Chapter 6
Olivia
“That’s a lot of water.”
I don’t have to see Chip to feel nauseous.
My body cringes spontaneously upon hearing his voice.
It’s so tempting to ignore my ex-boyfriend—the cheater of all cheats, womanizing, commitment-phobic, condescending misogynist—but since he’s also the reigning heir to the Lowe part of Bancroft & Lowe, I usually try my best to be the bigger person.
I can tell it’s going to be a struggle today.
“Got the email you were back. Thanks for the warning.” I stand from where I was filling my large cup at the water cooler and look over my shoulder.
Chip’s eyes are glued to my backside, ogling my ass. “It’s fuller.” Gloves are off.
I spin to hide said ass from his disgusting gaze. “You’re such an asshole.”
His hands fly up in front of him like he’s innocent. “Just noting your ass is bigger. I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”
He knows just how to get a reaction from me. I grip my stainless cup tighter, my anger convincing me I might crush it. Walk away, Liv. Walk . . . away.
Heading for the door, I decide it’s best not to say another word to him.
Since our breakup two years ago, our interactions are usually kept to a minimum, and I’ve already broken my limit.
Our blowout before I left that year had the rest of the office caught in the crossfire.
I never want to lower myself to his level again.
“It’s mind-boggling how you never change.
You still act like an entitled man-child. ”
“Why would I when I get everything I want?”
“I guess what I was really wondering is how you get away with it. I get that you have your daddy living vicariously through your conquests, enjoying the stories, and encouraging the philandering. I mean, we all know like father, like son. But I don’t understand why any woman would ever put up with your shit. ”
“That’s something you should ask yourself.”
“I did. That’s why I’m no longer subjected to it.
” I start walking, but the irritation he’s caused makes me itchy for a comeback.
Although I try to be the bigger person, I don’t always succeed.
I turn back on my favorite patent black heels, the ones that make me feel strong and, honestly, powerful by the height and stance they provide.
“Talk about me, or any body part of mine again, and I’ll be filing a report with HR for harassment. ”
“You wish I was still harassing you.”
Stupid me. I forgot he always must get the last word in. If I stay, we’ll keep going in circles, and since that’s the definition of insanity, I leave.
Colliding into a wall of muscle, fine Italian wool, and silk, I bounce back, wobbling on my heels, dropping my cup, and losing my balance.
I’m caught so fast that my neck jerks back. “Gotcha.” Pulled forward, I’m set right on my feet again. Coming face-to-face with Noah at this early hour of the day is not something I was prepared for. Is my lipstick still fresh, my blouse still wrinkle-free, and my hair still styled how I like it?
Oh my God . . .
I scream inside.
Why do I care? I hate myself for being so easily baited by his stupidly handsome good looks. I’m usually better than this. Chip has thrown me off this morning.
I need to cure myself from ever making the same mistake I did with Noah in the Hamptons from happening again.
He says, “You seem to be making a habit of falling for me.”
That will do it! I’m cured.
“Men,” I snap, rolling my eyes. I bend over to pick up my cup, but we bonk heads. “Ow!” Rubbing my head, I look straight into the warmth of his brown eyes with green centers and a smile so genuine that I forget we’re enemies for the briefest moment in time.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I whisper, redirecting my gaze to the cup in his hands. I stand when he does, at a loss for what to say or even how to react. I finally look up at him again. “Are you okay?”
He chuckles. “Yes, I’m fine.” His breath is heavy as if he’s struggling like I am to know what to do or say next.
“She’s a walking disaster,” Chip says under a heavy laugh when he passes us. “Best to avoid it if you can there, buddy.” He pats Noah on the shoulder.
Shrugging him off, Noah replies, “I can handle her.”
“You say that now, but you’ve been warned.”
I don’t know why the corners of my eyes fill with tears. It’s a nuisance, though. Taking the cup from him, I spin to rush away. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
In the safety of my office, I lean against the back of the door to steady my breathing and swallow down my weakest feelings. No one can hurt me if I keep my emotions tucked deep inside.
I hit reset and move to my desk. A knock has me instantly annoyed. Can’t I just have a minute to myself around here? “Come in.”
Noah pokes his head in. “Busy?”
“Always.” I turn my attention to my monitor and start typing a reply to an email. “What do you want?”
He walks in, closes the door, and stands there looking like a runway model in his incredibly flattering suit.
