11. Oliver
CHAPTER 11
OLIVER
T he clack of keyboards is like a metronome in my office, the sound somehow comforting and familiar. It’s late, but the glow of my screen doesn’t bother me. I’ve always been at home in the hum of business, the steady beat of progress.
But now there’s a new element in this familiar symphony. Nora.
She sits across from me, her brow furrowed in concentration as she pores over the legal documents I’ve handed her. It’s only been a few days since she joined my team, yet her impact is undeniable. She brings with her an air of competence that seems to elevate everyone around her.
Maybe it’s the lawyer in her, or just Nora being Nora, but whatever it is, I’m glad for it.
I catch myself staring at the way her fingers dance across the pages, making notes with a precision that’s almost artistic. The memory of those same fingers brushing mine, years ago, sends an unbidden warmth through my chest. I shake my head slightly, trying to dislodge the resurgence of a college crush that has no place here, not now.
“Oliver, do you have a moment?” Ben’s voice snaps me out of my reverie, and I nod, swiveling in my chair to face him.
“Of course, what’s up?”
“Prep for tonight’s meeting. We should go over the final points before the buyer arrives.” He’s right; this deal could be big for us — a game-changer even.
“Let’s gather the team.”
As we convene in the conference room, I notice the ease with which Nora fits into our dynamic. She asks pointed questions and offers sharp insights, and when she disagrees with a strategy, she does so with a diplomacy that even the most seasoned of us could learn from. Her presence is invigorating, challenging, and I find myself having to refocus more often than I’d like to admit.
“All right, everyone,” I begin, trying to shake off the distraction. “Let’s walk through the presentation one last time. Remember, this buyer is precise and detail-oriented. We need to anticipate their questions and have clear, concise answers ready.”
The meeting progresses smoothly. Ben leads the charge, his charisma working as well in the boardroom as it does anywhere else. I chime in with specifics about the property, leveraging the rapport I’ve built with the buyer over weeks of careful negotiation. And then there’s Nora, her input razor-sharp, her legal expertise providing a reassuring backbone to our strategy.
As we wrap up, I feel a surge of anticipation for the meeting ahead. This is it — the culmination of months of work. And thanks to my team — thanks to Nora — we’re ready.
“Good work, everyone. Let’s close this deal.”
The whole meeting, adrenaline thrums through my veins, a reminder that tens of millions of dollars are on the line. The moment the buyer’s pen hits the final page of the contract, sealing the deal, a ripple of energy surges through the room. I’m already on my feet, shaking hands vigorously. The pent-up tension from months of negotiations releases in a sudden burst, and my heart is racing like I’ve just crossed the finish line of a marathon.
“Congratulations, Oliver.” The buyer grins at me. “Your team has done an exceptional job.”
“Thank you.” I turn to look at Nora, her eyes bright, reflecting a shared sense of accomplishment. Ben claps me on the back, his grin wide enough to split his face.
The moment the buyer and his team are gone, Ben turns to the rest of us. “This calls for a celebration! What do you say?”
A chorus of agreement fills the space, but it’s my voice that shocks them all. “I’m in.” It feels strange saying it out loud, almost alien. But after what we’ve achieved, it seems only right.
“Really?” Ben arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “The Oliver Wolfe? Stepping out of the office? This I have to see.”
Laughter ripples through the group as they gather their belongings and head out. We spill into the elevator, a little cramped but buzzing with electricity. The doors slide open at the lobby, and we make our way toward the exit, the city lights beckoning us to celebrate.
Once we’re outside, Ben falls into step next to me and lowers his voice. “You sure you’re not just tagging along for a certain someone?” His gaze flicks subtly toward Nora, who’s laughing at something one of the other team members said.
“Of course not.” The words are sharper than I intended. “It’s about the team, Ben. You know that.”
My attempt at nonchalance probably isn’t fooling anyone, least of all Ben.
“All right, man,” he says with a chuckle, holding up his hands in surrender. “Just curious. I always did think you two would have made a great couple.”
I frown. “She works for me.”
“Okay, okay.” He says it like that doesn’t matter one bit, and of course, it doesn’t to him.
We’ve grown closer over the years, going from acquaintances in college to the closest of friends, but in some ways, we’re still as different as can be.
Of course there’s a part of me that can’t deny the allure of spending time with Nora outside the confines of the office. But my work comes first, and I don’t have time for a relationship, so I shove any thoughts of touching her hand or tasting her lips as far down as they will go.
