8. Chapter Eight
chapter eight
. . .
Carter
I surveyed the bustling construction site. The noise of a nearby jackhammer poked at the headache simmering beneath my skull. Dust swirled in the crisp September air, mingling with the scent of freshly cut lumber and diesel fumes. I inhaled deeply, this was the smell of progress.
Olivia stood beside me, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail. She wore a tight black shirt and dark jeans, looking every inch the capable professional. But I didn't miss the tension in her shoulders, the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“Ready for the grand tour?” I asked, pitching my voice to carry over the roar of machinery.
She flashed me a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. “Lead the way, boss.”
As we picked our way across the site, I was hyper-aware of her presence. She moved with a grace despite her obvious discomfort, asking insightful questions about the project's scope and timeline .
“The community center will be the focal point,” I explained, gesturing to a cleared area where the foundation was being poured. “We're aiming for LEED Platinum certification, with solar panels, rainwater harvesting, and a green roof.”
Her eyes lit up. “That's fantastic. Have you considered partnering with local schools for educational programs about sustainable building practices?”
My eyebrows shot up. “We've discussed outreach initiatives, but nothing concrete yet. That's an excellent idea.”
She ducked her head, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Thanks. I did some work with educational programs at the humane society. It's amazing how engaged kids get when they feel like they're part of something bigger.”
A pang tightened my chest. Admiration? I pushed the sensation aside.
We approached a group huddled around a set of blueprints. Emmett gestured animatedly as Callie stood with her arms crossed, a slight frown creasing her brow. Wick towered over them both, his shoulders tense as he listened intently.
“Morning, folks,” I called out. “I believe you all already know my new assistant, Olivia.”
“So formal, Cassidy. Livvy is practically family—an honorary Price!” Emmett's face split into a wide grin, and he pulled Olivia into a hug. I bristled at him touching her. Odd.
Watching the easy banter between the four of them, a knot formed in my gut. This was precisely why I avoided mixing business with personal relationships. Things got... messy. I needed to steer this conversation back to safer waters. “Olivia will be assisting me with various aspects of the project, including community outreach and stakeholder engagement.”
Emmett clapped his hands together. “Perfect! We could use a fresh perspective. Now, Carter, about these revisions to the community garden layout...”
As the team delved into the nitty-gritty details of the project, I found my attention divided. Part of me was fully engaged with the discussion, debating the merits of various design choices and construction timelines. But another part, a part I was decidedly uncomfortable with, kept drifting to Olivia.
She held her own admirably, offering thoughtful insights and asking probing questions. But I didn't miss the subtle signs of her discomfort—the slight furrow between her brows, the occasional sharp intake of breath when she moved too quickly.
Wick noticed too. Our eyes met over Olivia's head, and I saw my own concern mirrored in his gaze.
As the meeting wrapped up, I felt as if I’d been transported back in time. Suddenly, I was twenty-five again, presenting my first major project to a room full of skeptical investors.
My hands shook as I clicked through the PowerPoint slides, my voice growing stronger with each passing moment. The conference room was stifling, but I barely noticed, caught up in the thrill of sharing my vision.
“By incorporating these sustainable design elements, we're not just creating a building. We're creating a blueprint for the future of urban development.”
The doubt in their eyes slowly gave way to interest, then excitement. By the time I finished my presentation, the energy in the room was electric.
As the investors filed out, murmuring amongst themselves, my mentor clapped me on the shoulder. “Well done, kid. You've got a real gift for this.”
Pride swelled in my chest. I was going to change the world, one building at a time.
When had I lost that fire, that unshakeable belief in the power of my work? When had cynicism and self-preservation become my default setting?
“Earth to Carter.” Olivia's voice cut through my reverie. “You okay there, boss?”
I cleared my throat, trying to recover my composure. “Fine. Just thinking about the next phase of construction.”
She tilted her head, those hazel eyes far too perceptive for my comfort. “Uh-huh. And I'm the Queen of England.”
Despite myself, the corner of my mouth twitched. “Your Majesty,” I deadpanned with a slight bow.
Olivia's laugh rang out, bright and unexpected. The sound sent a pleasant tingle straight through me, warming places I'd long thought frozen.
Shit.
While we hashed out the details of the sensory playground that would sit just outside the community center, I stole glances across the site, tracking Olivia's progress. She moved from group to group, engaging with workers and project managers alike. Even from a distance, I could see the impact she was having—people leaned in when she spoke, nodding and gesturing enthusiastically.
