Chapter 27 #2
“I hope I’m not intruding.” My stomach spins as I step into the foyer, taking in the fresh flowers that always make this house feel like a magazine spread. “I wanted to speak with you and Greg about a business opportunity.”
It’s not entirely untrue. What I’m about to propose does involve business, even if my motivations are deeply personal and tangled up in the need to fix what Cindy destroyed last night.
“Of course. Greg’s in his study.” She leads me through the hallway that’s lined with family photos. “How was the rest of your evening with Cindy? You two left rather suddenly.”
“It was fine.” The lie tastes like ash, but I can’t exactly explain that I spent most of the drive back to her house listening to her hint at a night of passion while I plotted ways to end the evening without committing assault.
Lorna shows me where Greg is and disappears. His study is exactly what anyone would expect from a man who built a real estate empire on calculated risks and careful alliances.
Dark wood paneling, leather-bound books that have actually been read, and photographs that tell the story of a life lived at the intersection of power and secrets.
“Jaxon.” He peers up from his computer. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I have a proposition.” I settle into the chair across from his desk, the same chair where we’ve discussed deals that never make it into official documentation. “About Livianna’s living situation.”
Something shifts in his expression. There’s a subtle toughness around his eyes that I recognize from years of reading his tells across boardroom tables and darker venues.
He rests back in his chair. “What about her living situation?”
“She mentioned wanting to move out so she would have her own space while she establishes her design house.” I keep my poise businesslike. “I have the Malibu property sitting empty, and it seems like a waste when it could serve a purpose.”
It’s the house near the beach where Livianna and I strolled. Too bad she was too young back then.
Greg helped me acquire it through channels that don’t appear in public records. Then I remodeled it with specifications that had nothing to do with ocean views and everything to do with security measures that would make government safe houses jealous.
“That’s very generous of you.” Greg’s stance carries undertones that have nothing to do with real estate and everything to do with knowledge we’ve both sworn to take to our graves. “But I’m not sure Livianna would be comfortable accepting such a significant favor.”
“It wouldn’t be a favor.” I lean forward, knowing he’ll understand the careful distinction I’m making. “It would be a business arrangement. She pays fair market rent, maintains the property, and I have someone I trust looking after an asset that’s too valuable to leave unattended.”
The truth hangs between us like a loaded weapon. We both know exactly why that house needs someone living there who understands the importance of discretion and won’t ask questions about the modifications to the security systems.
“Fair market rent in Malibu is considerable.” Lorna rejoins us with a tray of coffee and fresh pastries. “Livianna’s seeing real profits from her designs, and I don’t want to see her waste those.”
“I’d be willing to work out terms that reflect her current financial position, no matter what they are.” I accept the cup Lorna offers. “Something that grows with Livianna’s success.”
“That’s incredibly thoughtful.” Lorna settles beside Greg, her hand finding his shoulder in a gesture that speaks of decades of partnership and shared indiscretions. “Though I have to ask what prompted this generous offer.”
Before I can answer, the sound of heels clicking against marble echoes through the hallway. Each step seems deliberate and sharp enough to cut glass. Livianna appears in the doorway, looking like a beautiful disaster wrapped in designer armor.
Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail that emphasizes the gorgeous angles of her hungover face. She’s wearing a black leather strapless dress from her collection, probably costing more than most people’s monthly salary.
But it’s her eyes that make my chest tighten with concern. They’re flat and cold, empty in a way that reminds me of the worst days when she was drowning in guilt and self-destruction.
“Well, well. Look who’s making house calls.” Her voice is steady, but brittle, like ice stretched too thin over deep water. “Let me guess, you’re here to discuss business with my parents while carefully avoiding any mention of last night’s spectacular reunion.”
The accusation hits its mark. Both Greg and Lorna tense as the tension crackles between us.
“Good morning, Livianna.” I keep my stance level despite the way she’s glaring at me like I'm something she scraped off her shoe. “I was just talking to your parents about my Malibu property.”
“Sounds like a great time.” She strides into the study with predatory grace, ignoring the coffee cup Lorna extends toward her. “While you all do that, I’m going to visit an old friend.”
Greg clears his throat. “Jaxon was offering to let you stay in his Malibu home while you look for a permanent place. It’s sitting empty, and the security is excellent.”
The emphasis he places on the word “security” is subtle, but noticeable. Livianna’s expression shifts as she processes the implications.
She might not know all the details about what that house represents, but she’s smart enough to recognize when conversations carry weight beyond their surface meaning.
“How thoughtful.” Livianna’s smile could freeze blood. “My parents’ friend offers me charity while his girlfriend tortures me at weddings. What a perfect arrangement.”
“Livianna Grace.” Lorna stiffens. “That’s enough.”
“Is it?” Livianna’s laugh is humorless. “Because I think we’re just getting started. Tell me, Jaxon, does Cindy know you’re here playing knight in shining armor? Or is this just another one of those complicated arrangements you’re so famous for?”
The words are aimed to inflict maximum damage. But it’s the pain underneath her anger that makes my chest constrict with the need to explain, to apologize, and to make her understand somehow that last night was never supposed to happen.
“This has nothing to do with Cindy.” My stare bores into Livianna’s eyes. “This is about you having a safe place to live and work while you build your empire.”
“My empire,” she repeats as if the words taste bad. “How impressive. Though I suppose everything sounds more important when you’re the one saying it.”
Greg’s hand finds Lorna’s. Their fingers intertwine in a gesture that speaks of shared concern and partnership that survives decades of storms.
“The offer stands, darling.” He gestures to Livianna. “But the decision is yours to make.”
Her hardened gaze flits between the three of us. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears and hostility in equal measure.
For a moment, I think she’s going to refuse out of sheer defiance. Then, something shifts in her expression. There’s a moment when she decides to surprise us all.
“I’ve always loved Malibu.” She stands proud, like she’s won a war where she conquered me, and holds out her hand. “Keys and address, please.”