We stride into the bar, its warm glow enveloping us. The place is lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. I order a round for everyone, determined to show them a side of me they rarely see — the guy who can let loose and have fun, not just the CEO who’s married to his work.
“All right, everyone,” I announce, raising my glass. “To one deal closed and a future that just keeps getting brighter!”
“Cheers!” they echo, and for a moment, all professional barriers dissolve into the night.
Laughter bubbles around us as the group settles into the rhythm of the bar, like a record that’s found its groove. Though I’ve convinced myself that I need to keep my distance from Nora, there is one thing I need to talk to her about, and so I find myself inching closer to her.
“Hey, Nora.” I lean in, trying to sound casual. “You know, I couldn’t help but wonder… why didn’t you reach out when you moved back into town?”
She pauses, her glass hovering mid-air, and fixes me with a look — partly incredulous, partly wounded.
“Oliver.” She sets her drink down with a soft clink against the wood. “You stopped responding to my emails years ago. Why on earth would I reach out? I’m not gonna do that just to be ignored again.”
It’s like a punch to the gut. The noise of the bar fades into a dull roar behind her words. I had no idea she counted the time, that she noticed the silence between us. But she did. And it mattered.
“God, Nora, I—” My throat tightens, and I have to take a moment because it never occurred to me that my silence hurt her that much. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”
There’s a softness that overtakes her features, like the easing of a clenched fist.
“It’s okay. We both got caught up in our lives,” she says, and there’s forgiveness there but also a hint of distance — the span of years we let stretch between us.
Determined, I make a silent pledge; I’m going to spend tonight trying to bridge that gap.
“Can I buy you a drink? A peace offering of sorts and a toast to new beginnings?”
Her lips curl into a smile, hesitant but genuine. “Sure,” she agrees, and I feel a spark of hope light up inside me.
As we make our way to the bar, I ask her questions, digging into the parts of her life I’ve missed. What was law school like? What was her life in Seattle like? With each answer, she gives me more than just facts; she gives me glimpses of her passion, her drive, and the fire that’s been burning in her all these years.
“Seeing someone’s life turn around because you believed in them…” She trails off, shaking her head with a mix of wonder and pride. “There’s nothing quite like it.”
I nod, captivated. “Sounds like you’re doing exactly what you were meant to do.”
She’s about to answer when Ben takes the small karaoke stage in the corner of the bar. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he says into the microphone. “I’m gonna need a partner for my first song.”
“Count me in!” Nora takes a sip of her fresh drink, then abandons it and rushes to the stage.
I look after her longingly, glad to see her having a good time but disappointed that it’s no longer with me.
“Here we go!” Ben hollers, thrusting the mic toward Nora as the chosen track begins — a classic rock anthem that everyone seems to know the words to.
Nora’s voice is surprisingly strong and steady, harmonizing with Ben’s more boisterous tone. I find myself tapping my foot, the rhythm catching me off-guard.
She’s captivating up there, her laughter mingling with the melody, her hands gesturing theatrically with each line. And when she throws her head back, eyes closed, belting out the high notes, a part of me wants to be up there too, sharing in that uninhibited joy. But I remain anchored to my spot, content to watch the light play across her face, remembering why I felt like the only two options were to push her away or lose myself completely in her.
“Your turn next, Oliver!” someone yells from behind me, nudging me out of my reverie.
They’re all looking at me now, expectant grins on their faces. My heart rate picks up, not from stage fright, but from the prospect of joining Nora in that spotlight, reconnecting over shared laughter and off-key notes.
I’m about to push off the bar to stride over and pick a song, any song, when the sharp vibration of my phone cuts through the haze of celebration. It’s a potential buyer — a big fish I’ve been trying to reel in for weeks. Business before pleasure, isn’t that what they say?
“Sorry, guys, gotta take this,” I say, the words tasting sour as they leave my lips.
“Boo! You’re no fun!” The jeers follow me as I step out into the cool night air, distancing myself from the noise to answer the call.
But even as I do, I glance back through the window. Nora’s gaze meets mine just before I turn away, and the disappointment etched across her features punches the breath from my chest.
“Oliver Wolfe speaking,” I say into the phone, but it’s Nora’s crestfallen smile that echoes in my mind, making the hopeful victory of another successful business deal feel strangely hollow. After all these years, she’s still burrowing her way into my heart and seizing control.