“I got pictures,” Rhys says to me.
“Youdidn’t.” I didn’t think he was anywhere near the laundry room.
He grins, and my heart melts a little more. “Video too. I was stealthy. You never knew I was there.”
“I’ll send you proof,” I tell Daphne. “But you can’t share it. Not even with Bea.”
“Ever or yet?”
“Yet.”
“How much longer will you be?”
I cringe.
The right answer is I’ll be home next week.
I shouldn’t keep dragging this out with Lucky, Decker, and Jack.
I need to tell them who I am and what I want.
The timing’s right, even if I’m lying to myself about wanting to see Oliver’s family’s company’s shareholder meeting go the right way next week first.
My father’s been buying shares of Miles2Go in a bid for a hostile takeover—he’s always wanted to expand beyond hotels, therefore Oliver was an approved option of a boyfriend for me—and Oliver’s about to distribute his quarter of the company’s total shares to franchise owners after his choice of new CEO is approved by shareholders early next week.
There’s no telling if the franchise owners will hold on to their new shares or sell them, which could put my father in a position to buy more, so I’ve convinced Oliver to wait a few weeks so thatI can do what I need to do to ruin my father’s reputation and make him undesirable for any other company he might want to take over too.
And make him not want to put himself in a public position about it either.
Which means next week is when I need to act.
Next week is when I need to tell the triplets who I am and what I want. Ask for their help and keep the ball rolling on my plans.
But I don’t want to.
I want to have more time with them where they see me as a normal person with normal stresses and normal needs. When they don’t think I’m pressuring them to tell their parents what they know.
I’ve been contemplating how I can accomplish my goal of showing my father and the board that the triplets exist while simultaneously keeping them out of the public eye if this works the way I want it to.
And I think I’ve figured out the best way to play this for everyone’s advantage.
If they’ll agree to it.
“Three weeks,” I say to Daphne. “I’ll be three more weeks.”
“Because you need that long, or because you want that long?” she asks softly.
My eyes get hot. “Both.”
I’m lying.
I don’t need this long.
But between the fun with the triplets and getting to know Rhys—yeah.
I want longer.
I swallow hard. “Oliver?”
