize at her feet.
"The price is pretty good, too. So I reckon the wedding party pays for it? Could be our present to the newlyweds?"
"Yep, good idea," she agreed.
I scrolled through the website's availability calendar. "Looks like they have a few dates free over July. August is looking tight. How are you for availability?"
"If it's during school break, I'm good on any weekend. Otherwise, I can take a Friday and Monday off with notice. I'll message the gang with a few dates and see which suits."
The gang. I felt a pang of exclusion at the term she used to describe her friend group. I wanted to be part of their gang.
"How 'bout you? What dates suit you?"
"Meh. I'm easy," I shrugged. I was a senior advisor at my firm and rarely took vacation leave. I also worked long hours during our busy season and wasn't afraid of working weekends if needed. I was fairly confident they would accommodate me.
"What is it that you do for a living? I don't think I know."
I gave her a faint smile as I placed my phone down. "I'm a financial advisor."
"Oh. Cool."
She went back to scrolling through her phone.
I frowned. I wanted to know everything about Sofia. It irked me that she didn't feel the same. "I know, it sounds boring."
"Hmm. I've seen the Bernie Madoff doco. I get what it's about."
My blood cooled at her insinuation. Okay, yes, so it wasn't the most exciting-sounding job in the world, and I could understand that most people would think I dealt with wealthy, stuck-up clients. But I took my job seriously. I took my clients and their money seriously. I knew each one and their life stories, from the farmer whose land had been in the family for generations and who wanted to maintain investment assets for his grandkids to the salt-of-the-earth elderly couple who relied on me to keep them updated on their retirement projection.
"I'm nothing like Bernie Maddof." My stern tone caused Sofia to snap her head up.
"For one, I actually care about my clients and their money. I would never rip people off or act nefarious with their money."
Sofia's mouth dropped, and her cheeks reddened. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to insinuate that."
I gave her a long look.
"Okay, maybe I did," she admitted. "But it was a joke. A poor one, I'll admit." She placed her soft hand on my arm. Tingles shot up my spine at the casual touch, and I had to shift a little to starve off the sensation. "I'm sorry."
My temper cooled at her genuine apology, giving way to shame at my knee-jerk reaction.
I had insulted Sofia's job and had given her a piss-poor apology. And here she was - peering up at me with soft, remorseful eyes, waiting for me to give her concession. What a douche.
"Sorry," I ran my fingers through my hair. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. Especially after I insulted your career."
"But that doesn't give me a free pass to imply that you were stealing from your clients."
God, she was gorgeous. Her face was open and sincere. I wished I had the right to lean down and devour her full, red lips.
