“Don’t even think about looking for a job. You can do this. I’ll set you up with my tax guy.”
I raise an eyebrow. “By set me up, do you mean…?”
“Business only, Priss. You know I’m still rooting for you and Oliver. Besides, Clayton isn’t your type.”
“How do you know what my type is?”
“You told me you were obsessed with Oliver. That’s all I need to know.”
I cringe, hating the reminder. “I was drunk when I said that. It doesn’t count.”
“Doesn’t matter. Clayton isn’t anyone’s type. He’s a little bit quirky. And Oliver… well, he’s everyone’s type. If I hadn’t met Ryan first?—”
“Jesus, Tina. You can’t talk like that when you’re planning to propose to the guy.”
She laughs. “I’m kidding. Calm down.” She stuffs a forkful of food in her mouth, and as she chews, she says, “No need to get jealous.”
I pick up a piece of rice from my plate and throw it at her.
* * *
I sit inside my car, trying to gain the courage to go up to Oliver’s front door. I’m only slightly reassured by the idea that this will be easier than facing my parents. I hope.
I’ve only been here once before, and it was several months ago when Tina talked me into driving Oliver home after he drank too much. He’s one of the rare people who gets less annoying when he’s drunk—mostly because he just sat there in silence the whole ride. Somehow I still remember where he lives, and I manage to get here without needing directions. I know that he’s home because his truck is parked in the driveway.
His front door swings open while I watch. He steps out with a garbage bag in one hand. I think about getting out, but I hesitate. He might think it’s weird that I remember where he lives. I watch as he walks around the corner of his house to toss the bag into the outside bin. When he turns around, he looks in my direction. I duck down, then curse myself for acting so stupid. I stay down because at this point, I’m committed to hiding. I hold my breath, listening for the sound of his front door closing. Maybe it’s not too late to sit back up and pretend I was just looking for something on the floor. Surely he saw me. I stay down anyway, my heart drumming like I’m a thief who’s about to get caught with my hand in someone’s jewelry box.
A few seconds go by. There’s a tap on my window. I straighten up, forcing myself to face him. I roll down the window, trying my best to play it cool even though my heart is pounding and I’m starting to sweat. “What’s up?”
He fights a smile. “Are you stalking me? Or did you just get lost on your way home again?”
I roll my eyes. “I think even the most unhinged woman is too smart to stalk someone like you.”
He takes a step back as I open my door. “I’m glad to see you’re acknowledging how unhinged you are.”
“What?” I stammer. “I don’t… that’s not what I meant.”
“Okay,” he says, dragging out the word. “What are you doing here then?”
“We need to talk about Ryan.”
“Right. And you’re not unhinged,” he says under his breath. Then, more clearly: “Look, I get that you’re excited for Tina, but I already said too much. Can’t you just pretend like you don’t know?”
“It’s not that simple.”
He sighs. “Why not? You’ve never been the type of person to meddle in other people’s business. Why start now?”
“I’m an event planner,” I say with a forced smile. “My entire business revolves around meddling.”
“Right,” he says with a smirk. “Tell me what event you’re planning for Tina, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
I tighten my lips, thinking about it. I can’t break Tina’s trust, but I also need her proposal to go smoothly. Oliver crosses his arms over his chest, watching me. When I take more than a few seconds, he raises an eyebrow.
“It’s a little cold out here,” he says. “Want to think about it inside?”
My gaze darts to his front door. My eyes go wide without meaning to. “Inside your house?” I ask dumbly.
He frowns. “It’s not haunted.”
