16. Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Jemima
After being up late last night, brainstorming ideas for Oliver, I got to work late this morning. Now I’m spending the last half hour finalizing the design concepts for Oliver Lincoln. After some googling to figure out how to sketch and formalize it, I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out. I won’t lie, Harvey’s presence and his impeccable organizational skills have inspired me to improve, or at least give it a shot. He’s impressively successful for someone his age, so if he has a method, I want to follow it. Not that I’d admit that to him.
“Ready?” I ask, knocking on his door, and notice how clean the floor is. He’s already completed the tasks I assigned him. I’m halfway through the finances, while Danny has been absent lately. It worries me, but mostly it annoys me. He should be helping with the business, not leaving it for Harvey to sort out. Danny was great in the beginning, but now, getting more than an hour's work out of him is a struggle.
Harvey looks up from his keyboard. “Hang on, just sending an email.”
I wait, trying not to check him out. But it’s useless, with his clean, masculine scent playing tricks on my brain. His well-fitted navy suit, crisp white shirt, and yellow tie create a striking mix that makes my skin prickle.
A few minutes later, he finishes and strides toward me. “I’ll drive.”
“Fine.” I don’t have it in me to argue. Besides, he knows the way to Oliver's office, and I’m in no hurry for him to see my car. It’s a mess, littered with crumbs from Chad and old coffee cups from me. I’ll get around to cleaning it… eventually.
As we pass Molly, I tell her, “We’ll be back later.”
“Take your time!” she calls out, waving us off.
In the parking lot, I follow his lead, though it’s not hard to spot his car. I remember the color from over a month ago when he was leaning up against it waiting to talk to me.
The matte black Lamborghini stands out, and up close, I recognize the badge from one of Chad's toy cars.
A boy's toy, certainly not family friendly.
He opens the passenger door for me, and I slide into the luxurious leather seat. This isn’t a family car. There’s no way Chad's car seat would fit in here, but I can’t help imagining his excitement if he saw this car. Honestly, I’m impressed myself. I mentally slap myself for the thought.
When Harvey starts the car, country music blares through the speakers. He dives for the volume and turns it down.
My lips curl into a smile. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a country music fan.”
He leans back into his seat and starts to drive. “What did you expect?”
I tilt my head slightly, a playful smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Techno, maybe trance.”
He chuckles as he backs out of the parking spot smoothly.
“Why country?” I raise an eyebrow.
He shrugs. “My grandma always played it at her place.”
“So, you grew up with it,” I say, my tone softening as I lean back in the seat.
“Yeah. What about you? What kind of music do you like?” His eyes glance over at me for a moment before focusing on the road.
I can’t help the giggle that slips out of me. “Guess.”
“Jazz?” he suggests with a teasing grin.
I frown, shaking my head. “No.”
“Choir music,” he adds, the corners of his mouth curling up.
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “Stop messing around. Take a real guess.”
“I am,” he says with a smirk, not looking at me as he focuses on driving.
“Country.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Nope. I enjoy it, but I’m a 90s girl at heart.”
He raises an eyebrow, peering at me. “You must have some interesting stories.”
I smirk. “My lips are sealed.”
His eyes glow with mischief as he chuckles. “We’ll see about that. I’ll get them out of you sooner or later.”
I stay silent, my senses heightened in such a small space. His scent grows stronger, my heart beats louder in my ears, and the car’s smooth yet powerful ride is an experience I won’t get again so I simply sit back and enjoy the purr of it.
Staring out the window, an easy smile forms on my lips as we pass familiar streets. We soon arrive at another parking lot. Before I unbuckle, Harvey’s hand lands on my knee, squeezing it firmly.
“Are you okay?”
I turn to him, ignoring the twitch in my thigh where his hand rests. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re quiet.”
I can’t deny it, but I won’t tell him I was thinking about Chad being in his car. I don’t want him offering him a ride. Keeping them apart is better for all of us. No one will end up hurt that way. “I’m just nervous.”
“You? Nervous?” He sounds genuinely surprised, his eyes briefly flicking to me before returning to the front.
“Yeah, is it that shocking?” A slight laugh escapes me, though it’s more out of nerves than humor.
“You usually seem unfazed by everything.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. “I need Oliver to like this.”
He stares at me, this time with a look of understanding. “You really want this job.”
I meet his gaze, my heart beating a little faster, and nod. “Yes, I do.”
“Are you confident you’ve done your best?”
I don’t hesitate as the word comes out easily. “Yes.”
His hand moves higher, squeezing just above my knee. “Then you’ll be fine.”
He’s right, and his words calm me. What I’ve put together meets all Oliver’s requirements. There’s nothing to be worried about.
“Thanks.”
His hand slips from my leg as he climbs out of the car, coming around to open my door again. This gentlemanly behavior is making my head spin.
“Who taught you that?” I ask. It’s another reason he’s a good male figure for Chad.
