20. Drake
Drake
Even though Olivia and I are going to the gala this weekend, we've been keeping things quiet at work. That doesn't stop us from making eyes at each other every time we have the chance. As badly as I wish I could have slept with her again when she was at my house on Friday, I'm glad I didn't.
I have to make sure my connection with her is more than just physical.
There's almost no doubt in my mind that it is, but when I'm around her, I have such a hard time controlling myself.
Adding a baby into the mix with us is going to complicate things, but I find myself entertaining the idea of being a father for the first time in my life.
All weekend, I've replayed my conversation with Olivia.
I've also been thinking about my childhood and the reservations I have about starting a family.
My decision has teetered on the edge of excitement and panic since she told me.
That's what I'm hoping to figure out at the fundraiser.
Can I see myself being a father? Is there a future for me, Olivia, and a baby in the picture?
Olivia knocks on my office door and comes in, closing it behind her as she stands in front of my desk. She smiles, and I have to fight every urge in my body to stand and kiss her.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Porter?” Olivia laughs and rolls her eyes as she takes a seat across from me.
“Why thank you, Mr. Vance,” she says with an exaggerated sigh. “I was just thinking about this weekend. Won’t it be a little strange for us to have been keeping our distance all week then we're suddenly at this event together?”
“I've thought about that, too,” I say, scratching my beard while I try to think of a solution. “If we're going to go on a date, we'll have to open up to the people around us about our relationship. Are you ready for that?”
“No,” Olivia says with a reluctant grin. She holds her hand over her stomach and inhales sharply. “But I don't think I have the luxury of waiting very long.”
Maybe I was a little too hasty in asking her to this event, but I'm not going to disinvite her when I've already been looking forward to it for days.
“Since we're going to have to come clean soon, let me talk to Tyler and get his temperature on how best to go about this,” I say, knowing this could impact work dynamics.
“You're sure you still want me to go?”
“Absolutely. You and I need to spend time getting to know each other one-on-one regardless,” I say, wanting to reach across the desk and hold her hand but holding back.
She nods and takes a relieved breath. “So, is this like a black-tie event?”
I nod, and she purses her lips. “You don't already have a ball gown in your closet?”
“I can't say that I do,” she laughs. “My roommate is always down for a shopping trip though, so it shouldn't be too hard to get one.”
I shake my head and glance at my calendar to see what I have on the books for this evening.
“I asked you to go to the event, so you're not going to buy a dress with your money,” I say. Olivia raises her hands and shakes her head to protest, but I don't give her the opportunity. “I insist, Olivia. If you're not doing anything tonight, we can go shopping.”
“It's not a big deal.” She blushes at the thought of me buying her a dress.
“It is to me.” I raise an eyebrow waiting for her to argue against it. “Just hang out a little bit after 5, and I'll drive us.”
Eventually, she realizes there's no point in fighting it, so she leaves the office and returns to work in the kitchen. I spend the rest of the day rushing through my work so I can spend as much time with Olivia as possible. Even so, everyone has left the office by the time I have my keys in hand.
Olivia is leaning on the counter and looking through her phone while she waits for me, and she eagerly stands up when I tap my fingers on the counter. We walk out of the office together, not having to worry about anybody seeing us because everyone's already gone home.
Olivia slides into the seat beside me, and I'm immediately aware of how much more cautiously I drive knowing she's in the car with me, and pregnant at that. Not that I'm normally a reckless driver, but now, I'm extra cautious at every intersection.
“Do you go to a lot of events like this?” Olivia asks, looking at her phone for inspiration for dresses.
“Yes, I do.” She looks at me and raises her eyebrows.
I laugh and look back at her as we stop at a red light.
“A lot of fundraisers thrown by other rich people have stipulations like this.
It's good that they're doing something to give back to society, but it's also an excuse to get dressed up and gossip with other people in your industry.”
“My roommate and I watch a lot of The Real Housewives, and this is a classic staple of the show,” Olivia laughs before telling me some of the highlights of dramatic encounters on the show.