Brighter than navy but still muted compared to royal, he’s found the perfect shade of blue to complement his tan and hair on the lighter side of brown.
He looks like he just got back from vacation, while I’m starting to feel as if I’ll never see the likes of one again.
Damn him.
He shoves his hands in his pockets, and says, “I’ve been thinking about us.”
“There is no us.”
“In the office sense.”
I stop and pivot my chair to face him. I’m having visions of déjà vu from, what, two days ago? I quirk a smile but try my best to wipe it away. “What about the office?”
“And us.”
“Yes, Noah. And us.” Sometimes it feels like he’s lingering just to spend more time together. But being around marketing associates for years now, I know creatives can be long-winded with their entertaining stories and charismatic quips.
I’m tempted to snap my fingers, knowing there are never enough hours to finish my work. At least I have job security.
“Why don’t we call a ceasefire and start over?”
“I’m listening.” I rest back, liking what I’m hearing. “Go on.”
He takes a seat without being invited. Just mentally noting because it doesn’t upset me like it did on Monday. I’m actually calm . . . should I be worried?
Noah leans back, making himself comfortable, and not even the smirk bothers me today, even if it is only slight. “I don’t want this tension with you. It’s not good for either of us.”
“I agree.”
Resting his forearms on his legs, he asks, “What can I do to make this better between us or, at the very least, professionally cordial?”
“What do you suggest?” The opening to talk, the desire to tell him everything hits hard. I bite my lip, thinking it’s best if I just listen for now and gain insight into this man.
“The past is the past, but—”
The door opens. Chip barges in, causing him to stand, and silences us as if we got busted making out. “Why are you being so bitchy, Livvie?” His eyes shift to Noah and then narrow before a fake smile punctures his face. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know you had a meeting.”
“You should be apologizing to Olivia. It’s her office.”
Chip looks back and forth between us several times, then lands on him and bursts out laughing like he heard a joke. Noah’s not laughing. I’m not. Hitting Noah in jest on the chest, he says, “We should grab a beer sometime. I bet you can pull in the ladies.”
“I don’t need to pull. They come willingly.
” His even tone contains no emotion, not even arrogance, though he’d have a right to be that way.
Look at him. He tells no lies when it comes to women.
I came willingly a few times under his hand .
. . tongue . . . and other heady body parts.
Turning to me, Noah bows his head. “I apologize for the disruption. We can continue another time.”
Now Chip has really pissed me off. It was going so well with Noah, too, which was a nice change of pace for us. “I think that’s best under the circumstances.”
“Maybe you can send that financial report over before then.” He drops an alibi.
I pick it up. “Certainly. I’ll send it by the end of the day.”
“Olivia.”
“Noah.”
He looks at Chip when he passes him. “Chip,” he says, subtly popping the p. It is a ridiculous name. If Noah only knew his full name was Chipper.
“We’ll grab that beer.” Chip points at him like they’re buds, but Noah is already gone. Well-played, sir. Well-played.
I ask, “What do you want?”
“Why are you being such a bitch to me?”
I sigh because this exhausting topic has played out too many times before.
“I’m not anything to you. You’re just offended that I’m not stroking your ego or laughing at your male chauvinist jokes.
” I brush my fingers toward the door. “Run along and bother someone else, Chipper.” Okay, I do go low sometimes .
. . I really despise that he brings out this side of me.
Between the threat of Noah blindsiding Maxwell’s and my life and Chip returning at the worst time, it’s a lot.
He walks to the door, and his hyena laughter echoes off the wall. “I knew you hadn’t gotten over me. It’s kind of sweet how you’re holding on to our relationship.”
The offense is impossible to keep from my face. I stand, him literally getting a rise out of me. “Leave.”
“Settle dow—”
“Now!”
He looks over his shoulder for witnesses. Although I don’t face the atrium of cubicles, and there’s no office across from me, I know I’ll be the one judged for losing my cool in this situation.
Smarter than he looks, he leaves. I move around my desk and close the door, this time locking it. Returning to my chair, I lean back and close my eyes.
Inhale.
Slowly exhale.
Inhale.
Breathe out.
Imagine a sunny day at the park with Maxwell.
My anger ceases to exist with such a happy image in my head. I open my eyes again, feeling much calmer.
“Okay. This is good. Chip is gone. Noah and I are talking. I’m alone. It’s fine. All good.”
A knock has me cursing the interruption. I don’t think I can deal with Chip again. Please don’t let it be him. “Yes?”
