Page 7 of The Plus One Professional
I never imagined that my infamous divorce attorney and relationship-resistant, blissfully child-free bestie Olivia Bradshaw would hang up her law degree and refuse a partnership at her firm to run a matchmaking business owned by her husband while pregnant with twins, but honestly, I’d never seen her happier.
“We are the best in the game.” Trevor Harrison, who had been her assistant in the law firm and was now her business partner in Ever After Matchmaking, lifted his flute of champagne and clinked it with my imaginary glass and Olivia’s actual glass. He took a sip, then asked, “When are you going to let us setyouup?”
Trevor and Olivia had been campaigning for me to use their services since they’d taken over the reins of Ever After. But I might not need to be set up if my conversation with Simon went the way I was hoping it would. I knew that it was naïve of me to think that after all these years, he was finally going to commit, to tell me that I was the one, that I’d always been the one, that he was madly in love with me, and that he wanted to marry me and be the father of my babies, but the hopeless romantic in me was also wildly optimistic.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Trevor’s gaze ping-ponged between us. “What am I missing?”
“He’s back,” Olivia stated with as much resigned trepidation as Carol Ann inPoltergeist 2.
“Who’s back?” Trevor directed the question to both of us.
“Simon Beaumont Matthew Prescott, IV,” Olivia said his name with the same disdain one would use when speaking of scum on the bottom of their shoe.
“He sounds fancy.” Trevor grinned.
“Not fancy, pretentious,” Olivia corrected.
Trevor and Olivia had known one another for more than a decade, but I’d only grown close to him in the past year or so since they took over the matchmaking firm. In that time, Simon hadn’t been in the picture, so the Simon subject hadn’t come up.
“Okay, give me his rap sheet,” he demanded as he took another sip of champagne.
“Rap sheet?” I repeated.
“Yes, the record of crimes he’s committed against you.”
“He’s been stringing Bailey along since we were fourteen,” Olivia offered.
Trevor’s teeth clenched as he sucked air through them, making a hissing sound. “Fourteen? That’s a long time.”
“He doesn’t string me alo?—”.
“Stop.” Olivia cut me off. “He is the Gaslight King. He gives you just enough to keep you wanting more, but not enough to actually have any real responsibility to you.”
“He’s afriend.” I defended him from muscle memory. It wasn’t even a conscious thought. I did it automatically.
Olivia’s phone rang, and from the look on her face, I knew exactly who it was. Her husband, Ben. He played in the NFL and was away at training camp.
“I’m going to go take this.” She headed out to the hallway with a twitterpated smile on her face.
Trevor tilted his glass toward me. “Okay, so…”
“So…what?”
“So tell me everything about thisfriendof yours, Simon Something Something Prescott the IV.”
“Beaumont Matthew,” I smiled as I filled in the something somethings.
“Oh, lord. It’s worse than I thought.”
“What is?”
“That silly grin on your face at the mere mention of the man’s name. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He shook his head as he tsked me.
“It’s not…” I shook my head, then launched into the Cliff Notes version of our relationship-turned-situationship. “I met him the summer before both his senior year and my freshman year of high school. After he graduated, he went abroad and…I guess we broke up.”
“Youguessyou broke up?”
