Home Matters (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella, Book 1) by Julie N. Ford

please?”
    “Excellent choice, Mr. Blaine,” Timothy enthused. “Your appetizers should be out in a jiff,” he added and rushed off.
    Olivia’s stomach moaned in protest. She didn’t want the snapper. She’d wanted the crab cakes. And even if she had wanted the fish, she’d have also wanted it swimming in lime butter. The fact that she wouldn’t have allowed herself to eat the whole of either dish wasn’t enough to soothe the disappointment streaming from her taste buds to her cavernous belly. Normally, she would speak up, correct his misguided assumption, but it was sweet, the way William was being all gentlemanly and ordering for them both. Lifting her glass, she took a long, consoling swallow. The tea, in the very least, was the best she’d ever tasted. And really, what right did she have to complain, inwardly or otherwise, when she was having such a lovely time?
    William cut himself a healthy bite of Olivia’s cheese biscuit, dipped it into the syrup and took a bite. “Yumm,” he hummed, closing his eyes for effect as he chewed. “Best biscuit ever. How many calories, do you think?” he asked, bringing his tea to his mouth for a sip. Olivia wasn’t sure how to respond. First, she didn’t have the foggiest idea about the caloric content beyond the obvious—astronomical. Second, she had yet to become accustomed to Hollywood men and their obsession with physical appearance. Prior to heading out west, she’d never known a man to be concerned about calories, much less make an open inquiry into the matter.
    “I can’t say,” she said, eyeing her fork still resting in William’s hand. “But who cares when they are so absolutely heavenly? What could it hurt to indulge just this once?” she added, leaning forward, her lips parted in anticipation of another wondrous bite.
    William set his glass back to the table, his lips pursed in disapproval. “Our waistlines, for starters.” He set Olivia’s fork down—just out of her reach—and slid his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer. Retrieving a silver flask, he popped the top and dumped a stream of golden liquid into his tea. With a dip of the flask to Olivia, he offered to do the same to hers.
    “Oh, no thank you.” Olivia waved his offer off. “Mine’s perfect the way it is.”
    He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” Subtly, he knocked his head back, taking a long drag from the small, shiny opening. Replacing the cap, he slid the flask back into his blazer pocket and changed the subject. “Who’s your trainer?”
    Olivia didn’t have a trainer per se. What she had was a standing appointment at the gym down the street from her LA apartment three days a week. Since most of the gym’s trainers had “day jobs,” the one she got on any given visit varied.
    “Samantha,” she offered the first trainer’s name that popped into her head.
    William cocked an eyebrow. “A woman,” he mused, his eyes betraying a depraved interest. “I’d like to meet her.”
    A shot of jealousy ripped through Olivia. “Sure,” she agreed, glancing away to hide the wounded look in her eyes. “Next time we’re both in LA, I can—”
    “Wait.” William interrupted, baffled. “She doesn’t travel with you?”
    A lie leapt from Olivia’s mouth before she could stop it. “She’s on… maternity leave,” she said, cursing herself for caring more about what he thought than she did about her own integrity, which didn’t stop her from taking her pretext one step further. “What with getting this role so late and all, I didn’t have the time to interview, much less hire, another,” she added. Why was she pretending, playing a role with William, a man she hoped to start a relationship with?
    “You could share mine,” he said, saluting her with his tea before taking a long sip. “It might be fun… working out together. Then we could hit the spa for a couple’s massage and facial. This humidity has turned my pores into potholes.”
    Olivia considered his