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I watched as he folded the paper and tucked it into his desk. “Matthew is having his girlfriend take care of Blackie,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.
“Since when does he have a girlfriend?” Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Two weeks ago. He said he’s not interested in getting tied down. Oh, and Finley is asking Sadie to marry him tomorrow night.”
“Really?” Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise.
“He better hurry because now that I know, I can’t keep this from her,” I said with a laugh.
“You’d better, or Finley will have a fit.”
“He never even told me! I could’ve helped him pick out a ring. Sadie’s been my best friend for five years,” I ranted.
“Maybe he was afraid you’d spill the beans.”
“I can keep a secret, especially one as big as this. I guess I’ll see the ring when we go out to lunch on Saturday.”
“I asked for a private room,” Oliver said, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Why? I want to enjoy the buffet,” I protested.
“We can still enjoy the buffet, but we’ll be sitting in a private room.”
“I want to sit with everyone else,” I insisted, crossing my arms.
“Stop being difficult. The room is very comfortable, and we’ll have our own private wait staff for drinks. I want to order a bottle of champagne for your brother and Sadie. Maybe we should get them a cake to celebrate.”
“That would be nice. I’m sure they’d appreciate the sentiment.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Oliver said, his voice gentle.
“Sadie’s favorite color is green,” I added.
“For the cake?”
“Yes, and she loves chocolate.”
“Okay, green and chocolate. Got it,” he said, scribbling the notes on a scrap of paper.
I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. “Thanks, Oliver. You’re the best.”
And he was. Not only did he take my feelings into account but those around me. He was accommodating and sweet. I never thought I would find someone like him or that someone like him even existed.
Chapter 9
Friday afternoon, Oliver ducked into my office, his long navy-blue coat buttoned up and gloves on. He looked every bit the dashing figure against the backdrop of my cluttered desk.
“Where are you going?” I asked, my fingers still poised over the keyboard.
“You mean where are we going,” he corrected.
“I’m not finished entering this data.”
“Your boss will forgive you. Get your coat.”
I stopped typing to look up at him. I hated when he kept me in the dark but I was getting used to being the fiancée of Oliver Fox.
“Oliver, just tell me where you’re taking me,” I said, trying to keep my curiosity in check.
