“I can just call a cab.”
I shake my head, not liking the thought of her riding with a complete stranger. “No, you’ll take my car.”
Her eyes widen at my vehemence, but she nods her agreement. “Thanks. Your car definitely smells better than the back of a cab.”
I chuckle at her lighthearted banter. Olive never lets things get too far before she tries to lighten the mood. I like that about her. Hell, I like everything about her. I text my driver and then walk her down to the street where my driver is waiting.
“Does he just sit around waiting for you to need him?” Olive asks.
I laugh. “He gets paid very well for sitting around waiting for me to need him.”
Carl opens the door for Olive, and she slides onto the plush leather seat. I lean in and kiss her softly. “Text me when you get home.”
“Okay,” she grins.
Carl gives me a knowing look, and I scowl at him. “Make sure she gets upstairs safely.”
He touches his forehead as if he’s saluting me, then climbs behind the wheel. In moments he’s pulling out into traffic, taking my Olive away from me. My heart feels tight in my chest as I watch her go. I run my hand over my chest and think about the implications of feeling so much for her.
I come to the conclusion that I’ve lost my mind… though I’m not sure I want to find it at this point.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
OLIVE
Last night was…phenomenal. Harrison was amazingly sweet and attentive. In the moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to take my virginity, but today I can appreciate the fact that he held back. It’s not that I’m not ready… more that things are already moving extremely fast with us, and taking it that one step farther is just going to get me in deeper than I already am.
I like Harrison.
I mean, I really, really like the man. Yeah, he’s arrogant and obviously likes things his way. Sure, he can be sort of cold and distant at times, but he’s also sweet and funny and just about everything I would pick in a man if I could.
That thought is sobering because I’m unsure how I should feel about that. I have horrible taste in men. That’s why I went to Rita for professional help. Yes, she seemed to be encouraging me to see what happens with Harrison, but at the same time, she gave my letter to the man she matched me up with. What do I do with that?
Speaking of… the letter from him sits on my coffee table mocking me. Making me feel both guilty and curious. After several hours of debating, I open the letter and take a deep breath before reading.
Dear Olive,
I read the letter twice and can’t help but compare my match to Harrison even though that’s not fair. But how can I not when this man has so much in common with Harrison? They both own their own businesses and like to be in charge. They both like blue—something I found out last night during dinner—they both like old movies… it’s uncanny how alike the two are. It makes me wonder if maybe Harrison and I have a real shot.
I suck at finding men, but if Rita found me someone who is just like the man I’m starting to seriously fall for… do I even need a match?
Ugh. Why do I have to be so confused about this situation? I should just write my match back and tell him I can’t do this that I’ve found someone else.
It only takes me another minute of thought to decide that that’s the right course of action. It’s not fair to anyone to drag this whole thing out. It really isn’t.
Dear Thomas
I am sorry to do this, but…
I start, then my pen stops on the page, unable to go on. What if Harrison breaks things off? He’s made it clear that I deserve better—especially last night—what if that’s a warning sign? What if I write my match a goodbye letter only to be dumped?
I crumple up the paper and start again.
Dear Thomas,
I also enjoy old movies. I also like the old Universal monster ones best. I bet that surprises you. Most women like the old love stories, but those are rather tedious for me. Give me a horror movie any day of the week over romance. Which is funny if you think about it because I write romance books for a living—I don’t think I told you that before. Anyway, you would think someone who spends their days living and breathing fictional romance that I would gravitate towards that in film, but it’s just the opposite for me.
