Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,28

idea of a joke.

Fine. I could take a joke.

This also meant I needed to stop procrastinating and call him.

With my heart beating uncomfortably hard, I called his office.

“Camden Cox’s office. This is Oliver.”

“Hi, Oliver. This is Sophie Abbott.”

“Well hello there, darling. I was expecting your call.”

“You were?”

“Certainly. What works better for you, lunch or dinner?”

“Wait, what?”

“I assume you’re calling to set up a… what shall we call it? A date?”

Oh my god, did he know? He probably knew. “Oh, no, not a date. It’s more like… a meeting.”

“Meeting? Sounds boring.”

“It’s more accurate than a date.”

He chuckled. “Try telling him that.”

What was that supposed to mean? “I don’t think I can get away for lunch today. So I guess dinner?”

“You don’t sound convinced. Aren’t you looking forward to seeing your husband?”

“Oliver,” I hissed into the phone. “No. That’s not… We’re not… I mean, we are, but…”

“I’m sorry, darling, I shouldn’t tease you. I’ll be serious now, I promise. But Mr. Cox did tell me to expect your call and to ask whether you’d like to have lunch or dinner with him. So, dinner then?”

“Yeah, that works.”

“Beautiful, I have you down. Can I get your home address?”

“Sure.” I rattled off my address for him.

“Great, I’ll have the driver pick you up around seven if that works.”

“Seven is fine, but I don’t need—”

“Cheers, love.”

And that was that.

With another deep breath, I hung up the phone, then put the lid back on the box and tucked it under my desk. I didn’t want to accidentally knock it over and have the contents spill out. With my luck, it would happen right at Mr. Calloway’s feet and I’d have to explain why Camden Cox was sending me lingerie. Not a conversation you wanted to have with your boss.

Just like Oliver said, a driver arrived at my apartment to pick me up right at seven. He politely ushered me into the back of the limo, but it was empty. No Cox.

I tried not to fidget on the large seat as we drove. Maybe I should have asked to sit up front like I had with J.J. in Vegas.

We turned down a long drive with an amazing view of the water and parked in front of a large house with a covered entryway and dark wood double doors. The windows glowed with light and I could see it was right on the lake.

Apparently he hadn’t just invited me to dinner. He’d invited me to his house for dinner.

The driver opened the door for me and I got out just as Cox appeared in the entry.

“Thanks, Carson,” he said.

The driver lifted his hand in greeting, then got back in the limo.

Cox turned his attention back to me and the smile that stole across his face made my tummy flutter.

It’s fine, Sophie. He’s just your accidental husband. Who lives in a mansion on the lake. No big deal.

“Hi, sugar,” he said, and that accent was going to be the death of me. “Thanks for coming.”

I approached, trying to act like everything was fine. But it was hitting me hard that I’d married this man and I had no idea what we were going to do about it. “Thanks for inviting me.”

He gestured for me to come in, so I followed him inside. He shut the door and led me into the kitchen—the most incredible kitchen I’d ever seen. It was big and open with wood cabinets and granite counters.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.

I snort-laughed as I set my coat and purse on a stool. “I think I’ll stick with water. Or something non-alcoholic at least.”

The corner of his lips twitched. “We do seem to get ourselves into mischief when alcohol’s involved.”

“Mischief? More like an epic disaster.”

“It’s not that bad, is it?”

“We got married.” I paused for a second. “We did, right? It’s legal?”

“Afraid so. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

I laughed again, but there wasn’t a lot of humor in it. “Until we figure out how to fix it.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just started taking to-go containers out of a brown bag. But the way his eyes flicked to me and back to the food made me wonder what he was thinking.

“I’m not much of a cook,” he said finally. “So I had Oliver do the honors and order dinner. I hope you like Thai.”

“I love Thai food. Can I help with anything?”

“Sure.”

I helped him bring dinner to the dining table and only stopped to gape at the view for a moment or