Chapter 7 #2
I’ve been attracted to Olivia since the day she walked into my office, eyes bright with determination despite her obvious nerves.
That attraction morphed into something else when I spent six months working so closely with her to repair the damage my company had taken.
Doubt at her skills changed to admiration and respect at her tenacity.
She learned and absorbed everything almost instantly.
For someone with so little experience, she became my right hand person and someone I began to rely on.
But she was taken, committed to the hometown boyfriend she spoke of occasionally. I don’t poach. I don’t cheat. And I certainly don’t pursue women who are in relationships, no matter how much I might want to.
So I built walls. Maintained a professional distance. Hid behind the cold, demanding persona of Mr. Castellano, CEO. It was safer that way.
I study the quiet street, distracted. I no longer have to keep her at arm’s length.
There’s nothing stopping me from showing her exactly who I am now, who I could be—with her.
And I’m enjoying her reactions immensely.
The wide-eyed surprise when I’m kind to her family.
The flush in her cheeks when I touch her.
The way she kissed me back in her driveway like she’s been wanting to do it for as long as I have.
By the time I reach the Hartley house, it’s still dark. I let myself in quietly, hoping to grab a glass of water before heading back upstairs. As I enter the kitchen, the light suddenly flicks on, and I find myself face to face with Sophie, sitting at the table.
“Morning,” she says, like finding her sister’s boyfriend sneaking in at four in the morning is perfectly normal.
“Good morning,” I reply. “You’re up early.”
She shrugs, watching me with that direct teenage gaze. “I saw you leave. I was going to follow you, but it’s way too cold out there. So I waited.” Her assessment is unnerving in its directness. “Why were you out walking at three in the morning? Normal people are sleeping.”
I pour myself a glass of water, oddly amused by her bluntness. “I usually go for a run at this hour. Habit.”
Sophie watches me curiously. “You don’t take a break? Even during Christmas?”
“No. Some things are important. My morning run helps me clear my mind. So, what did you need from me that you waited for me to come back?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I sip the water, holding her gaze.
“How long did you say you and my sister have been together for?”
“A month after New Year’s,” I reply lightly.
“Really?” Sophie’s smile broadens. Something’s not right. I can feel a flicker of unease.
“Yes.”
“Did you guy break up? Have any disagreements?”
“No.”
My answer makes her lean forward, and she whistles through her teeth. “You two should really get your stories straight. I know you’re not dating my sister.”
I go very still, maintaining my neutral expression through years of practice. “Why would you say that?”
Her smile is pure mischief—knowing and slightly smug. “Because I talked to Olivia two weeks ago, and she told me about this terrible blind date she went on. Kind of hard to go on blind dates when you have a boyfriend, don’t you think?”
Clever girl. She’s sharper than I anticipated.
“You’re observant,” I say, sipping my water.
“Top of my class,” she replies without a hint of false modesty. “So... Why are you two pretending to be a couple?”
I consider my options. I could deny it, but something tells me Sophie won’t buy any story I concoct. Better to find an ally than an adversary.
“What if I said I like your sister?”
She doesn’t answer immediately, just studies me with an intensity that reminds me of Olivia in boardroom negotiations. “I can see that,” she says finally, decisively. “I see the way you look at her. Chase never looked at her like that.”
I’m surprised by how pleased I feel at her assessment. “He didn’t deserve her.”
“Obviously not. He’s a total jerk.” She narrows her eyes at me. “Are you using her?”
“No.” The answer comes instantly, firmly.
“Are you just trying to sleep with her?”
I nearly choke on my water. “That’s not an appropriate question. Aren’t you a little young to be—”
She shrugs, unrepentant. “I’m not that young, and someone has to look out for my sister. So are you?”
“No,” I say firmly. “That’s not what this is about.”
Sophie considers this, then nods, apparently satisfied.
“Good. Because she deserves someone who’s nice to her.
Someone who looks at her like she’s special.
” She tilts her head. “You’re rich, you’re nice to her family, and throughout our walk home from school, you kept looking at her when she didn’t know you were looking. I approve of you.”
“Thank you.” I feel amused. “Is it important to you that I’m rich?”
“Yes,” she says bluntly. “I want someone who will buy Olivia nice things. And take care of her. Chase never got her gifts. He’d give her handmade stuff.
