Our mingled laughter fills the air around table.
ChapterThirteen
Finley
Our food shows up, and we eat, the conversation flowing with ease.
“I talked to Oliver earlier today,” he says.
I almost choke on my mashed potatoes. “You’re going to tell me about it?” I take a drink of water to clear my throat.
“Yeah. Why not?” He dips a shrimp in cocktail sauce and pops it into his mouth.
“Aren’t I the enemy?”
“We’re not enemies. Maybe you and Oliver can be at cross-purposes, but I want to find a solution for both of you.”
“If you say so. I still think it’s impossible.” I wave my fork in the air. “But go ahead. What did my heinous archnemesis have to say?”
“Mostly more of the same. He’s ready to buy, why can’t I get you to capitulate, yadda, yadda, yadda. One interesting question came up, and in the interest of full disclosure, I wanted to let you know he asked me about Piper.”
Surprise lifts my brows. “What? Why?”
“He bought a gallery. Sounds like he wants to feature some of her work.”
I finish chewing before responding. “Everyone wants some of her work because her manager has made her super exclusive. He’s also her boyfriend and a total ass.”
His head tilts. “How so?”
“I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s controlling, but like over the top. It’s like he’s trying to cut her off from us. Or, I don’t know, maybe she’s cutting herself off. The last time we talked, I overheard him snap at her, and I told her he was out of line. Now she barely takes my calls.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t gone out there with your shotgun.”
I laugh. “Trust me, if I thought it would help, I would.”
Talking to Archer about everything . . . there’s something about his calm manner and easy style that makes everything a little less bleak. I want to offer the same in return. I want to know more about his mom, but he didn’t seem open to sharing.
“How did they meet?” he asks.
“Through her work, right after she moved to LA. At first, he was perfect, and she was so happy. He came home with her for Christmas when they first started dating, and everyone loved him. He’s handsome, charming, and he treated her like a queen, in front of us, anyway, but . . . but we haven’t really seen her since. There’s always an excuse, and they’re his excuses.”
His eyes are sympathetic. “That’s hard.”
“It is hard.” But something about sitting here, rolling around in all these deep feelings while he listens attentively . . . it makes it easier, the load a little less burdensome. “It’s hard to talk to Piper about anything upsetting, you know? She’s very sensitive, very sweet. Sometimes too sweet.” I frown down at my half-finished meal.
“You miss her.”
I lift my eyes. “I do, but I’m also wondering why Oliver brought her up to you. Is he stalking my whole family now?”
Archer winces. “Maybe?”
My mouth pops open. “Really?” My voice is high pitched.
“Not in a way where you have to contact the authorities,” he rushes to assure me. “Oliver is a strange person, but he’s not dangerous or anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gathered a dossier with basic info on your family as soon as he decided he wanted the property. He’s just very . . . goal oriented.”
My brows lift. “You call that goal oriented?”
“It’s hard to explain.”