“I never pegged you as a reality TV person.” She narrows her eyes at me for a minute before giggling.
“Is it because you think I'm too smart to enjoy that?” I don't need to answer for her to know that's the reason why.
It's not that I think reality TV is bad, I just imagined Olivia watching nature documentaries and serious shows.
“Reality TV has a bad rep because it's ‘lowbrow,’ but it's entertaining.
I'm not ashamed to say that I've seen every episode of The Real Housewives of every city they go to, and I will gladly watch any new series they come up with. I also love The Bachelor.”
“Okay, The Bachelor surprises me. One guy choosing between twenty women all carbon copies of whatever unrealistic beauty standard the industry projects. A little misogynistic, no?”
Olivia looks at me with amusement on her face. “But isn't that every man's dream? Be honest; you would love to be on the cast. I've seen some of the women you've gone out with, and I'm pretty sure some of them have been on the show.”
“That would be a nightmare,” I reply, laughing incredulously. “Do you really think I would enjoy standing on a pedestal and having women fight over me?”
She hesitates to answer, and I feel awful. Is that what she thinks of me? She must realize I'm offended because she launches into damage-control mode.
“It's not that I think you would enjoy it; I've just always thought most men would love to be in that position. I guess I don't know you well. I just assumed with all the women you've dated…”
“Most of the women in the tabloid articles and on my social media accounts have been one-off publicity arrangements,” I admit, cutting her off before she makes any other inaccurate assumptions.
I've been a player at times, and I don't want to settle down.
But I have a little more tact than she's giving me credit for.
“I know I might come across as shallow because I don't want a relationship, but I don't feel like I am.”
“I didn't mean to imply that you are. I'm sorry,” Olivia says with a genuinely apologetic look. “I've just been told some things about you, and I think they're very heavy in my mind right now. Honestly, I might have wanted to bring this up because it’s something I've been thinking about.”
I wait for her to elaborate. I can only imagine what she's heard, and I doubt that the way we met did anything to dispel any negative rumors.
“Do I have a bad reputation? Yes,” I say, pulling up to the dress shop and parking in front of it. “That doesn't mean that I don't still like you, Olivia. I very much do, and I want us to make a fresh start.”
Olivia nods and smiles, leaning in to give me a small peck on the lips. We get out of the car and enter the dress shop. One of the workers recognizes me, turns to her coworker, and begins whispering. I try to ignore them as Olivia and I look through the racks.
She shows me a few dresses and asks if they would be appropriate, and I think all of them would be. The problem she has is that the idea of wearing an elegant gown to a fancy gala is overwhelming for her, and I want to do everything I can to make it easier.
If I'm going to consider a relationship with her, she has to get used to the different aspects of my lifestyle.
She won't be able to hide at home when I attend high-profile business openings and movie premieres.
She'll be in the public eye and scrutinized, and I want her to be ready for that.
This gala is almost going to be like a litmus test for her.
Olivia grabs a few dresses and tries them on, too nervous to show them to me until she's confident. When she finds one she likes, she steps out of the fitting room, and my jaw drops.
“What do you think?” she asks nervously, stepping out and looking in the mirror.
She's wearing a floor-length sapphire gown with dainty lace flowers sewn into the fabric.
You wouldn't even notice the flowers if you didn’t stare for too long, but I of course take great notice.
The dress hugs her curves perfectly, with the deep V-neck cutting between her breasts and landing a few inches above her belly button.
She tucks a few strands of wavy blonde hair behind her ear as she looks in the mirror, running her hands along the fabric that fits her like a second skin.
“You look incredible,” I finally manage, wanting nothing more than to go into the fitting room with her and help her take it off.
She blushes at the compliment, ducks back inside to change out of it, and we check out shortly after.
I drive back to her apartment and say goodbye, wishing I could go inside.
I watch her walk away with the bag in her hand, an excited feeling in my stomach knowing I'll be the one walking into the fundraiser with her on my arm.
***