Page 25 of Oliver
We were at our regular bar, occupying our usual corner booth. Saturday nights were packed, which was why we typically dropped in for early happy hour catch-up sessions. But tonight, I couldn't focus on anything Tobias was saying.
"She's twenty-eight minutes late responding," I muttered, setting the phone face-up on the table, ensuring I wouldn't miss the notification. "Zahra's never late. Not once in the three days she's been in Norman."
"Oh my God," Tobias clutched his chest in mock horror. "Twenty-eight whole minutes? Call the National Guard!"
I shot him a withering look. "The schedule is precise for a reason. Consistency creates credibility."
"Right, and it has nothing to do with you being worried about her."
"I'm not worried about her." It was an auto-response, scripted, about as convincing as me trying to act indifferent, even as my fingers twitched toward my phone again. "I'm concerned about maintaining the illusion for my client."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ollie." Tobias grinned, taking a long pull from his beer. "But I've known you for, what, nine years now? I can tell when you're bullshitting me."
“Yet you still use that abhorrent nickname that I’ve asked, nay,demandedyou refrain from dozens of times.”
“Way to change trajectory.” Tobias leaned forward, a dangerous dare gleaming in his eyes. “It isn’t working, though,Ollie.”
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. I'm worried. She said Ryan was out of town this week, but what if he came back early? What if he has her cornered? What if?—"
"What if she's just stuck in a meeting? Or her phone died? Or she's having dinner with her family?" Tobias countered. "You know, normal stuff that doesn’t involve a menacing ex and a worst-case scenario?"
He was right, of course. The statistical probability of something dire happening to Zahra was minimal. But statistics provided little comfort when I remembered the way Ryan had looked at her every time she spoke to me in high school—the possessive edge to his smile, and the calculation in his eyes.
The rumors he’d started to ruin my reputation and drive a wedge between us.
"It's just...out of character," I admitted, checking the time again. "Zahra adheres to schedules with an almost obsessive precision."
"Takes one to know one," Tobias muttered with a smirk.
I ignored him, drumming my fingers on the table, an agitated staccato that matched the rhythm of my thoughts. This shouldn't bother me so much. It was a business arrangement, nothing more. Zahra was a client, not a?—
My phone lit up, the vibration nearly causing me to knock over my untouched beer.
OMG, that last vendor meeting was soooooooo long! There was a massive flower arrangement crisis. You wouldn't believe the Peonies vs. Gardenia drama I had to handle today.
Relief flooded through me, washing away the tension that had been building between my shoulders for the past half hour. I quickly typed back a response, adhering to our agreed-upon tone of playful affection.
Not the Peonies!
Right?! But I swayed them, babe. They’re on the right track now. Worth the wait for my message?
I never doubted you and you’re worth the wait, period.
Awww. So sweet.
I admit, though, I was starting to worry that Ryan had kidnapped you and hidden your body in the church basement.
I paused, reconsidering the message. Perhaps too dark? But Zahra had shown an appreciation for my morbid sense of humor, even if it was sometimes inappropriate. I hit send.
Her response came almost immediately.
Please. If Ryan tried anything, I'd be the one hiding HIS body in the basement. But good news—got the official green light that you're my plus-one for the wedding. Everyone is "so excited" to see you again.
Well, I’m excited about seeing you in four days. Everyone else can wait.
I set the phone down, a weight lifting from my shoulders that I hadn't fully acknowledged was there.
“Look at that grin,” Tobias said with a wide, ominously delighted smirk. “And you were typing away like a possessed teenager in a rom-com. I’ve never seen you like this, not even with Alyssa.”