And he’s got money. He is the town’s only vet.
Do you know what he gave her on her last birthday?
Olivia kept hinting that she liked a necklace.
It wasn’t even that expensive. I mean, she could have afforded the necklace herself.
It’s not like she wanted him to pay for it because she couldn’t afford it.
He just always said he’s not good at giving gifts so she told him what she wanted.
” Sophie makes a face. “He sent her a cheap bouquet. Like, he got it delivered to her apartment in Manhattan. He didn’t even bother flying out to see her.
And—” She leans even closer, her eyes flashing.
“—and he took Amber on a trip for her birthday two months ago. My sister deserves better.”
“She does,” I agree, my jaw tensing as I listen to the selfish man Olivia had tied herself to for the past decade.
We stare at each other, and then Sophie demands, “So this is really pretend for Olivia?”
I nod.
“But not for you?”
“Correct.” I set down my glass on the table.
Sophie is quiet as she mulls over this bit of information. “So why are you guys pretending? Is it because of Chase and Amber?”
“I can see why you’re top of your class.” I give her a small smile.
She grins in response. “You know, I can help you one-up Chase. Amber really likes to brag about Chase and everything he does for her. I can tell you when he’s planning to propose.
” A wicked glint enters her eyes. “He’s got a very specific plan.
Amber told him what her dream proposal is.
I know everything about it because Amber’s cousin from her Mom’s side is in my class. We can totally ruin the proposal.”
“Tempting,” I murmur. “Tell me what you know.”
A cackle escapes her lips, and I know this one is a little troublemaker. I’m glad she’s on my side.
* * *
I’m still processing Sophie’s information about Chase’s proposal plans when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Bob Hartley appears in the kitchen doorway, stopping short at the sight of his youngest daughter and her sister’s supposed boyfriend drinking hot chocolate five in the morning.
“Well, this is a surprise,” he says, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What are you two doing up so early?”
“Sophie made me hot chocolate.” I lift the mug in greeting.
“Alexander went for a run,” Sophie announces cheerfully. “In this weather. Can you believe it?”
Bob’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me. “A run? In December? In the mountains?”
“I like to stick to an exercise routine,” I explain lightly. “Keeps me focused.”
“That’s dedication,” Bob says, sounding impressed. He moves to the coffee maker, measuring out grounds and yawning. “So, what do you think of Silverbell Hollow so far?” he asks as the machine starts to burble and hiss.
“It’s charming,” I say honestly. “Very different from Manhattan.”
“That’s the point,” Bob says with a chuckle. “We like our quiet up here in the mountains.” He leans against the counter, waiting for his coffee. “You strike me as a city person through and through. Think you can handle a whole month in a small town?”
“I’m finding it more enjoyable than I expected,” I admit, and I mean it. Bob nods, seeming satisfied with that answer. His coffee finishes brewing, and he pours himself a generous mug.
Sophie bounces up from her chair. “I’m going to start running with him,” she declares. I nearly choke on my hot chocolate. That’s news to me.
Bob laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Is that so? You, the girl who complains about walking to the bus stop?”
“It’s good for discipline,” Sophie says primly, shooting me a conspiratorial look that her father doesn’t catch. “Right, Alexander?”
I recover quickly. “Absolutely. Discipline is important.”
Bob chuckles again, shaking his head. “Sure, sweetheart. If you can stay consistent for more than three days, I’ll buy you that glass painting kit you’ve been wanting.” Sophie’s eyes light up, and I make a mental note to ensure she actually follows through, if only to see her win that bet.
“Speaking of staying consistent,” Bob says, his tone shifting to something purposeful, “we need to start decorating today. Since you two are already up, I’ll head up to the attic and get those boxes down—”
“I’ll help,” I offer immediately.
Bob’s expression shifts to something between surprise and approval. “You sure? There’s a lot of them. Heavy, too.”
“I’m sure.”
“Well, then.” Bob claps his hands together, rubbing them with enthusiasm. “Let’s get started. No time like the present.”
I notice Sophie slowly edging toward the hallway, her movements subtle but deliberate. She’s almost made it to freedom when Bob reaches out without looking and grabs the collar of her sweatshirt.
“And where do you think you’re going?” he asks mildly.
“Bathroom?” Sophie tries.
“Nice try. You’re helping.”
“But, Dad—”