Love Like Her (Against All Odds #3) - Claudia Y. Burgoa Page 0,59

since I moved to Denver, she’s been trying to set me up with her friends, neighbors, or her husband’s friends. I don’t want to be with just anyone. I’m not ready to find the man of my dreams. “I’m over men and Eros Brassard—or is it Brown?”

Holly turns around and speeds up toward her office. “Did you say his name was Eros?”

“Yes,” I repeat, catching up with her. “I thought his last name was Brassard. He lied about it too.”

“Fucking asshole!” The thunk sound on her desk makes me jolt.

When I enter her office, she’s staring at the screen of her computer. “His name is Taylor Brown.”

I shake my head, walk around the desk, and read the information. It reads Misty Wilfred and Taylor Brown. “This is wrong. I had no idea what to call him. He reminded me that his name is Eros. His fiancée didn’t correct him.”

I wrack my brain trying to remember if I ever heard him mention the last name Brown—or the name Taylor.

“Something doesn’t add up,” she states, taking back the folder and dialing the phone. “The number they gave us goes to a sandwich place.”

“Didn’t we call to remind them about this meeting?”

She shakes her head. “No. She called yesterday to set up the meeting. I remember because Debbie and I were on our way out. She called me on my phone. You were at the Silas event.”

“We never give a last-minute appointment. Can you check the caller ID for her number?”

“They were recommended by the Prince family,” she states while looking at her phone. “No. It was an unknown number. I had to give her an appointment. No one mentions the name Lorna Prince casually.”

“Who is Lorna?”

“The wife of the late Richard Prince. He died like five years ago, leaving his estate to his five children. Three scorching guys. His daughters are gorgeous. We’ve organized several events for them, including the wedding of her oldest daughter.”

“So, one of the most powerful women in society’s name is mentioned, and you jump?”

“It’s business, Liv.” She nods. “I knew you were available and just booked her. They wanted you.”

“Are you sure we’re not taking it?” I repeat.

“If Lorna calls, I’ll just tell her the groom is a fucking cheater.”

“If this woman is so important, why didn’t you place a reminder call?”

“We believed it was unnecessary. They were coming the next day.”

This upsets me even more. I’m raging. Can I cancel my dinner with her and her husband’s friends?

I want to buy two dozen cronuts and binge-watch Schitt’s Creek. The second option is heading to visit my bestie and drinking a bottle of tequila with her. That’s a no since she can’t drink—or stay up too late. Plus, she has that stupid dinner with her friends.

This is definitely another reason for me to pack and leave.

“You can make it for another few months, can’t you?”

Holly knows me too well.

“I said I’d be here for you. Once the baby is ready to rub your feet, I’ll leave,” I joke.

“Olivia.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt,” she insists. “When this happens, you like to escape.”

She’s confusing me with Mom, who tends to move on to a new house, a new town, or a new country after a breakup or a divorce. So, I don’t have a plan on what to do next. It’s because of the circumstances. First, it was my parents exchanging me every year. Then, it was college, grad school, work… Just when I thought I might be settling in San Francisco, here I am, in Colorado helping her.

“He’s nothing to me, okay. My pride is bruised.” I shrug one shoulder and give her a tight smile. “Ultimately, I’m not the one marrying a cheater.”

“Just don’t pack and leave without telling me,” she requests. “At least call if you need to talk to me.”

I stare at the frame she has on her desk. It’s a collage with pictures of her wedding day, her puppy, and her husband. Another one of them in front of their current place. It’s the image of someone who figured out her life at an early age and followed her dreams.

“You’ll get my call, even if it’s after midnight. I promise. Now, turn off the computer and head home.”

“We’ll see you tonight, right?”

I nod.

I head to pick up my stuff and leave. I don’t have time to deal with men or Eros Brown’s memory—or whatever his real name is.

Chapter Thirty-One

Eros

I’m usually a laid-back person. Seriously, I don’t give fucks about anything. I don’t care what people think