The Million-Dollar Question. Kimberly Lang

he pulled back out onto the interstate.

      Last night had certainly been odd. And while he still didn’t have a good explanation for why Olivia had contacted him, he didn’t regret it. He just wasn’t sure what, if anything, it meant, and what, if anything, he should do about it.

      It wasn’t a feeling he liked. In fact, he intentionally avoided these kinds of situations. Everything needed to be up front and clear, without mystery or games or prevarications. Jory was a straight-up, no games, kind of guy, so he’d assumed Olivia would be the same. Why then did he feel so bothered at the idea she might not be?

      He snorted. Maybe because he wasn’t sexually attracted to Jory.

      Of course, the next question was if Olivia was still attracted to him? He’d like to say yes, and there had been moments, but that could be wishful thinking on his part. But she had left her phone in his car … accidentally or intentionally?

      He was pulling into the parking lot of Riley Construction when Olivia’s phone rang again. “Hello?”

      “Hi.” There was great relief in her voice that didn’t sound fake. “My name’s Olivia, and you seem to have my phone.”

      Accidentally. That knowledge came with unexpected disappointment and made his words sharper than intended. “Because you left it in my car last night.”

      There was a pause, then a confused, “Evan?”

      “Who else?”

      “I thought I’d left it at the restaurant or something. I didn’t even think to call you.” He heard her sigh. “I’m so glad you have it, though. My life is in that phone.”

      “I know how you feel.”

      “We should be breaking for lunch soon. Can I meet you somewhere and get it?”

      “I’m in West Palm Beach for a meeting and won’t be back until later this afternoon.”

      “Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Well, let me know when and where would be good for you.”

      “I can drop it by the studio later, though, on my way home,” he offered for some reason.

      “That would be awesome. I’ll be here until around five-thirty or so. The studio is in Wynwood.”

      “Then I can find it.”

      “Thanks, Evan. I really appreciate it.”

      He silenced the phone’s ringer before putting it in his briefcase. Although Olivia would quit calling her phone now, other people might, and he really didn’t want that annoying song blaring out during the meeting. If he was remembering correctly, the MMBC studio wasn’t too far out of his way home, and he could swing by easily.

      But, jeez. She was at the studio already and would be there until five-thirty? When Olivia said she worked her body hard, she hadn’t been kidding. Granted, he knew next to nothing about the subject, but he would have guessed the job would be part-time at best. How long could it take, really? He had to assume she knew all the moves; putting them in a specific order for a performance shouldn’t take all that long.

      She’d said yesterday that she’d been in rehearsals for six hours. He’d assumed that was either an exaggeration or at least unusual. Six or seven hours in a dance studio couldn’t be easy, much less doing that every day. Or maybe she didn’t dance the whole time? He had no idea. A six or seven hour workday didn’t seem like much, but then Olivia wasn’t exactly sitting at a desk.