“Good.”
While Eleanor rattled on about Alina’s wedding, Olivia tuned her out. Her mother hadn’t stopped talking about Alina’s engagement to Richard Barrons III since Richard popped the question with a four-carat Cartier last year. He was Eleanor’s dream son-in-law—a wealthy, generically handsome, Harvard-educated hedge fund manager from a good family whom she could brag about in her weekly ladies-who-lunch meetings.
Personally, Olivia thought Richard was a douchenozzle and total sleaze, but she wasn’t the one marrying the guy. At least her mother, sister, and future brother-in-law lived in Chicago, and she could keep her physical contact with them to a minimum.
“I have to go,” Olivia said when she saw Sammy step out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner. Bye!”
She hung up before Eleanor could rope her into another conversation she didn’t want to take part in. Talking with her mother always made her blood pressure spike.
“Sorry about that,” Sammy said as they exited the bakery. Afternoon sunshine spilled over them, warming Olivia’s chilled skin. “Things took longer than I expected.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s your job, and you’ve already been driving me around all morning.” Olivia climbed into the passenger seat. “Besides, I had your cupcakes to keep me company.”
A smile flitted over his face. “You okay with going back to the house right now? I can make lunch.”
“Yes, but I just need to grab my bag. I’m not hungry yet.” Olivia had left her overnight duffel at Sammy’s house. The rest of her belongings were stuffed in his trunk and backseat—they’d spent hours packing and getting rid of her furniture after her landlord left that morning. “I can call an Uber XL that’ll fit all my stuff and have them drive me to a hotel. I don’t want to inconvenience you any more than I already have.”
“It’s not an inconvenience.” Sammy stared straight ahead, his jaw flexing like he was holding a silent debate with himself. “Did you already book the hotel?”
“No. I’ll do it now.” Olivia pulled up the relevant tab on her phone. She’d already decided on a hotel and had been ready to check out before her mother called.
“Wait.”
She raised a questioning eyebrow, and Sammy delivered his next words so casually, so innocuously that she didn’t realize their import until much later.
“Instead of a hotel, why don’t you move into my place?”