4. Elliot
Chapter four
Elliot
I can’t do this. There’s no way I can spend the next three weeks with Olivia without one of us killing the other, especially now that she’s gotten this bold. I’m used to having the last laugh, but not anymore. This isn’t exactly a competition, but I refuse to lose to her.
What she said about me getting cold feet with love isn’t entirely accurate. It’s not that I’m afraid of hearing people talk about love—though I no longer believe in it—but I’m hesitant to watch her rub it in my face or see others act like they’ve cracked some code about it.
I don’t care what they have to say about love. Honestly, I’d love to drive back to my restaurant, but I owe it to my best friend to bring his sister home safely. So, I guess I’ll sit here, waiting, while she finishes her meeting with the event planner.
As I wait, I mentally plan tonight’s menu for my restaurant. I’ve been experimenting with grilled zucchini burgers for my vegetarian crowd, but I’m still unsure if the recipe is perfect. “You need to stop second-guessing everything you do, El, and just trust yourself,” my mother’s voice echoes in my head. “Look at how much you’ve already accomplished with your talent and your big heart.”
My mother is my biggest inspiration and support. She’s one of the reasons I returned to this town and opened one of my restaurants, even though I can hardly recall many happy memories here. Sure, I had fun with Daniel, but beyond that, there isn’t much for me here. Only my mother, besides Daniel, really knew the real me—the part of me that, though hidden, still craved happiness and something else I can’t quite place yet.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice Olivia strolling toward the car until she slams the door shut. She’s avoiding my gaze, and as much as I want her to, I can’t help but wonder if she still finds my presence intimidating.
“Can we go now?” I ask, trying to sound casual as she fastens her seatbelt.
Just when I think we’re in for another silent ride home, she finally speaks.
“We’re supposed to have meetings like this twice a week, so can we try to avoid seeing each other outside of those days?” she asks, though with Olivia, it feels more like a command than a question.
“We live in a small town, Ollie. I don’t want to see you either, but it’s impossible—especially with your brother’s wedding coming up.”
She lets out a mocking laugh, as if she can’t believe I’m using her brother as an excuse. By now, I’ve parked in front of her house, and she gets out without another word.
Leaning in through the window, she says, “You know, you could just say no. I understand you want to make a good impression, but I don’t think anyone will be too hurt if you turn down the invitation to be best man, especially since love isn’t something you understand.”
“Goodbye, Olivia. I hope we don’t run into each other soon,” I mutter, pulling the car into reverse and speeding away with a screech of tires. My frustration boils over as I head toward my restaurant. This is the second time she’s said this, and I’m fed up with everyone assuming they know more about love than I do.
I slam the car door, storm into the building, toss my jacket aside in irritation, and march straight to the kitchen. It’s a relief that we don’t open for another three hours. I dive into my usual stress-busting routine—chopping vegetables.
My solitude is interrupted when Aaron arrives. If there’s anyone besides Olivia who knows how to get under my skin, it’s him.
“Don’t you dare!” I warn before he even speaks.
“I was only going to say that if you’re going to take out your frustration in the kitchen, you might as well help us take out the trash too,” he teases with a smirk.
Aaron used to be my colleague when we were trying to make a living behind food trucks on beaches. When I needed a partner for this restaurant, he was the only person I trusted enough to help manage it. If I’d known he’d be this annoying, maybe I would’ve left him to supervise one of my city locations.
“Let’s just say being the best man isn’t as easy as I thought,” I sigh, dropping the knife onto the kitchen island.
“I thought it’d be easier with his beautiful blonde sister around,” Aaron quips, popping a carrot into his mouth. I’m tempted to ask how he heard about Ollie, but in this town, news travels fast.
Dragging my hand through my hair, I rip off the apron and storm toward my office, Aaron following closely behind.
“Let’s just say that Blondie is the biggest problem I’m dealing with over the next few weeks.”
“Wow, a woman who finally makes Elliot Sharp nervous? I always knew she’d be a feisty one,” he teases, and I don’t disagree.
“Can you help me put together a menu for Daniel’s wedding?” I ask. “It’ll be our gift to him.” He nods and leaves my office, humming a love tune, as if he’s about to compose a symphony rather than just a menu.
Finally alone, I try to focus on the financial records, but I can’t. Olivia is wrong about me. I do know what it’s like to love, and it started with her.
Although it was a long time ago, I still remember the first time I visited Daniel after school and spotted her reading in the corner. She didn’t notice me, and to this day, I’m not sure what she was reading. But watching her smile did something to my sixteen-year-old heart. I spent the next few months wrestling with whether I should tell Daniel that I had a crush on his fourteen-year-old sister.
But all of that was before I learned that love can leave you broken in ways words can’t express. Even after that, I foolishly fell in love again, and just when I thought I might finally find happiness, she disappeared too. So yes, I do know what love feels like, but I’m not willing to risk it again.
My phone blares loudly, jolting me out of my thoughts.
“Geez, Mother,” I groan into the receiver.
“That’s an interesting way to greet your mother, but I guess it’s better than saying, ‘You dummy,’ like last time.”
“Come on, Ma, I’ve told you a million times I was talking to one of my co-workers and had no idea I’d answered the phone,” I explain, though the incident happened over a year ago.
She laughs softly, and for a moment, I wish I could lay my head on her lap like I used to as a kid and tell her everything that’s bothering me.
“So, tell me, how does it feel to see Ollie again? Still on your hating spree?” she asks calmly.
“How long have you been waiting to ask that question?” I groan.
“Since the day I spotted her driving through town. Tell me, do you still hate each other?”
Hate . I don’t think that word is strong enough to describe the tension between us now. This new Olivia—who’s back in town—looks like she wants to kill me. While it infuriates me, it also excites me to see just how far she’ll go to prove her disdain.
“She’s a witch now, Ma, and that’s me trying to be nice,” I admit. My mother bursts into laughter. She’s having a lot of fun with this.
Until Olivia’s arrival in town, which hasn’t even been a week, my life was typically boring: revolving around my restaurant with a few business trips. When I wasn’t drinking with Daniel, I was curled up on my couch with my dog, Max. Olivia’s presence is stirring up a lot of drama and awakening the reckless teenager in me, ready for whatever games she wants to play.
My mother finally stops laughing and continues, “What if these hostile feelings you feel for each other are a lot more different than you’re both willing to admit?”
“What are you getting at now, Mom? I don’t have the energy for this. I’ve drained most of it arguing with Ollie all day.”
“Hear me out, El. I’m just saying, what if you think you hate each other, but you actually don’t?”
“I certainly don’t like her, Mom. Everyone knows that already,” I snap, not wanting to have this conversation.
“Well, someone once said, ‘Hatred can be considered the truest form of love. A love that cannot be fully expressed in any other way,’” she says softly, but I don’t know what to make of it.
Trying to end the conversation, I look for an excuse. “I’ve got to go, Ma. We’re opening soon. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Alright, I love you, son.”
When the line goes dead, I can’t help but think my mother is losing her mind. Yes, I might be rusty when it comes to matters of the heart, but there’s no way this is love.
Love is what Daniel has with Julia—something soft and safe. It’s everything Olivia writes about in her blog, even though I’ll never admit I’ve read every single column she’s posted, including last night’s. Love gives people butterflies, but what I feel for Olivia Reed isn’t that. It’s rage, and for the next few weeks, we’re going to be at each other’s throats. She’s playing a tune for the devil, and now I’m ready to dance to her beat.
“Is this what you truly want, Ollie?"