“Sorry, I’m just,”—I help her climb off me so I can snatch up the phone—“enjoying being a single man having fun with a woman. I haven’t done this since I was twenty, or maybe even a little younger.” I release a frustrated breath.
The phone vibrates again right in my hand with another text and then one more. A smile spreads across her face as she flicks her fingers toward it. “I understand. And it’s okay. Go ahead and see who’s trying to reach you.”
I scan the texts that have just come in, my excitement over the coming evening with Quinn fading fast.
Becky: I’m going to need to bring Olivia home today.
Becky: Sorry.
Becky: She’s feeling sick and said she wants to sleep in her own bed.
Becky: Like she doesn’t have a bed here.
Becky: But you know, nothing like a little teenage drama.
Becky: We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.
Fuck. I close my eyes, cursing myself for jinxing our fun. “Well, all good things must come to an end, unfortunately.” I wave the phone in front of me. “They’ll be back soon.”
Quinn’s mouth drops into an O. “Shoot. I’d better get out of here, then.” She bites her lip. “I guess dinner is out.”
I grimace. “Yeah. I don’t even know if Olivia is really sick or if she’s not happy being with her mom this weekend. They’ve been butting heads a lot lately, so it could just be that.”
“Shit. I don’t have my car. How are we going to get me home and you back here for her?”
“Olivia has a house key. I’ll let her know I had to stop in at the cider mill and will be back as soon as possible.” I shrug. “It shouldn’t take me long. I need to talk with Stacy for a few minutes anyway to make sure she doesn’t need help with tomorrow’s event.”
“Okay.” She stands. “I wish I could help you somehow, but I’m guessing Olivia wouldn’t be ready for that yet.”
The need to help is visibly huge in her eyes but she’s right. We’re not quite there yet. I shake my head. “We’ll get there. I can’t even guarantee this is the weekend I’ll be able to talk to her today about us. If she’s not feeling well …”
“No, you’re totally right. Don’t push it. I’ll go throw my clothes on.”
I rake my hands through my hair. What a fucking day. I sure as hell hope I can get home to Olivia soon. I’d called her after she’d texted that she was home to see how she was doing. I could hear in her voice that she’s not well, but she swore she’d be fine and is bundled up on the couch with a cup of cocoa having a movie marathon. That may be, but I’m still not keen on the idea of her being sick and home alone. Had I known what I’d encounter when I got to work … well, shit. I couldn’t have done anything differently, but I sure wish I could have.
When I’d arrived at the cider mill a few hours ago, my manager Stacy had been running around like a chicken with her head cut off, completely discombobulated. I’d only stopped by on the off chance that there was something I could help her with. Usually, she’s so levelheaded she can handle anything thrown at her. That’s why she’s been so amazing as a manager. But apparently, somehow the tablecloths hadn’t come back on time from our laundry service company, so there’s been a massive standstill on the set up for the reception.
“So, we’ll have them first thing in the morning, is that right?” I clamp my teeth together. The woman on the other end of the phone at our laundering service is not at fault here and it’ll do no good to lose my shit with her over this. Who knows where the misunderstanding came in, but apparently the linens that we need for the big wedding tomorrow are not ready and not scheduled to be delivered until tomorrow.
“Yes sir. Again, I’m so sorry for the mix-up.”
“It’s okay as long as we have them first thing. You said you can have them delivered by eight?”
“Yes. I’ll make sure it happens if I have to drive them to you myself.”
I clear my throat. I can’t imagine anything I do or say is going to make this happen faster. “Okay. Thank you.”
She offers her apologies again, and we hang up.
Stacy hurries over. “Did I hear that right? Tomorrow at eight is the earliest?”
I blow out a steady stream of air and a strangled chuckle bursts from my lips. “Yep. I’ll be in as soon as I can manage it. When I left the house earlier, Becky was on her way with Olivia, who is sick.”
“Oh my. I hope it’s nothing serious.” Her brows draw together. Stacy has children of her own, so I know she gets it.
“She sounded congested over the phone. I’m guessing it’s a cold. There may also be a side of teenage angst thrown in there. Not sure yet. She seemed annoyed that I was concerned.”
Stacy winces. “You go on home to her. I’m sure you’ll have your hands full when you get there no matter what the issue is. I can handle the rest of what needs to happen tonight.”