“Thirty-eight so a bit older than you, but I believe his son does soccer with Leo so they already know each other. He got divorced a year ago.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“I’ll pass on your number.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t.”
“It’s fine. It’s not a bother, London.” She paused. “It still annoys me that your mother named you after a place and not a plant.”
I grimaced. “Thank you. It’s been a lovely visit with you, too.” I got up.
“Are you leaving already?”
“Well, in the last two minutes you have both tried to set me up with someone and insulted my name, and I have fifty thousand things to do for my job.”
“Oh. I’m still passing your number on.”
“You do that, Grandma,” I finally acquiesced. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going out with him.”
“You will. He’s terribly handsome.”
“Mhmm.” I kissed her cheek. “Be good.”
“Never am.”
She could say that again.
CHAPTER SEVEN – LONDON
RULE SEVEN: DO NOT LET GRANDMA GET INVOLVED.
There were a lot of things I tolerated in my life.
Finding Legos on the floor after I’ve asked eight times for them to be picked up. Socks constantly stuffed between the sofa cushions. Clothing always missing the laundry basket as if by magic.
Rain.
Bad book-to-movie adaptations.
My grandmother being involved in my dating life was not one of those.
She hadn’t been lying when she said she was going to pass my number on to Leonard’s grandson. He’d already texted me, apologizing for the intrusion, explaining that our grandparents were on the warpath and he was looking forward to meeting me in person tomorrow night at soccer practice.
Turned out the kid who wanted to be striker, Tom, was his son.
I had a horrible feeling it was going to end up with us meeting up so the boys could practice.
Look, I wasn’t against it.
I wasn’t against dating. It was just hard for me to justify bringing someone into Leo’s life, and it wasn’t like I had tons of free time where I could date quietly and introduce them when things got serious. If Chris lived closer, that would be different. I couldn’t keep springing stuff on my aunt and uncle or paying Felicity just so I could go out for dinner.
Thirty-eight also seemed a whole lot older than twenty-seven, when I considered he was divorced.
Then again, I’d had to grow up pretty quickly when I fell pregnant when I was twenty, and I’d just about managed to get my degree before Leo was born.
Not to mention the whole being cheated on thing.
I sighed as I put my phone back in my purse. I’d been interviewing Seb for two hours already, but there was so much to see and do at the center and the story behind it all was so long, from his injury to his epiphany that playing baseball again was more hassle than it was worth, that I had the distinct feeling I’d be writing a novel instead of an article.
“Sorry,” he said, emerging from his office. “What next? Or do you want to get some lunch?”
“Actually, can we get a couple of snaps in your office?” Sydney asked, holding up his camera. “It’ll accompany the personal section of your interview well.”
“Sure.” Seb opened the door. “What do you want me to do?”
“Oh, wow.” Sydney beelined for the trophy cabinet. “Do you mind opening it so I can get some photos?”
“Of course not.” Seb fumbled with his keys where he selected a small silver one, then unlocked the cabinet.
“You’re going to need to label a photo of that for me,” I teased him. “I’ve seen less gold in a jewelry store.”
He laughed as Sydney snapped photos from several angles. “Send one over and I’ll talk you through them all.”
“Okay, amazing, thanks.” Sydney pulled back and adjusted his hat. “Can we get a couple candid ones of you at the desk? Pretend to be on the phone, working on your diary, the computer, just pretend like I’m not here.”
I quickly scribbled a few decorative points in my notebook—the furniture, the style, the view out onto the outdoor sports areas and the boot camp barn that was being built…
“Great. Is it lunchtime now?”
I laughed. “Yeah, Sydney, you’re good. Thank you. Shall we take forty-five minutes and meet back at the gym?”
Sydney nodded and left, heading down the corridor.
“Come on,” Seb said to me. “There’s food in the staff kitchen for us. Holley spent yesterday bulk cooking and I stole some pasta salads from the fridge this morning.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. “So what’s left for us to cover?” I asked, following him down the hall.
“The gym, where you’ll find Dylan, and he’s set aside twenty minutes to talk to you about the classes before he goes home.”
“Awesome.”
“Then the outdoor areas and the boot camp barn, I think. It is a construction site, but we can both go in as long as we follow the rules and put hats on and all that stuff. Hi!” He waved over a lithe woman with blonde hair tied into a bun on top of her head. “Lily, this is London. She’s writing the article on the center.”