The Introvert's Guide to Speed Dating (The Introvert's Guide 2)

“Oh, hi!” She held out her hand for me and I shook it.

“Lily runs the Zumba and Pilates classes,” Sebastian explained.

“Oh, cool. Would you mind answering a few questions about those for me some time this week?” I asked hopefully.

“I have ten minutes before I have to set up the next class and my studio is right in here. Does that work?”

Seb nodded. “Staff kitchen is just down this hall and to the left. You can’t miss it, it’s a big red door. I’ll cook some chicken for us to go with our lunch.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s fine.” I blinked and quickly had to formulate some questions in my head. “Lily, do you mind if I take a minute to write some questions down?” I asked as she walked ahead of me into her studio.

One wall was entirely made of mirrors. Yoga mats were rolled into a pile in front of the mirrors, and a laptop connected to a speaker was standing off to the other corner. The pale pink walls were adorned with fairy lights and motivational posters that said shit like, “Mind over matter!” and, “Hustle for that muscle!”

I felt mildly guilty for the pizza I’d eaten for breakfast.

Only mildly, though.

I quickly wrote down some questions for Lily while she laid out some yoga mats, then rant through the interview. They were as basic as they could be—what got her into Zumba and Pilates, how she came to work here, what she did in her classes, what health benefits both workouts had, and finally, when all her classes were.

With that done, I handed her some spare photo releases I had in my purse and asked if she’d hand them out to her Pilates class so Sydney could stop by quickly and snap a couple of photos. She agreed, and I left with a wave.

Well, it was unexpected, but that was something else crossed off my list today. Granted it was something I’d never even had on my list, but still. Her interview wasn’t long and would fill in a small filler space.

If I was honest, I had no idea how I was going to pull this all together. I just hoped that when it came to laying it out, it would work.

“Hey, London!”

I turned at the sound of Oliver’s voice. “Hi. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you worked Sundays.”

“The girls are on Sundays. I just finished up with the under-twelves.” He smiled, his green-blue eyes twinkling. “Under eights are after lunch.”

“Oh, my condolences.”

“Save those for the under sixteens tomorrow night, would you?”

“Duly noted.” Laughing, I put my notebook and pen inside my purse. “Uh, where’s the staff kitchen? I’m supposed to meet Seb there, but I forgot where he told me to go.”

Oliver tilted his head in one direction. “I’m going there now. I’ll show you. Doesn’t Leo have basketball this afternoon?”

“He does. I’m going to stop by and see him. Probably have Sydney take some photos while I’m there, if that’s okay.”

“No problem. He took some in my class this morning. He’s good, eh?”

“The best. Why he works for the paper and not himself is a mystery to everyone.” I shrugged. “He just gets it, you know?”

“Some people do. Personally, I couldn’t take a photo of a fruit bowl without messing it up.”

I laughed as he pushed open a door marked ‘Staff Kitchen.’

Ah.

Yeah.

I probably could have found that.

There were worse things in life that being escorted around by a hot British guy, though, so whatever.

“Found this one wandering about the corridors,” Oliver said to Seb. “Did you lose her somewhere?”

“Ha, ha, ha.” I nudged him out of my way and walked over to the table where Seb had laid out our lunch. “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you?”

“I do try.” He grinned and pulled a Tupperware box from the fridge. The contents looked like the kind of lunch I sent Leo to school with, and I bit back a grin when I saw the prepacked cheese that Leo loved. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Nah, you’re fine,” Seb replied, waving his fork. “We’re taking a break for lunch. You can join us.”

“Do you mind?”

I shook my head, using a napkin to cover my mouth. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Oliver joined us at the table and cracked open his lunch box. “Don’t say a word,” he said to me, eyeing me. “We don’t all have girlfriends to batch make us pasta salads.”

Seb grinned.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I lied, reaching for my bottle of water. “I was just wondering if you were peeking through my kitchen window when I made my son’s lunch this morning.”

Sebastian choked on a laugh.

“Now who’s the funny one?” Oliver said wryly. “There’s nothing wrong with cheese snacks and a lunchable. Although they aren’t as good as the ones at home.”

“I am amazed that you’re eating a lunchable.”