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I feel Olive tense under my arm.
“I’m the lucky one,” I say, looking down at Olive. “She’s an amazing cuddler. But the spooning is my favorite.”
Aaron makes a strange sound—almost like a cat dying. I honestly didn’t think this would be so fun.
“Well,” he says on a swallow. “If you change your mind, you know how to get there. I’m having it catered.”
“Oooh, catered,” I say. “That might be a game changer for us.”
“Wow, definitely,” says Olive. “You should have led with that, Aaron. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”
“Ohhh-kay,” he says tentatively, scooting toward the door. “I… will see you around.”
He hustles away while Olive and I wave.
“Have fun storming the castle,” she says, even though he’s out of earshot. I could kiss her right now.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I know how it feels to see an ex after a nasty breakup. I want her to know I’m here for her. Fake boyfriend or not.
She takes in a breath. “Actually, I’m great.”
“That’s good to hear,” I say. “You were amazing, by the way.”
She nudges me. “You weren’t so bad yourself. Ahab? I’m dying.”
“I had to do something after that terrible olive branch pun.”
“And did you see his face when you said we were going to go make out? You were so serious and he was so… ehhhh.”
She makes a stone face with her tongue sticking out. She’s knitting a cute little sock for my heart and holding it in her sweet hands. I don’t know how to live with that.
“Olive, I need to talk to you.”
Her laughter dies down. I hate that I have to dampen her joy, but dealing with Pancho Two is a time sensitive matter.
“You’re fake breaking up with me,” she says, a shadow casting over her features.
“No!” I take hold of her shoulders. “I’m not… fake breaking up with you.”
“Whew. Because it’s fine if you are, but I need a little warning. That’s all.”
“I promise, when it’s time to end this charade, it will be mutual. I think we’re both benefiting from it right now.”
“You can say that again.”
I give her a hug because apparently I’m a hugger now—and I think she needs one. Once I’m enfolded in her embrace, I discover I need one, too.
“It’s about that man who came into the restaurant earlier. Big belly. Bad comb-over.”
She nods. “I remember. He introduced himself as Francisco Ortega, all friendly in a grooming sort of way.”
So she does have a creep-o-meter. Bernadette will be glad of it.
“And then I remember something you said my first day here. You asked me what I know about Francisco Ortega. Suddenly, red lights started to go off in my head. But I kept my cool. Bernadette wasn’t at all thrilled to see him, though.”
“He’s not a good guy, Olive.”
“Yeah, I kind of gathered that.”
