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“What about him?”
“Hello? Earth to Olivia. You never said anything about him being fucking hot!”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, girl. Pretty sure I would’ve remembered that and been on the lookout for that pretty piece of eye candy to stroll into the studio.”
“Yes,” I said again slowly with a frown. “I told you he was coming and our cover story because I knew you’d never believe we were college friends.”
Her long beat of silence as she computed what I was saying—that a guy who looked like that would never have given a girl like me the time of day—finally sank in. “Ummm... why not?”
“Is this a serious question?”
“Oh my God! Is this your neuroses talking? You’re a smoke show!”
I rolled my eyes and couldn’t help but grin at her assessment of my less than voluptuous assets. “You’re sweet.”
“I’m honest.”
“Honest or not, during college, I pretty much had the figure of a preteen boy and wasn’t interested in much more than my dancing career. Someone like Justin would not have looked at me twice.”
She snorted adorably, giving my ego a boost. “So, what’s he like?”
I glanced over as his quiet footsteps padded by outside my door. A moment later, the guest room door closed with a barely audible click. “An enigma,” I said without thinking.
When I realized the line had gone silent, I focused back on the call. “Hello?”
“You like him.” Whitney declared it with a strange quality to her voice. In all our years as friends, I’d never really shown interest in a man, so this must be as foreign an idea to her as non-alcoholic margaritas.
“I barely know him.”
“And yet...” She let that thought linger there for a moment. “Well, if he’s gonna be around for a while, I’ll see what kind of person he is. You know I’ve got a sixth sense for these things. I’ll be able to tell if he’s good enough for you.”
“Whit! Nobody said anything about all that! He’s here to work because my brother is paying him. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good night,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, you will. Love you.”
“I love you, too, even if you’re a hopelessly delusional romantic.”
She was laughing as we disconnected, and I hugged a pillow to my chest, mulling over our call. Justin was an enigma. I didn’t know much about the man currently taking up residence in my guest room, other than he worked for a high-end security company that my big brother trusted implicitly, he said he used to be a Navy SEAL, had won the Navy Cross, and wore his own scars like armor. Yet when he smiled, I could see tiny glimpses of someone else underneath. Someone warm and kind. Soft and caring. Maybe that was my imagination, creating what I wanted to see. I’d learned the hard way that I tend to see the best in everyone, even when it wasn’t there. Even when it bit me in the ass, and I winded up pregnant and alone.
The next thing I knew, I was waking up with the first rays of sunshine streaming in my still open blinds. Groggy, I wiped my eyes and realized I’d dozed off in my clothes after my call with Whitney and slept like the dead. My cell had fallen onto the bed next to me, so I picked it up and checked the time. Almost seven thirty.
The house was still quiet, but I could hear Lizzy’s soft babbling as she talked to herself in that sweet, happy chatter of a child.
I smiled up at the ceiling as contentedness hit me in soft waves. Life was good in that moment because my daughter and I were safe in our home, and I’d slept amazingly because of it.
I rose and used the restroom, then ran a brush through my wild hair.
Out in the hallway, all the doors were closed, so I figured Justin must still be sleeping. I tiptoed to Elizabeth’s room and cracked open the door. She smiled up at me from her bed, her big hazel eyes bright.
“Mama!” She jumped up and lifted her arms my way, her favorite stuffed toy in one hand, a sippy cup of juice in another.
I went in and picked her up with a kiss, then pointed at the cup I had not put her to bed with. “Where’d you get the drink, sweetie?”