“I watched my father do it for my mom.”
Whenever he talks about his family, it hits me in the heart. It’s not hard to connect with him. It’s easier to keep him at a distance when he’s not sharing personal stories with me, especially since not every family is as dysfunctional as the one I’ve created for Chad. I never intended it, but it kills me that he doesn’t get the family he deserves.
“Your dad sounds like a good man.” I smirk, a brief, amused expression flickering across my face, but I shake it off. Forcing myself back into business mode, I clear my throat, straightening up. “Now show me where Oliver's office is.”
“Let’s go, boss lady.”
He leads me into a limestone building with arched windows. Inside, it’s painted gray with a frosted glass roof and light wood flooring that brightens the space. The arrangement of the art is elegant, not too crowded or sparse.
We wander to the offices in the back and hear Oliver’s voice as we approach.
Entering Oliver’s spacious office, I notice the sofas, paintings, and large desk.
He waves us in, and I take a seat on the sofa, setting up my file on the coffee table while Oliver finishes his call. Harvey leans in close to my ear, and I bite the inside of my cheek to suppress a shiver from his proximity.
“What would you like to drink?” Harvey asks.
“I don’t—”
“You do,” he says, cutting me off, his face inches from mine. To get him to back off, I say, “Gin.”
He nods and steps away. I breathe easier and concentrate on setting up my proposal. I can’t help overhearing Oliver's tense voice.
“Why is it taking this long to find him? Impossible. Keep digging until you do.”
I sit in silence, shocked at hearing Oliver raise his voice. My face remains blank to maintain my professionalism, but inside I’m wondering what that was about.
Harvey returns with a glass tumbler, and I take a sip before setting it down as Oliver joins us.
“Thanks,” Oliver mutters as Harvey hands him a drink, taking a seat across from me, his eyes on my setup.
He whistles, looking over the documents I put together. “Nice. I thought only my brothers were this anal.”
I laugh, meeting Oliver’s gaze. He has a similar look to Harvey, but his eyes carry more mystery. Harvey, on the other hand, is cocky yet annoyingly charming. I never thought I’d be attracted to someone like him.
Harvey sits beside me, but I ignore the warmth that naturally radiates from him, focusing on my job.
“Glad to see you’re doing better, Jem. You gave us a scare the other night” Oliver says.
“Thanks and I appreciate you giving me this opportunity.” I try to ignore that he’s talking about my fainting spell and stick to business.
“So, show me your concept.”
Oliver shuffles forward in his chair. His enthusiasm calms me down for the first time in twenty-four hours.
I start with the timeline, colors, lighting, music, layout, food and drink list, and security plans.
“This is impressive.” Oliver whistles once more.
“Is there anything you don’t like?” I ask as butterflies swarm my stomach. Is he being polite to appease me?
“No, it’s exactly what I wanted,” Oliver replies.
Reading his soft expression, I nod, hoping he’s being truthful. “I need the guest list and any other details you have.”
Oliver smiles boyishly. “Sure, I’ll email them over.”
“Can I walk through and take some photos and measurements?” I ask.
Oliver raises an eyebrow at my full glass of gin and tonic. “Let's have a drink first. You work too much, like my brothers. Your energy is making me nervous.”
A giggle bubbles out of me. “I’m not that organized.”
“Not like these freaks.” Oliver inclines his head toward Harvey.
I laugh harder, glancing at Harvey, who doesn’t seem fazed. If anything, he looks warmly at his brother.
“She’s not,” Harvey says bluntly, but not unkindly.
I’m not offended. Harvey says it like it is, and it helps me relax into the chair and sip my drink. I give myself a moment to enjoy my hard work.
After another sip, I put my drink down, wanting to stay sharp. I’m lucky if I can handle two drinks these days. The boys finish their drinks, and we head back the way we came. Oliver talks about the building’s history and art.
“Sorry about my call earlier. There’s an artist I’m trying to find,” he says bitterly.
His earlier call comes to mind. “They don’t want to be found?”
“Clearly not. But I will. I want to feature them in my new gallery.”
“Which gallery is that?” I ask.
“I haven’t acquired it yet,” Oliver admits.
“The owners want to sell but won’t sell to him,” Harvey explains quietly.
I frown. “Why?”
We reach the main entrance of the gallery, where a large body sculpture takes up the main view. We stand in a circle in front of it.
His face rumples with an annoyed expression. “They think I’m not mature enough.”
“Isn’t Harvey the youngest?” I ask, my eyes flicking between them.
Harvey tilts his head toward me, his jaw working in a tight circle. “Hey. I’m proving I’m a lot more than just a little brother.”
I shake my head. “I’m just trying to understand the issue.”
“Yes, I’m the second youngest,” Oliver says. “But like Harvey, I’m single. The gallery owners want to sell it to a new version of themselves.”
Questions keep gnawing at me. “Which is?”
A shadow comes over his face. “A happily married young couple who’s passionate about art,” Oliver explains.