“It’s me, Olivia,” my father calls from the other side of the door. When the knob rattles, I jump to my feet and rush to unlock it. He looks at me like I’m crazed. Maybe I am after the start to this day. “Why is your door locked?”
“I wanted to focus on the quarterly reports today.”
“Ah.” He walks to the window behind my desk, then turns to sit on the sill. “Close the door.”
That’s not good . . .
Doing as I’m told, I close it and then stay there to stand in my discomfort. After crossing his arms over his chest, he says, “Were you yelling at Chip?” The accusation stings, though I did yell.
Disappointment tugs his unruly eyebrows together. He let them go after my mom left him, and now I can’t stop staring. “We’ve talked about this, Olivia. One of the conditions of returning to the office was not yelling at Chip. Lowe Sr. isn’t in yet, but if he hears about this—”
“Then the office is gossiping again.” How is this already so twisted?
“Why is everyone allowed to talk about me as if I’m the wicked witch .
. .” I throw my hand out in the direction of Chip’s office down the hall.
“But he skates by like the hero.” Shaking my head, I sit in a chair near the door. “Do you even care why I yelled?”
“No.” He stands and walks to the door. “I need you to be less reactionary and fall in line with expected behaviors.”
“What behaviors are those exactly?”
“Less . . . emotional. Ever since you came back from working remotely, you’ve been .
. .” He pauses as if he’s hesitant to say it.
It’s not like my father not to speak his mind.
For someone who’s built a successful corporation on relationships, he’s never seemed to understand the basics regarding his own daughter.
I stand, angling his way. “What have I been?”
He looks down, rubbing the bridge of his nose. When he looks at me, the words don’t have to come from his mouth. They’re seen clearly in his expression.
“A woman? I’ve been acting like a woman?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, you made me say it instead.” I sit at my desk and turn to my monitor in order not to act on impulse and prove him right. “If you’ll excuse me.”
He opens the door. “I’ll let you get to it. I have lunch scheduled with Noah anyway. He’s the injection of energy we’ve needed in this company. Have you spent any time with him?”
“Some.”
“He’s great, right?”
“Yes, Dad, he’s great.” Although I’m conflicted over the situation with Noah, it’s not a lie.
A smile with pride shaping it shows up. “Speaking of, are you seeing anyone these days?”
We don’t often broach my personal life since Chip and I broke up two years ago, but this question is thrown from left field. Dating? How in the heck would I have time for dating? He seems to always forget I have a baby at home. But maybe this is genuine interest in his daughter.
“Dating isn’t something I’m interested in. I’m too busy with the bab—”
“There’s more to life than work, Olivia.”
Even though logically, I know it’s on him, my heart aches, knowing I’ve never lived up to what he’s expected, and the tradition continues with Maxwell. “I don’t need to date to be happy. I have all that I need.”
“That’s good.” He taps his watch. “Because if it weren’t for the non-fraternization policy in place, I’d suggest you spend more time with Noah. He’s a great catch.” He leaves like that’s the end of the conversation. It sounds more like Noah’s the son he never had.
He wanted Chip and me to work out, but I also resented how much of a suck-up Chip was to my father. Dad claimed he saw right through him but still supported Chip after the breakup. I was just the mean one, the Ice Queen, and Chip was the innocent.
It makes me wonder if my dad would still side with Chip if he knew the truth.
Feeling every bit of my childhood insecurity, I rush to the door. “Hey, Dad?”
He turns around, and I think I see a smile in his eyes when he looks at me. “Yes?” I don’t get my hopes up just yet. I’ve been burned before, which is one of the reasons I don’t force him to have a relationship with Maxwell. I'm winning if I can spare my child the same pain I grew up with.
I shouldn’t set myself up for disappointment, but I can’t help but hold on to hope that one day we’ll be close. “Do you think someone would be lucky to catch me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Olivia. You’re my daughter.”
His daughter. Not because I’m good enough or even stand on my own, as a separate human being. He believes my value lies within him.
I nod, staring into his eyes, wanting to wither. I don’t. I won’t. I lift my chin and say, “Have a good lunch.” I don’t question why he’s leaving at nine thirty in the morning to have lunch with Noah. It’s really none of my business.
What I do know is that he didn’t have even ten minutes for me all week, but has made room in his schedule for Noah to slide right in. For him, the great catch, he has time. For me, nothing until next week at the earliest.
Sounds about right.