Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,35
reservation somewhere?”
“No, I’ve got it. Going to do something a little different tonight.”
He adjusted his glasses. “Interesting.”
My eyes flicked to him in annoyance as I rubbed a bead of pomade between my fingers. “What’s with the second-guessing? You don’t think I know how to take a woman on a date?”
“On the contrary, you’re quite skilled at it.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
He hesitated. “I wonder if you know what you’re getting into.”
“With what?” I ran my hands through my hair, massaging in the pomade. “Trying to date my wife?”
He chuckled. “You like calling her that.”
I shot him a glare. “I’m just making the best out of the situation.”
“Or taking advantage of it. But a request, if I may. Call her my wife as often as possible around Maleficent.”
I ignored his jibe at Althea. “She does have her panties in a bunch over the whole thing, doesn’t she?”
“Quite. Although I daresay bunched panties are a way of life for her.”
He wasn’t wrong, but she was damn good at her job. “Are you going to let me finish getting dressed or would you like to question more of my plans?”
“Just… be nice to her. I like this one.”
One corner of my mouth lifted. “Oh, I’m going to be very nice. Don’t you worry about that.”
“And another maiden falls victim to the ravishing rogue.”
“You’re one to talk.”
It was his turn to smile. “Touché.”
“Speaking of, have you asked her out yet or are you still dragging your feet?”
His eyes widened with mock innocence. “Who?”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t try to be coy; it’s not a good look. The tea shop girl.”
Scowling, he crossed his arms and glanced away. “No.”
That was odd. Oliver always killed it with the ladies. They went crazy over his accent. “Why not?”
“It appears she’s already dating someone. I saw him pick her up from work the other day.”
“So? If you want her, swoop in and steal her away. You’re good at the game. Don’t sit on the sidelines. Get out there and play.” I ducked into the walk-in closet to retrieve my pants.
Oliver followed. “I know; it should be simple. I should have her eating out of my hand by now, but something about her is… different.”
“Different how?”
“I can’t explain it. She makes me inexplicably nervous.”
I tugged my slacks up my legs. “Nervous about what? And when have you had a conversation with her that didn’t involve buying tea? Which, by the way, I saw how much you have stashed in the cupboard in my office. Maybe slow it down a little or I’ll have to open a competing shop and run her out of business.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Hey man, you’re the one buying tea from her every day.”
“I know. It’s like she’s cast a spell on me. I can’t stay away, but none of my usual tactics seem fitting.”
I finished tucking in my shirt and buttoned my pants. “You’re overthinking it. She’s just a girl.”
His eyes flashed with a sudden flare of… was that anger? But it was gone as quickly as it had come. “I daresay she’s not, but I don’t suppose you’ll understand that. In any case, do you need anything else before I retire to my depressingly single life while you enjoy an evening with the lovely Sophie?”
“You bet your ass I’m going to enjoy my evening. And no, take your drama queen attitude home for the night.” I paused to give myself another quick glance in the mirror before walking into my bedroom. “Don’t bug me tomorrow. At least not early.”
He followed me out. “Planning to cook her breakfast?”
I grinned. “I’m a gentleman, aren’t I?”
“That’s debatable.”
“See ya, Oliver,” I said to his back as he walked away.
“Goodnight.”
Chuckling, I cuffed my sleeves. Time to go pick up my wife.
Sophie’s apartment building was… well, it was fucking unacceptable is what it was. The red brick façade was cracked and worn, at least two of the windows had broken glass, and there was a car parked out front that had been stripped of just about everything easily removable. She wanted a house for her dad but she lived here?
I didn’t like it. How the hell did my sweet little sugar bug survive in a neighborhood like this?
Maybe I’d have to buy her a new house too. And talk to Calloway about her salary.
I got out of my car and leaned against the door while I texted her to let her know I was here.
Then I waited.
And waited.
And waited a little more.
It had probably only been a few minutes, but I started