The Writer's Assistant (ManxMan)

Chapter 8: Polka dots

A/N: 12.09.22

Hey everyone! New update~! I've I've reading your comments and feedbacks and am really glad you guys like the story so far (and find Oliver funny 🤣 I agree, protect his man at all costs).

If you'd like access to quicker updates, you can join my Patreon! The link is in my Wattpad bio. Will be posting chapter 11 very soon over there 🌟 You also get access to The Red District (Mafia MxM +18 content). You'll find lots of sneak peeks on my IG and Pinterest :)

Question: how many books do you read a month?

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Camilia sent me the date and time for the interview. She also sent me the questions that they would ask Oliver, but I had a feeling he wouldn't look at them if I showed them to him. I kept them saved in my notes just in case.

I showed up at his door on Wednesday. I was slowly getting used to his funky outfits. Today, he was wearing a pink and purple polka-dot shirt and blue pajama pants. The shirt stretched across his shirt and looked a bit too tight around his biceps, stretching the fabric. I tried my best not to let my gaze linger too long.

"Good morning, Oliver," I greeted politely. He raised his cup.

"Good afternoon in advance and an early goodnight."

I blinked, then smiled.

Only Oliver, I thought to myself.

He had a strange sense of humor, but humor nonetheless.

"You should get changed. We have a busy day ahead of us."

He cocked a brow. "Do we?"

I nodded. "We do."

"Care to elaborate?"

"I found a nice donut shop that I want to show you."

He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms across his sturdy chest with a serious gaze.

"A donut shop?" He asked, needing more details.

My smile widened. "Yes."

"What's it called? There can't be a donut shop in this city that I don't know of."

The information was both impressive yet worrisome. How was I going to tell him that there wasn't really a donut shop and that I was trying to get him to a barbershop instead?

There was only one possibility. Lie.

My eyes darted to his shirt.

"Polka... Donut. The donut shop is called Polka Donut." I tried not to cringe, hoping I wasn't being too obvious. He rubbed his beard in contemplation.

"Polka Donut?"

"Uh, yes." I quickly tried to make something up. "Because donuts are shaped like polka-dots."

His gaze hardened and I squeezed my hands behind my back, feeling my palms dampen with sweat. Then his scrunched brows relaxed and his eyes brightened.

"Ohhh, because they're both circles," he said. "Brilliant! I like the concept."

I felt my chest deflate with relief.

"Just give me a minute. I need to look for my car keys."

"No worries, I brought mine," I quickly said.

I couldn't let him find out that a place called Polka Donuts didn't exist. I didn't like lying, but I had to lure him to the barbershop somehow. Besides, I couldn't forget what Camilia said about how Oliver didn't enjoy driving. Fortunately, Oliver didn't suspect anything. He seemed glad that he didn't have to drive, and we took the elevator downstairs.