Page 62 of Made Better Together

Five minutes later, we’re on the phone, and I get him up to speed.

“Oh yeah, my lawyer should review it. He’ll be pretty fast.”

“Perfect, thanks, Dad.”

“You know, I’m glad you’re hiring someone to help. Your mom called me after she visited, worried about all the things you’re trying to handle.”

“Oh, really? I’ll be okay…”

“She actually thought something might be going on between you and Connor.”

Yikes. Not going there with Dad. “No…no, there isn’t.”

“You’re an adult, and I totally trust you. Your mom too, so it doesn’t seem like I’m throwing her under the bus.” I wait for the but…and then it comes. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to us, but maybe…”

I can read between the lines. They don’t want me to have to deal with something like when Mom got pregnant with me. Before this gets any more awkward, let me shut this concern down.

“Don’t worry, Dad. Nothing’s happening with Connor. Or anyone right now.”

“Okay, good.”

Little does Dad know he’s hammering a nail in an already-sealed coffin, or whatever the saying is. Which is reinforced by the official tones of the emails between Milo, Connor, and me the rest of the week, once Dad’s lawyer gives his thumbs-up.

When Bree and I go to Eclypse on Thursday, she ends up talking with some giant redhead who’s in town for a game, but I gently blow off his friends trying to chat me up.

Instead, after throwing a wink in her direction, I dance alone to the beat of the club music a few feet away, happy to escape my overstuffed brain for the night.

17

CONNOR

ONE WEEK LATER

“Today I’ll conduct our intake process, and ask you a million questions,” Grace says, tossing her hair. “All normal for our initial meetings with new clients.”

It’s been a week since Eden signed the engagement agreement, and with her game on Thursday as usual, we booked this initial meeting for the following Friday. Milo’s out of town for a few days, so Grace stepped in.

It’s been a shitty week. I keep wanting to text Eden and check in, like we did during my time in LA, but now that wouldn’t be appropriate—or, more specifically, it’d be too hard to keep boundaries. For me at least.

Maybe not for her. She has an unreadable look on her face across the table.

That doesn’t detract from her appeal, though. She’s clipped part of her hair back, which means I can see those beautiful features even more clearly. When her eyes pin themselves on me, I look down before she catches me staring.

“That’s fine. Bring them on.” Her tone is relaxed.

If she’s calm about this, you need to be cool.

My sister, oblivious, keeps the meeting moving. “Great. The first thing to review is this spreadsheet. We’ve detailed out all of your existing deals and the various terms. Can you make sure it’s correct?”

“Absolutely.” She picks up the paper that Grace hands her, and they go back and forth on each arrangement she has, making sure it’s accurate.

I zone out and watch her interact with Grace. For eight minutes.

Her reflexive smile when Grace gives her compliments.

The way she tucks her hair behind her ear every time she finishes responding.

The tug of her Tolliver tee on her tits as she adjusts her body in her seat.