“Livvy seems to be working out well for you,” Emmett said, following my gaze.
I shrugged. “She's competent.”
Emmett chuckled. “High praise indeed, coming from you.”
I shot him a warning look, but he just grinned. “Relax, Carter. It's not a crime to appreciate talent when you see it.”
Before I could respond, Wick joined our group. “Olivia's impressing the hell out of everyone,” he said, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “You might have some competition for her services soon.”
An unexpected surge of possessiveness reared up inside me. “She's under contract.”
Wick raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but contracts end. And talented people have options.”
I clenched my jaw, hearing his unspoken warning. Don't fuck this up, Carter. Don't drive her away like you have so many others.
“I'm well aware of Olivia's value,” I said stiffly. “Now, can we get back to the matter at hand?”
The rest of the morning was taken up by meetings and site inspections. I threw myself into the work, pushing thoughts of Olivia to the back of my mind. But every time I caught a glimpse of her—chatting with a group of workers, poring over blueprints with Callie, even just standing alone, taking in the scope of the project—I felt that hitch in my chest.
As the sun climbed higher in the sky, I called a break for lunch. The team scattered, heading for the food trucks that had set up shop at the edge of the site. I hung back, using the moment of quiet to gather myself.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I turned to find Olivia standing a few feet away, a knowing smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “I doubt they're worth that much,” I said dryly.
She laughed, the sound making my skin prickle. “Don't sell yourself short, boss. I bet that big brain of yours is worth at least a nickel.”
“Careful, Friedman. Flattery will get you everywhere.”
Her eyes widened in mock surprise. “Was that a joke? From the great Carter Cassidy? I'm shocked.”
“Don't get used to it. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Olivia's smile softened. “Your secret's safe with me. Now, come on. I heard a rumor about a truck selling the best tacos in Columbus, and I intend to test that theory.”
As we walked towards the food trucks, I was constantly aware of her presence beside me. The way she moved, the subtle scent of her perfume, the warmth radiating from her body. It was all uncomfortably noticeable.
We joined the line for tacos, falling into an easy conversation about the morning's progress. Olivia's enthusiasm was infectious.
“You know,” I said as we collected our food, “your idea about partnering with local schools has potential. We should explore that further.”
Her face lit up. “Really? That's great! I'd be happy to put together some preliminary ideas if you'd like.”
I nodded, already mentally reshuffling my schedule to make room for this new initiative. “Set up a meeting for next week. We'll brainstorm and see what we can come up with.”
As we found a spot to eat, I noticed the way Olivia's eyes darted around, taking in every detail of the site. Her gaze was sharp and appraising, but there was also a softness there—a genuine care for the people and the community this project would serve.
“You miss it, don't you?” I asked. “Working directly with the community, I mean.”
Olivia's eyes snapped to mine. She looked taken aback. I was as surprised as she was. I wasn’t sure where my insight had come from. She was quiet for a moment, considering her words. “I do,” she admitted. “Don't get me wrong, I love what I'm doing now. But there was something special about the hands-on work at the shelter.”
“It's different here,” I said, gesturing to the bustling site around us. “The scale is larger, the impact more abstract. But it's no less important.”
Olivia's smile was gentle, appreciative. “I know. And I'm grateful for the opportunity to be part of it. It's just... different, like you said.”
We lapsed into silence. I studied Olivia's profile, noting the set of her jaw, the spark in her eyes. She was more than a pretty face or a competent assistant. She was a force to be reckoned with, a woman with dreams and ambitions of her own.
I wanted to understand what drove her, what made her eyes light up with that fierce passion. I wanted to be the one to put that smile on her face, to take the worries from her shoulders.
Shit .
I stood abruptly, crumpling my taco wrapper. “Break's over. We should get back to work.”
She looked up, startled by my sudden movement. “Oh, okay. Is everything alright?”
I nodded curtly, already turning away. “Fine. Just a lot to do.”
As we walked back to the main part of the site, I felt her concerned gaze on me. But I kept my eyes forward, my jaw clenched against the tide of unwelcome emotions.
I couldn’t do this. Not with Olivia, not with anyone. It could only end one way.
But as we rejoined the team, I had the nagging suspicion that it might already be too late.
I'd let her in, however unintentionally. And now, try as I might to deny it, Olivia had become more than my assistant. She'd become a complication. A risk.
Worst of all, a part of me was starting to think she might be worth it.