Chapter 4
Coming home feels like a knot has loosened in my chest. As we walk into the living room, my mother’s arms wrap around me again, the familiar scent of her enveloping me like a warm blanket.
Her body is soft against mine, and for a moment, I’m ten years old again, running into the kitchen after school.
I close my eyes and breathe her in, wondering why I waited so long to come back. Why I let a whole year pass.
“Oh, my baby,” she murmurs into my hair. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Missed you, too, Mom,” I whisper, and I mean it.
There’s movement behind her, and I look up to see my father emerging from the kitchen, dish towel slung over his shoulder.
The moment his eyes land on me, his weathered face breaks into a grin so wide it crinkles the corners of his eyes.
He crosses the distance in three long strides and pulls me into a bear hug that lifts me clear off the ground.
“It’s good to have you home for Christmas, Livie-girl,” he says, his voice rough with emotion.
I kiss his cheek, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. “Hi, Dad.”
He sets me down, his hands rising to settle on my shoulders as he looks at me. But then his gaze shifts to Alexander behind me, and he pauses. His smile fades by degrees as he takes in the tall, impeccably dressed man standing just inside our doorway.
“So that’s the boyfriend you mentioned in your message,” he says, voice dropping to a low rumble only I can hear.
I swallow hard. I don’t want to lie to my parents.
I’ve never been good at it, especially with my father, who seems to have a built-in lie detector.
But I remember the worry in their voices during our calls after Chase and I broke up, the way they’d ask if I was eating, if I was sleeping, if I was “putting myself out there.” I remember my mother’s not-so-subtle hints about grandchildren.
So I step back from my father’s embrace and walk over to Alexander, who looks oddly at home in our modest living room despite being the most expensive thing in it. I slip my hand into his, trying to ignore the little jolt I feel when his fingers close firmly around mine.
“Dad, this is Alexander Castellano,” I say, working to keep my voice steady. “My boyfriend.”
Dad’s brow furrows as he approaches, studying Alexander with undisguised suspicion. “Castellano? As in Castellano Group? That’s your boss.” His eyes narrow as he looks at me. “You’re dating your boss?”
Before I can respond, Alexander steps forward, offering his free hand to my father.
“Mr. Hartley, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.
Yes, I’m her boss. But our relationship has evolved beyond that.
” My head whips around to stare at him. His face is a mask of sincerity, but there’s a glint in his gray eyes that makes my pulse kick up a notch.
“The truth is,” he continues smoothly, “I’ve been in love with your daughter for the longest time. When I found out she was single, I pursued her. I couldn’t let her slip away.”
Mom audibly gasps, her hand fluttering to her chest. Dad’s expression softens slightly, but he’s still studying Alexander like he’s trying to spot the fine print.
“And are you happy, Olivia?” Mom asks, her eyes bright with barely contained excitement. “Is he good to you?”
I feel Alexander’s gaze on me, patient and expectant. His thumb traces small circles on the back of my hand, a gesture so intimate it makes heat crawl up my neck. I swallow hard and force a smile that I hope looks genuine.
“I’ve never been happier,” I say, wrapping my other arm around Alexander’s, leaning into him like I’ve done it a thousand times. The solid warmth of his body next to mine sends an unexpected flutter through my stomach.
Dad watches us for a moment, then nods once, satisfied with whatever he sees. “Well, I’m glad you found someone who understands your ambition, Livie. You’d outgrown Chase years ago.” He looks Alexander up and down appraisingly. “And Mr. Castellano here seems more... capable.”
I sigh internally. Great. Just what Alexander needs—another ego boost.
“Where’s Sophie?” I ask quickly.
“School,” Mom says, still beaming at Alexander like he’s Santa Claus himself. “She’ll be home around four. She’s been counting down the days until you arrived.”
“Are you taking the day off, Dad?” I ask hopefully.
Dad glances at his watch, then winces. “I was planning to, but Mrs. Henderson’s water heater exploded and flooded her basement.
I have to go fix it.” He gives me an apologetic smile.
“I’ll be back in a few hours. But first, let me get your luggage from the car,” he offers, already moving toward the door.
“Please, let me handle it,” Alexander says, shaking his head. “Where would you like me to put our things, sir?”
Dad looks momentarily surprised by the ‘sir,’ but then pleased. “I’ll show you. We’ve got Olivia’s old room made up, and the guest room down the hall for—”
“Bob!” Mom hisses, eyes widening in horror.
