Page 84 of If We Were Perfect (If Love 4)

“You made these dumplings from scratch.”

“That’s what I said.”

He eyed Olivia with suspicion. “You don’t cook.”

“I learned. I’m an excellent student, as you know.”

“Not in the kitchen. Remember the meatloaf disaster?” Sammy picked up a dumpling and held it away from him like he was handling a rabid animal. “Tell me the truth. What are the chances I’ll get food poisoning again?”

Olivia scowled. “I can’t believe you’d ask me that. I am hurt. I am offended. I am—”

“Answer the question, Liv.”

“Fine. More than zero and less than a hundred.” She heaved a sigh. “Justeatthe damn thing. Tell me what you think. If you do get food poisoning, I’ll nurse you back to health.”

Sammy grimaced. “That doesn’t inspire confidence.” He made the sign of the cross over his chest before he bit into the dumpling with the look of a man on his way to the gallows.

What a drama king.

His eyes popped open, and Olivia tensed with anticipation.

Sammy pointed an accusing finger at her. “You dirty liar.”

“Me?” She widened her eyes with exaggerated innocence. “What did I do?”

“You ordered these from Wah Sing! I’d recognize the taste anywhere.”

Olivia choked back a laugh. “Maybe I convinced them to give me their secret recipe and made it from scratch like I said I did.”

“Right. And I’m the Queen of England.” Sammy ate the rest of the dumpling and shook his head. “How? They don’t do takeout.”

“I can be very persuasive.” Translation: Olivia had shown up in person and offered to pay them double the cost of the dumplings if the restaurant boxed them up for her. “But fine, you caught me. I didn’t cook them, so you can eat them without fearing for your health. I just wanted to see how you’d react if I told you I’d cooked. Clearly, you have no faith in me.”

“I do, as long as it doesn’t involve you being within two feet of a stove or oven.” Sammy kissed her on the lips. “Thanks, babe. I needed this.”

“No problem.”

Olivia’s chest squeezed as she watched him eat. Dark circles smudged the skin beneath his eyes, and his wan complexion reflected his stress and lack of sleep. He’d insisted on spending time with her instead of resting since he “couldn’t fall asleep anyway” and they had so little time left before she was due back at Stanford.

“How’d your performance review go?” Sammy asked.

Olivia stuffed a dumpling in her mouth, using it as an excuse to delay answering. She chewed slowly while Sammy watched her with a curious expression.

“Fine,” she mumbled after swallowing. “Highest marks across the board.”

Pride lit up his face. “I knew it! No way your boss won’t approve your transfer. You’re the best employee they’ve got.”

“Yeah.”

Guilt prickled her throat. Sammy was amazing. Some men couldn’t handle successful women, but even in college, he’d been nothing but supportive. He celebrated with her when she was up and cheered her up when she was down. He’d believed in her every step of the way—more than she’d believed in him in the beginning.

She shouldn’t be this torn between him and her career—but she was. Because while she loved Sammy, she loved her job, too. She’d spent her entire life to get where she was now. She couldn’t throw all that away without thinking the situation through.

Sammy’s face clouded at her unenthusiastic response. He examined her carefully. “You do still want to transfer, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” Olivia squeezed his hand. “Sorry. It’s just been a long day.”

She didn’t want to dump her troubles on him. She hadn’t come to a decision yet, and until she did, there was no need to add more stress to his plate.