Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,6
him—which was something of a miracle. Oliver and Althea only tolerated each other because they had to.
“Keep me posted.” She cast a quick glare at Oliver, then left.
“That’s it, Maleficent,” Oliver muttered. “Back to your black castle of darkness.”
I chuckled, then took a sip of my tea. “Obviously I need a backup plan if Calloway says no, but for now, we’ll take this one step at a time.”
He checked his watch. “Speaking of meetings with investors, you have one with Irene Prager at her office in less than half an hour.”
Nodding, I took a finger sandwich and popped it in my mouth. Irene Prager was one of the remaining Skyline investors. The fact that she wanted to meet in person was a good sign. It meant I had a shot at convincing her to see the project through.
This was the biggest development deal of my career. I was not going to lose it now.
“Do you need me to join you?” Oliver asked.
“Yeah, you should come. Irene loves you.”
He grinned. “It’s the accent.”
“Drives the ladies wild,” I said. “And if it puts Irene in a stick-with-Cox-Development mood, even better.”
“I’ll do my best to be suitably charming.”
Oliver and I finished up with the tea, and he took it away. Irene’s office was only two blocks away and it was warm for March, so I decided to walk. I slipped on my suit jacket and waited for Oliver to join me.
We went down the elevator to the lobby and through the glass front doors. Blue sky peeked out between the skyscrapers, and the hum of traffic filled the air. The first job I’d taken here in Seattle had been in this very building, working for a commercial real estate developer. Only three years later, I’d bought him out.
Now I owned the building.
The scent of food wafted from the open door of a restaurant, making me glad I wasn’t heading to this meeting on an empty stomach. There was definitely something to Oliver’s insistence on afternoon tea.
We crossed the street and Oliver stopped in his tracks. He tilted his head, peering into a shop on the corner.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Shh.”
“Did you just shush me?”
He held up a hand and took a tentative step forward, his head still tilted at an odd angle. “Give me one second.”
It was a tea shop, aptly named Spot Of Tea. But I had no clue why Oliver was staring through the window like a creeper.
“You like tea a lot more than I realized,” I said. “I’m a little worried, to be honest.”
“It’s not the tea, it’s—” He stopped and let out what could only be described as a sigh. “Her.”
I moved closer so I could see the girl working behind the counter. She had long, light-brown hair and wore a white apron over her blue shirt. “Who is she?”
“I don’t know. They don’t wear name tags. But I think I’m going to marry her.”
I snort-laughed. “Marry her? You might be skipping a few steps if you don’t even know her name.”
He adjusted his glasses. “I know. I’m working on it.”
“Well, either get your ass in there and ask her out or let’s keep walking. We have a meeting to get to and you’re blocking the sidewalk.”
He huffed but tore his gaze away from her. “Fine. But I’m not kidding. I look at her and I have this feeling. She’s destined to be my wife.”
I resumed walking and Oliver fell in step beside me.
“Since when are you so interested in getting married?”
“I’m not interested in marriage for the sake of getting married. Although my mother certainly has opinions about that. You’d think she’s the matriarch of a wealthy family desperate for an heir.”
“You and me both.” My mother had something of an obsession with me getting married. Which was unfortunate for her because I wasn’t the marrying type.
“But wouldn’t it be nice to come home to that special someone every night?” he asked.
“Not really.”
He laughed. “You’d think you’re a confirmed old bachelor, not a very eligible man in his thirties.”
“Maybe I’m ahead of my time. Confirmed old bachelor sounds fine to me.”
Oliver laughed again, but I wasn’t kidding. My parents’ marriage had been a shitshow, and I’d decided years ago that marriage wasn’t for me. I dated women all the time, but never anything serious. And I had a great life. I’d risen from nothing, and now I worked hard, played hard, and enjoyed the many fruits of my labor without having to answer to anyone.