Chapter 19
Olivia kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of wine. She deserved it tonight. The day had been long and hard, but
she’d navigated three meetings and nailed the presentation she’d worked on last night.
God, she was tired, though. Thirty-year-old Olivia had thought nothing of working till midnight and getting up again at five.
Thirty-nine-year-old Olivia found it much tougher.
After selecting tonight’s takeout—Indian—she scrolled through her notifications, wincing as she saw a string of messages on
the Davies sisters’ chat. The conversation started with a polite inquiry from Jessica asking if she was around for a video
call and ended with Ashley threatening to come over if she didn’t answer within the next five minutes.
Too exhausted to handle an in-person visit, Olivia quickly messaged them that now was good for a call. A minute later, she
had both sisters filling her computer screen.
“What’s so urgent?” she asked, perching on a stool at the island in her kitchen.
Ashley gaped at her. “We’re not supposed to be interested in the fact you saw Connor at the weekend?”
How could just the sound of his name make her heart jump, her belly flutter? “I’m more interested in why I ended up seeing him,” she retorted, giving Ashley a pointed stare.
“He asked about you,” her sister protested. “I didn’t know you taking Mia to the Tate was a secret.”
“You were meddling,” she said. “Just like you meddled in Nantucket—”
“Is now a good time to remind you that, by your own admission, you enjoyed your week with him?” Jessica interrupted.
Olivia sighed and reached for her glass of wine. “What happened in Nantucket was supposed to stay in Nantucket. Not spill
into my real life.”
“Er, Nantucket was still real life, Liv,” Jessica countered. “It’s entirely normal for human beings to go on holiday. And
have hot flings.”
“If we’re lucky enough,” Ashley added, following her statement with a sly smile.
That made Olivia pause. “Out with it, Ashley. What are you dying to tell me?”
“I may be about to embark upon a hot liaison of my own.”
Shame washed through Olivia. Connor had alluded to setting Ashley up, but she’d been so focused on work, phoning her sister
had been put on the back burner, something to be done when she had time. “Are we talking about Connor’s boss?”
“He told you, huh?” A grin split Ashley’s face. “I’ve got no illusions it will go anywhere, but I’m going to enjoy the hell
out of whatever chance I get.”
“Why is it not going anywhere?” Olivia demanded.
“He’s debonair, sophisticated, the sort you’d expect to have a twenty-something willowy blonde on his arm, not an overweight
nearly fifty-year-old.” Ashley waved a hand toward the screen. “Enough about me. What was it like seeing Connor again? And
we want the truth.”
Too much. Too intense, too familiar. Too easy to remember how alive she’d felt in his company. But if she admitted that, her meddling
sisters would set her up again, and she couldn’t handle a Connor-shaped distraction. “It was a shock to see him with a daughter.”
That, at least, was the truth.
“Ah, yes, Ellie.” Jessica smiled. “Mia was over the moon to meet her. Said she was ‘well cool.’”
“She’s a sweetheart, but that’s not the point—”
“The point is Connor isn’t the immature, irresponsible playboy you’re desperate to pigeonhole him as,” Ashley cut in.
“I don’t . . . okay, maybe I did think that in the beginning,” she admitted. “But no, the point is, he kept a huge, really
important part of himself back from me.”
“Can you blame him?” Ashley said. “You kept insisting it was sex only, a holiday fling.”
“I see you’re on the side of Team Connor now that he’s set you up.” Olivia couldn’t keep the hurt out of her voice.
“I’m on your side. That’s why it upsets me when you lie to yourself about how much you like him. You wore his bracelet for a month after
you came back,” Ashley added in a softer tone. “You have feelings that you’re denying, Liv. Why else are you so upset he didn’t
tell you about Ellie?”
Olivia looked away from the screen and grabbed her wine, giving herself a moment to compose her spiraling thoughts. “I’ll
admit to having more feelings than I expected,” she said finally. “And to finding it hard to say no when he asked if we could
continue seeing each other.” Sighs of disappointment echoed from the computer screen. “I have very good reasons for doing
that,” she continued before they could butt in, “so I’d appreciate it if you could help make this as painless as possible
and not interfere from now on.”
“Damn, I hate it when you show your vulnerable side,” Ashley muttered. “Makes it impossible to disagree with you.”
“Then I should do it more often,” she countered dryly. “When are you seeing Aaron again?”
“Wednesday.” Ashley gave her a coy smile. “He’s going to cook for me. Imagine that, having a personal chef.”
