Page 63 of The Opposite of Romance
“Want to go take a nap?” I ask her.
“Nah, that’s ok. I want to chat with you for a second.”
“Sure.” I relax in my chair, trying not to stare at Logan. Since our encounter the other day, it has become increasingly harder to do that.
Still, I can’t help but notice he now fully abandoned the saw, letting it stay turned on while he works on other things. I release a relieved breath.At least we won’t make him fall behind.
“I brought the list.” Sandy brings my attention back to her, opening her backpack.
“What?”
“We haven’t updated the trope list after your little tsk-tsk,” she points her eyes toward Logan, “adventurethe other day.”
“I don’t think he fits any of the tropes,” I respond.
“What do you mean? He has to fit into something.” She lets out a chuckle. “Let me see.” She brings out the ridiculous paper, studying it carefully.
“We have small town…” she starts to say.
“Nope, he doesn’t live here. He’s actually based in Seattle.”
She mumbles the tropes under her breath. “Billionaire, military, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, rivals, oh, maybe he has a secret identity?”
I check to see if Logan might be listening to us, but he looks focused on his work. And the saw is still on. “I doubt he has a secret identity.”
“Accidental pregnancy,” is the next one she says, giggling.
“Don’t even put that into the universe.” I point my finger at her.
“How old did you say he is? Maybe we could call it an age gap.”
“He’s 29,” I whisper. “And age gaps don’t work that way. It could pass as a reverse age gap, but it’s not really a popular trope.”
“Forbidden love? You are his employer, after all.”
“That’s way too mild for a forbidden love. He’d have to be my stepson or something for that.”
Sandy bursts out laughing and I join in.
“Ok, so no tropes,” she says. “But the only thing a romance story really needs is a HEA.”
“This is not a romance story,” I whisper-yell. “This was a one-time thing, the result of an involuntary drought.”
“Why wouldn’t it be a romance story? I know you need him for the deck, but he’ll be done with that in a month, tops. What’s stopping you?”
“Ugh,” I groan. “This isn’t an actual romance book. It’s real life. And in real life, young guys with no commitments don’t plan their futures around significantly older,” she rolls her eyes, “single moms. I need to be realistic about this, and getting into another heartbreak would be the worst thing that could happen.”
She eyes me for a second, as if evaluating what she should say next. “Fine. No romance. But it could be just sex. You’re friends, right? So why not a friends with benefitsthing?”
“We’re hardly friends,” I scoff. “We’re two polite people working close to each other.”
I never mentioned the dinner we had after my failed date with the morally gray grump. Nor that he’s teaching Liv how to do things. I guess one could describe us as friends. He spends more time with us than David did in the last couple of years. It’s not the same, of course, but he blended in perfectly. Even though he’s not here of his own free will.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “But you’re crazy to havethisat your disposal and not even use it.”
“He’s a person, not a thing to be used.”
“Yeah, I’m sure he would hate to be used.” Her voice drips sarcasm.
