“I hate it when that happens.” Where was Olivia? I needed to extract myself from this conversation.
“To get out of the marriage would totally ruffle some shamrocks, you know what I mean?” Frannie asked.
“I’m not a big romance novel reader.”
“But put yourself in their shoes.” Sylvie rested a hand on my forearm. “Because when people started to doubt the validity of their marriage, Willa and Max improved the optics.”
I didn’t want to hang fake cobwebs anymore. I wanted to go back home to the safety of my office, fire up a game, and shoot some things. “What are you saying?”
“Like more dates, public kissing, tush grabs,” Frannie answered. “Would you like for me to demonstrate?”
“No.” Lord, no. “That won’t be necessary.”
Frannie shrugged. “I’m a taken woman, but some tutorial role-play could be useful. For the sake of education.”
“I think I’m following.” Apparently Olivia and I needed to up our game.
“Do you truly get it?” Sylvie asked.
“Yes.” I caught sight of Olivia across the room, laughing at something Rosie said. I’d grown to love seeing these moments where she was happy. “And if I ever find myself in a situation in which I personally need this advice, I’ll know who to call.”
“For convenience, I have a few different numbers,” Frannie hollered as I walked in the direction of Olivia. “Some burner phones! I’m very easy to reach!”
Olivia put down a garland of witch’s hats as I approached. “You look like you’re on a mission.”
“I think it’s time we updated my social media.”
“Okay.” She frowned. “We can do that when we get home.”
“I was thinking now.” I handed my phone to Rosie. “Would you mind taking our picture?”
She grinned, already enjoying the task. “Just tell me when.”
I stepped into Olivia, took her surprised face in my hands, then pressed my mouth to hers. “I think now is just about right.”
ChapterThirty-Five
LACHLAN
New York City never slept,and it seemed neither did I.
Last night I’d been so stressed about my television interview, I’d stayed up until three a.m. tweaking a new game idea. The last thing we needed was another game right now, but my other option had been to wake up Olivia and pour out my soul until I felt better. I’d decided that was a terrible notion, but man, I’d wanted to. I’d wanted to tell her how nervous I was for thisGood Morning Americainterview and how worried I was about screwing up. Even more, I wanted Olivia to be proud. I wanted her to see me do it right. To see her eyes light up and her smile—not that professional smile, but the real one she only broke out for special occasions. I wanted to be worthy of her approval. Actually, I wanted to be worthy of a whole lot more.
And that was a problem.
Historically speaking, people in my life didn’t stick around, and I had to remember, had to brand it on my brain, that Olivia was only passing through.
The woman I couldn’t get off my mind sat beside me on the chartered plane and gave my hand a squeeze when we came to a stop. “We’re here. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I clasped her fingers, feeling a measure of comfort as her skin pressed against mine. We had indeed upped our public affection output, and I wasn’t sure how the press liked it, but I sure did.
Almost two hours later, we sat in the greenroom, ignoring all the snacks I wanted but Olivia forbade me from eating. Something about dairy jacking up the vocal clarity and other tips I barely heard. I personally thought a glazed donut could super charge my speaking skills.
A production assistant stuck his head in the doorway. “Ready in five, Mr. Hayes.”
“Lachlan.” Olivia turned toward me. “Take some deep breaths like I showed you.”
I complied, eyeing the cheese tray on the table beside us. “Let’s just get this over with.” We’d do a quick lunch afterward, then fly back home. I missed Sugar Creek already.