Dad looks confused. “What?”
“They’re together,” she emphasizes, giving him a meaningful look. “They’re dating. Seriously dating.”
I feel my face flame. “Mom! We don’t—I mean—”
“We’d be happy with whatever arrangements you’re comfortable with,” Alexander interjects smoothly, saving me from spontaneously combusting on the spot. “But I’d be glad to have your help with the luggage, Mr. Hartley.”
“Bob,” my father corrects, looking slightly mollified. “Call me Bob. And sure, let’s get your things inside.”
I watch as my boss—my fake boyfriend—and my father head out to the BMW, walking side by side like they’ve known each other for years instead of minutes. Alexander says something I can’t hear, and my father gives a full-hearted laugh.
“He’s good at this,” I mutter under my breath as I follow my mother into the kitchen.
“What was that, honey?” Mom asks, already pulling ingredients from the cabinet. “I’m making hot cocoa. Alexander looks like a man who appreciates good hot cocoa.”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just... surprised how well they’re getting along.”
Mom gives me a knowing look. “Your father always respects a man who treats his daughter well.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “And he is so handsome, Olivia! Those eyes! Why didn’t you tell us your boss was the boyfriend you were bringing? I would have prepared better.”
Outside, I can see my father gesturing to the BMW, clearly impressed. Alexander is saying something, pointing to various features of the car.
“Let’s go see what they’re talking about,” Mom says, already heading for the door. I follow her onto the porch, just in time to hear Alexander’s words.
“—already taken care of. The paperwork’s in the glove compartment with your name on it, Bob.”
“My name?” Dad looks stunned. “What are you talking about?”
“The car is yours,” Alexander says matter-of-factly. “Consider it a gift.”
“WHAT?” I choke out, hurrying down the steps with Mom right behind me. “Alexander, you can’t—”
“It’s a custom in my family,” Alexander says calmly, as if he isn’t casually giving away a hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle, “to present potential in-laws with a meaningful gift. I made sure this car was equipped with everything to handle snow.”
“We can’t accept this,” Dad begins to decline, shaking his head.
“Bob!” Mom hisses, grabbing her husband’s arm.
“He said ‘potential in-laws.’ He wants to marry Olivia.” The gleam in my father’s eyes changes, and I groan internally.
This is getting out of hand fast. Alexander is playing his part a little too well, and my parents are eating it up like Christmas cookies.
“I would be very hurt if you rejected my gift,” Alexander says graciously, his tone leaving no room for further argument.
Mom fidgets with her apron, clearly torn. “It’s just... It’s too generous, Alexander. We don’t feel comfortable taking something so expensive from you, even though I understand the gesture behind it.”
Alexander’s expression softens as he looks at my mother. “Mrs. Hartley, you and your husband have trusted me with your precious daughter.” His voice drops lower, tender and sincere. “Nothing I could ever do would compare to that gift.”
Even my heart flutters at his words. They’re fake—I know they’re fake—but when his eyes find mine, something warm and unfamiliar spreads through my chest, and for a moment, I hesitate. It is fake... right?
Before I can think too deeply about it, Dad clears his throat. His eyes are suspiciously wet when he turns to me. “Looks like you’ve chosen a good man this time, Livie-girl.”
Mom notices his emotional state and wraps an arm around his waist. “Come on, Bob. You need to get ready for Mrs. Henderson.” She helps him toward the house, leaving Alexander and me standing alone in the driveway.
The moment they’re inside, I turn and hit him lightly in the chest. “What are you doing?” I hiss. “This wasn’t part of the plan. You’re supposed to make them like you, not make yourself their son-in-law!”
Alexander catches the hand I’m hitting him with, bringing it smoothly to his lips. He presses a kiss to my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. My cheeks burn.
“You can’t be mad at me for being charming,” he says, pulling me against his side. “It’s part of my genetic makeup.”
“You’re overdoing it,” I mutter, trying to ignore how perfectly I seem to fit against him.
“I don’t think so,” he says, feigning innocence. Then he leans down and kisses the tip of my nose.
I freeze, stunned by the unexpected gesture. In six years, Alexander has never been anything but professional. The most physical contact we’d had before yesterday was an occasional handshake. And now he’s kissing my nose like we’re... like we’re...
I open my mouth to tell him exactly what I think of his performance, but he murmurs, “You have neighbors watching,” his breath warm against my skin. “You should kiss me back.”