over her. Plus, since the regular season had officially kicked off the weekend after the gala, it wasn’t like Colin would be at home longer than to sleep at night for the next five or so months. I did, however, return in time to support my husband and the rest of the team for the home opener, which was apparently when Oliver and this other guy saw me on TV.
“I learned long ago not to worry about that kind of stuff,” I replied matter-of-factly. “As long as I know it’s not anything I’m doing or the way I’m presenting myself publicly that is provoking people to make negative or derogatory comments, then it’s on them, not me. I can’t control their thoughts, words, or actions, and I usually choose to ignore it. Do you know how many times I’ve seen on social media women making catty comments about me not being good enough for Colin? Or that the only reason he married me was because I grew up with famous parents that would help advance his celebrity status? I’d spend my entire life responding to that nonsense if I did.”
I paused briefly as I turned into the driveway of the second house we were touring as a possible location for the MH home, giving him a moment to think about what I’d said. After shifting the car into park and turning off the engine, I twisted to face him and offered a grateful smile. “But I really appreciate you sticking up for me. You didn’t have to do that . . .” My voice trailed off, but before he had a chance to speak, I added in a breathy whisper, “Most people wouldn’t have.”
“I normally wouldn’t have, but it was you,” he blurted out while staring down at his fidgeting hands in his lap. His beard didn’t hide the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as his words hung heavy in the tight confines of my car, the silence stretching on until he added, “Even if you are rebellious, Rizzo, you don’t deserve to be degraded like that.”
Laughter danced in his honey-colored eyes as they lifted to meet mine from behind his glasses, and when I noticed the endearing pink flush surface across his cheeks, warmth blossomed inside my chest and my entire body relaxed. I’d been a little worried, because when I first picked him up at his apartment, he’d seemed incredibly uncomfortable and nervous in my presence. The two other times we’d been around each other, he’d definitely come off as a little quirky, possibly even a bit eccentric, but not straight-up stiff and a whole-lot anxious like the first couple of hours we’d spent together that morning. There was no way we were going to be able to work together with that kind of tension surrounding us all the time, but after I’d told him a few funny things that happened during my trip to Michigan and asked him about his flight and getting settled into his new place, he’d finally started to unwind a bit, which was what led us to the story of the Peach Man.
“Well next time, you can tell him that Rizzo doesn’t smell like peaches. She doesn’t even like to eat them,” I joked as I tossed my keys into my purse and opened the car door, stepping out into the sunny, late-September morning. I thought I heard him mumble something about oranges and ice cream as I shut the door behind me, but when his head popped up on the other side of the sedan, he simply grinned and motioned for me to lead the way toward the front door.
“Maybe it would help if I wrote out a list of the pros and cons of each house so that we can compare them side-by-side. This flipping back and forth between the listings on the screen is confusing me,” I suggested to Oliver as I pushed the iPad aside and grabbed my planner and a pen from my purse.
Even in the age of technology that we lived in, where a tablet, phone or even a watch could do any and everything you could possibly need it to short of launching a shuttle into space, I enjoyed actually writing things down on paper. Lists, letters, reminders—all of it I handwrote instead of punching it into an
“I learned long ago not to worry about that kind of stuff,” I replied matter-of-factly. “As long as I know it’s not anything I’m doing or the way I’m presenting myself publicly that is provoking people to make negative or derogatory comments, then it’s on them, not me. I can’t control their thoughts, words, or actions, and I usually choose to ignore it. Do you know how many times I’ve seen on social media women making catty comments about me not being good enough for Colin? Or that the only reason he married me was because I grew up with famous parents that would help advance his celebrity status? I’d spend my entire life responding to that nonsense if I did.”
I paused briefly as I turned into the driveway of the second house we were touring as a possible location for the MH home, giving him a moment to think about what I’d said. After shifting the car into park and turning off the engine, I twisted to face him and offered a grateful smile. “But I really appreciate you sticking up for me. You didn’t have to do that . . .” My voice trailed off, but before he had a chance to speak, I added in a breathy whisper, “Most people wouldn’t have.”
“I normally wouldn’t have, but it was you,” he blurted out while staring down at his fidgeting hands in his lap. His beard didn’t hide the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as his words hung heavy in the tight confines of my car, the silence stretching on until he added, “Even if you are rebellious, Rizzo, you don’t deserve to be degraded like that.”
Laughter danced in his honey-colored eyes as they lifted to meet mine from behind his glasses, and when I noticed the endearing pink flush surface across his cheeks, warmth blossomed inside my chest and my entire body relaxed. I’d been a little worried, because when I first picked him up at his apartment, he’d seemed incredibly uncomfortable and nervous in my presence. The two other times we’d been around each other, he’d definitely come off as a little quirky, possibly even a bit eccentric, but not straight-up stiff and a whole-lot anxious like the first couple of hours we’d spent together that morning. There was no way we were going to be able to work together with that kind of tension surrounding us all the time, but after I’d told him a few funny things that happened during my trip to Michigan and asked him about his flight and getting settled into his new place, he’d finally started to unwind a bit, which was what led us to the story of the Peach Man.
“Well next time, you can tell him that Rizzo doesn’t smell like peaches. She doesn’t even like to eat them,” I joked as I tossed my keys into my purse and opened the car door, stepping out into the sunny, late-September morning. I thought I heard him mumble something about oranges and ice cream as I shut the door behind me, but when his head popped up on the other side of the sedan, he simply grinned and motioned for me to lead the way toward the front door.
“Maybe it would help if I wrote out a list of the pros and cons of each house so that we can compare them side-by-side. This flipping back and forth between the listings on the screen is confusing me,” I suggested to Oliver as I pushed the iPad aside and grabbed my planner and a pen from my purse.
Even in the age of technology that we lived in, where a tablet, phone or even a watch could do any and everything you could possibly need it to short of launching a shuttle into space, I enjoyed actually writing things down on paper. Lists, letters, reminders—all of it I handwrote instead of punching it into an
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