“I can’t decide if I liked you better then or now,” he says, amused.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He smirks. “I just mean that you’re a different guy since Airport Girl came to town.”
“Blaire,” I say, emphasizing her name, “will be leaving soon. So no worries.”
Even I can hear the irritation in my voice at having to say that.
Oliver nods, obviously enjoying my predicament.
“She’s leaving, huh?” he asks.
“Didn’t I just say that?”
“You did. I was just repeating it.”
I make a show of sighing. I don’t know why. He’s not going to let this go.
He rocks his chair back on two legs and grins. “No. I definitely like you better now.”
“I don’t really want to do this with ya, Ollie.”
“Yeah. I bet you don’t.” He laughs. “And it’s for all the reasons I like you better.”
I get up from the table by the window and head to my desk. His eyes are trained on my back. I can feel them boring into me.
Whatever he’s talking about, I don’t want to hear. It’s probably just a button he thinks he can push and get a few minutes of amusement at my expense.
“I’m not a fucking monkey here for your entertainment, you know,” I say, sitting in my chair.
He laughs. “Nope. You’re a mortal like the rest of us.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I try to wait him out in hopes he’ll give up and leave.
He doesn’t.
“If today was last week, you would’ve already figured out thisLandry shit,” he says. “I would’ve been sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, wondering what I’m supposed to do since you do everything.”
“Are you admitting you’re lazy?”
“Ha.”
I look at him and wink. Oliver is the farthest thing from lazy, and we all know it. We also know that I’m ignoring where he’s going with this.
He taps the end of his pen against the table. “I’m just saying that it’s nice to see you doing something other than work for once.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still working, and I will until I get it all figured out.”
He smiles smugly. “Which thing? Blaire or the project?”
I’m about to tell him that he’s walking a fine line and better watch his step when the door opens. The room fills with the scent of lilies as our mother waltzes in the room.
Sigourney Mason has the grace of a ballerina and the smile of a queen. My father said he was scared of her the first time he met her. She was so beautiful and quietly powerful that he never dreamed a girl like Siggy would talk to a man like him.
Her eyes light up as she takes in Oliver and me.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you both this morning,” she says. “What a treat!”