Olivia’s phone dinged with the notification that her takeout was on its way, and she experienced a sharp pang of sadness.
“Shit, I didn’t mean that to sound like a dig, a reminder of Connor.” Ashley heaved a sigh. “I’m just in that giddy first
phase of a crush. It’ll blow over.”
“I hope it doesn’t. I hope it works out for you, hope that he realizes that being with someone who’s warm, funny, articulate,
and wise is far more satisfying than dating arm candy.” Olivia looked at Jessica. “I promise to take Mia out again, but it
can’t be with Connor and Ellie, so please make sure she knows that. I think . . . I think continuing to see him will hurt
both of us in the long run.”
She said goodbye to them, and when the chicken jalfrezi arrived, she ate it at the island, washed it down with the rest of
her wine, then took a long shower.
When she finally crawled into bed, she found she had two messages on her phone, both from Connor.
How did the presentation go?
BTW, in case my number isn’t saved in your phone, this is the hot chef you met in Nantucket.
He’d remembered. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips as her fingers typed out her response.
Presentation was good, thank you for asking, hot chef.
She was about to put her phone on silent when a notification popped up on the screen.
You nailing it was never in doubt.
PS: Does this mean you still think I’m hot?
She shouldn’t encourage him.
You know you are.
His reply was instantaneous.
The only opinion I’m interested in is yours.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headboard. She was tired; her defenses were too weak for her to do the sensible
thing and push him away.
Yes, I still think you’re hot.
Suddenly Connor’s name flashed on the caller ID.
Her heart let out an almighty thump and her thumb hovered over the screen. Accept the call or let it go into voicemail?
Connor had no fucking clue what he was doing, phoning Olivia at eleven o’clock at night. He’d wanted to talk to her all day,
tell her he wasn’t prepared to give up on them so easily, ask her how her meeting had gone, reassure himself that her spending
Sunday with him and Ellie hadn’t mucked up the presentation she’d been so concerned about. Instead, he’d played by her rules
and kept it distant by messaging.
But then she’d admitted she still found him attractive, and common sense had flown out the window.
The phone kept ringing. Any minute now, it was going to go to voicemail, and he hadn’t even planned what to say to her if
she picked up, never mind in a blasted voicemail.
“Hi, Connor.”
His heart rattled against his ribs. “You answered.”
“Was I not supposed to?”
“Figured there was a high chance you’d ignore me, maybe even block me.”
“Probably should have done both.” She sighed. “I thought we said goodbye yesterday.”
“I wanted to hear how your presentation went.”
“You already found out via text.”
“Maybe I also wanted to hear your voice.”
“You heard it yesterday.”
She had an answer for everything. “Fine. I phoned to tell you I’m lying on my bed wishing you were with me.” He lowered his
voice: “I’m thinking of all the things I’d like to do to you, with you.”
Silence; just the rustle of sheets, the sound of her breathing. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“I miss being with you, Livvy. Miss talking to you.”
“I . . . don’t know what else to say. We’ve been through this. You know my concerns.”
“You’re scared of hurting me, but I’m a big boy. I don’t need you to protect me. As for resenting you because your work will
always come first, being second best isn’t new for me.” He paused and regrouped, determined not to sound as desperate as he
felt. “You have your work, Livvy. I have Ellie. We both have commitments and responsibilities that mean we’re not free like
we were in Nantucket. But we can still talk on the phone.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to say goodbye. I want to be someone you can call when you’ve had a shit day. Someone who’s allowed
to check in on you now and again, remind you to take a break. I want to be the person you can vent to about Stuart or laugh
with about whatever the hell you found funny during the day. And if you didn’t find anything funny, I want to give you that
laughter, because, trust me, between working in a restaurant and being dad to an eight-year-old, I’ve got a vast supply of
dumb anecdotes.” He paused, wondering if any of this was getting through to her. “What do you say, Livvy? Will you be my phone
friend?”
He held his breath, heart pounding, everything inside him tense.
“God, Connor, you always were impossible to say no to.”
“Yet you continue to try,” he countered, feeling his shoulders come down from his ears, his heart begin to slow. “Tell me
about Tabby. How cute is she?”
She made a little sound like a sigh of pleasure. “Impossibly cute. She’s got Jessica’s eyes, Nick’s cheeky smile.” Her voice
changed, became sad. “Work has been so full on, though, I’ve not seen as much of her as I’d like.”
It was the first time he’d heard her regret working so much. “Why is this promotion so important to you?”