Harvey’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re not even dating.”
Oliver flashes a sad smirk. “I’m well aware.”
I roll my lips at the tension. It’s cute brotherly banter, but at the same time, I get a twinge of pain when I’m reminded Chad will never have a sibling, and how I missed out on having one myself. I had planned a big family with my ex-husband, but things changed after Chad. Plus, conceiving Chad wasn’t easy, and now I’ve given up hope.
“Do we need to leave the sculpture here?” I ask, trying to shift the focus.
Oliver sighs as he looks at the large piece. “No, I can move it. Why?”
I point to the pieces around it. “If we place it off-center, it’ll still stand out, but the other pieces will be visible too.”
He makes a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. “I’ll have it moved.” His eyes return to me.
“Will you be here on Friday?” I ask.
“Yeah, but if not, I can give you a key.”
I blink in surprise at his casual offer. The ease with which he’s willing to hand over the keys reminds me of a time when trust was more freely given and received. God, I miss those days. Now, I’m burdened by past betrayals, constantly second- guessing people’s intentions. It’s a heavy way to live. I crave the lightness I once had, before trust became a risk.
“I just need to let the suppliers in,” I explain.
“My plan is to be here, in and out all day, unless something urgent comes up,” he replies.
I nod. “That should be plenty of time, but I’ll confirm on Friday,” I say. “I’ll take some measurements and photos now, then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Take your time. Harvey and I will wait here,” Oliver says.
I begin to move around the gallery, taking in the space with a critical eye. As I work, I catch sight of Harvey out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching me with a mischievous look that sends my heart pitter-pattering against my ribcage. His presence is a constant distraction, making it hard to focus.
“All done?” he asks as I finish my last note.
I nod subtly, then shift my gaze back to Oliver's.
“Thanks for your time. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Nice seeing you again, Jem,” Oliver replies, shaking Harvey’s hand before they embrace briefly in a brotherly hug. I can’t help imagining them as little boys, full of energy and trouble.
Harvey and I walk back to his car, and he surprises me by heading to my side and holding the door open for me again. There’s a comforting ease between us, a natural flow that makes it easy to let go and allow him to take the lead. It’s a rare feeling for me, and I can’t help but savor it.
In the car, I start organizing the delivery schedule for the event on Saturday on my phone. This time, it’s not because I have to, but because I’m genuinely excited about the event. Oliver’s approval has sparked a new confidence in me; it flicks a switch of happiness in me. A new passion for work… for life. This feels like a new beginning.
“Take a break.” Harvey’s voice pulls my head up from my planning.
“I want to get this done as soon as possible,” I insist, my voice laced with urgency.
His forehead creases with worry. “I’ll help when we get to the office.”
A sigh escapes my lips as I let his offer sink in. Surprisingly, I don’t mind sharing the workload with him. “I know, but I’d like to get started now.”
“You’re excited, aren’t you?” he says with a soft laugh.
I chuckle in return, the sound light and unforced. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes.” He grins. “You’re smiling, and your eyes are so bright.”
“Okay, enough with the compliments. You’ll make me sick,” I tease.
“I like seeing you like this, happy,” he says with a chuckle. “It makes you nicer to me.”
I make a shushing sound, trying to reassure him. “I’m nice and I smile.”
A flicker of a smile passes his lips. “Only with people you trust.”
His blunt honesty stuns me. I’m at a loss for words, caught off guard by how accurately he sees through me.
Just as he’s about to say more, the car’s monitor flashes with an incoming call. The display shows, Esme. And a sweet, young voice fills the car.
“Esme.”
“Hi, Mr. Lincoln. There are some papers I need you to sign,” the voice says. I can’t help but wonder how many women he works with and if any feel the way I do about him.
Stories about rich guys and their personal assistants flash through my mind. I know it’s none of my business, but curiosity eats at me.
“Send them to my email. I’ll sign them in about ten minutes,” he responds.
“I also need you to come in and get your new suit altered,” she adds.
He needs someone to organize his life, I think with a touch of irritation.
“Put it in my calendar, and I’ll come in,” he says, then ends the call.
Biting my tongue, I can’t help but blurt out. “Is that your mom?”
The jealous tone that seeps into my voice even surprises me. I know it’s not his mom, but I’m rattled by how easily he shakes me up. He seems too good to be true, and I just want to catch him in a lie.
“No, that’s my personal assistant,” he replies, glancing at me with a hint of amusement.
I tilt my head to look at his profile. “And you can’t organize your own suits?”
The muscle in his jaw tightens slightly. “I can, but delegating tasks like that allows me to focus on important projects.”
I’ve read about how successful people delegate minor tasks to stay productive. Why did I let it bother me? Why did I say anything at all? Because I’m jealous.
Harvey’s calm explanation only makes my earlier outburst feel more ridiculous. He’s just being practical, and I need to remind myself that there’s nothing wrong with that.