Forever Curves - Piper Sullivan Page 0,68
for a count of twenty. “Because Oliver March is encouraging men to give into their worst, commitment-phobic instincts. That is bad for our business. And while it’s great to help people find the love of their lives, it’s also nice to, I don’t know, make money.”
Sophie pursed her lips, a sign she was keeping her opinion to herself. “Okay, that is a concern. But until it actually affects our bottom line, let’s let bygones be bygones and all that ok?”
I nodded. “Agreed. Monday morning meeting?”
Sophie nodded to Olive, who stacked her papers until they were all in a straight line from all angles. She smoothed down her shoulder-length black hair and flashed an uneasy smile. “I have a full etiquette class signed up for this evening, which is good news. But I need to practice.” She was notoriously shy, but starting Time For Love Matchmaking Agency had been good for her and her confidence.
“You can practice on me after the meeting.” I hoped that the more confident she became professionally, it would spill over to her personal life and that jerk Winslow Thorpe would be nothing but a bad memory.
“Thanks. I also have had a few inquiries about date night styling. Apparently, it’s a service people want.”
Sophie nodded. “Let’s see what an acceptable rate for that kind of thing would be. If you have the time, more revenue streams are better than less.”
“Agreed,” she said softly. “That’s it from my end.”
Sophie was the CEO of the company and took care of securing new clients, running the business, and pretty much anything else we needed to make this work. “I think we should offer to sponsor the Pilgrim Police Department’s kickball team this year.” Pilgrim wasn’t your average town, and it definitely wasn’t your average Texas town. Instead of baseball or softball, our civic workers battled it out on the kickball field. “It’s good exposure for us, and shows we’re all about community spirit.”
“I’m on board, as long as it doesn’t cost too much.” Time For Love had been in the black for the past six months—an incredible feat after almost two years in business, but we’d found our foothold. I didn’t want to give it up by stretching ourselves too thin.
Sophie named a figure that was reasonable. “We’ll need to get T-shirts made up for them, so I’ll take care of that,” she said, adding it to her ever-growing to-do list. “Anything else?”
“Yes, actually. I have an interview lined up for us on Shea O’Malley’s radio show.”
“Rush Hour Romance? I am truly impressed, Eva.”
I shrugged with a satisfied smile. “Well, I am damn good at my job.”
“No arguments here. Now, if we could only do something about your Oliver obsession.”
“Not an obsession, just an observation on the enemy. We need to know how single men are thinking if we want to help our clients the best we can. Oliver is their clueless but fearless leader.”
“Then why are you so mad?” Olive’s quiet voice was the only reason I tempered the glare I sent her way.
“I already told you. He’s bad for business, but if you two feel I’m overreacting, then I’ll cool it. Promise.” I sat back in my chair and folded one hand on top of the other, in a way that would make my Aunt Elizabeth proud. “I won’t let Oliver March piss me off.”
“But you will let him goad you into talking like a sailor?”
I laughed at Sophie’s question. “You can take the girl away from the Worthingtons, but you can’t take the Worthington out of the girl.” Even though she was from an influential family, Sophie had bucked family tradition by leaving home at eighteen to make it on her own. It had taken some time without the help of her trust fund, but Sophie had found her own success.
To prove me wrong, she stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes. “I am them, but more importantly, they are me. Whether they like it or not.” There was that defiant tilt to her chin that I’d come to appreciate over our friendship. “And, with those wise words, the Monday morning meeting is adjourned.”
Thank goodness! I wasn’t sure I had the mental capacity to stay focused while I spent so much energy trying to forget Oliver March’s sexist words and his disgusting point of view. “Give me thirty minutes to catch up on emails and I’ll be ready for you, Olive.”
She nodded, leaving me alone with Sophie, who wore a look that said she wanted to