Chapter 5 #2
Olivia lives up Granger Hill where the houses resemble log mansions.
She has a doting mother, a loving father, and a brother thirteen years her senior who was out of the house by the time we met her.
Even though her parents are happily married, it’s her mom’s second chance for happily-ever-after.
She married Greyson's dad young, and they had a fairy tale life, but he died in a tragic accident.
She remarried pretty quickly and they added Olivia to their family.
Greyson's been enamored with Olivia since the day she was born, and fiercely protective. Poor girl didn’t go on her first date until college because Greyson put the fear of god into any boy who so much as looked her way.
So along with loving, present parents, she also lived in a clean, warm, fully furnished, fridge-always-full household.
We wished we could’ve lived there. We spent as much time there as we could, depending on if we could catch a ride up and down the hill with her parents.
Our parents sure as hell didn’t drive us to friends’ houses.
Not that they were ever sober enough to.
After high school, I worked as many part-time jobs as I could to help Delilah pay for college.
Up until last year, Delilah worked part-time at the market to pay for online college courses one and two at a time.
She's so close to finishing her degree and I'm so damn proud of her. Any spare money I saved went to Delilah’s meager bank account because her education is the most important thing to her, and I'll always do anything I can to help her.
Olivia graduated high school after us, as the valedictorian nonetheless, and had the pick of the litter of college acceptance letters.
She chose the University of Wyoming to stay close to her parents.
Out of state tuition was an easy price for her and her family to pay to stay connected.
I can’t fathom that level of love and support from anyone other than my sister.
Olivia graduated Summa Cum Laude with a bachelor’s degree in wildlife science, following in her dad’s footsteps.
She worked tirelessly in college to get internships and certifications so she could hit the ground running.
She loves being outdoors almost as much as she loves animals.
She missed her horse desperately while she was in college, she must be thrilled to be reunited with her girl, Maisey.
“This afternoon the three of us are celebrating our darling Olivia’s college graduation and birthday.
” I raise my glass and toast, “Cheers to the smartest and hottest piece of ass this side of the Colorado River!” We clink our glasses and take a sip.
Our food arrives and we dig in as Olivia fills us in on her time away at school, as well as her hopes, dreams and ambitions now that she's home for good.
My heart is full sitting across from the two people I love most in this world. I rub my foot against Delilah’s leg under the table and give her a kissy face and a wink. She mouths “love you” and smiles at me. Our plates are cleared, and drinks refilled.
Out of nowhere, Olivia leans forward across the table on her elbows to reach out and pinch me. “Ouch Livy! What was that for?”
“We didn't come to lunch just to talk about me, and you know it. I know you didn’t want to come home, but I'm so happy that you did!” Still halfway across the table, she smooshes my face between her palms until I look like a cartoon character. “Tell me about your new job!”
Ok, that I can handle. I don’t particularly feel like diving into the emotional complexities of my reputation, my departure, my absence, and my shame fueled return.
“Well, my angel sister should get all the credit.” Delilah rolls her eyes and tries to flick me across the table.
I yank my hand back. “Seriously though. Thanks to her unhealthy attachment to Connie…”
Delilah interjects, “Oh my god you know Connor hates when you call him Connie.”
“I know. Why do you think I do it?” I say with evil glee.
Connor’s been Delilah’s shadow, protector, and security blanket since they were tiny kids.
He and I have a friendly rivalry over who she loves more.
I always thought they’d get together, but they both adamantly and unwaveringly insist that they're just best friends.
“Anyhow, thanks to her unhealthy attachment to Cooooonniiiiieeeee, she recommended me for the new position at Swift Property Management.
I have no idea why they think I'm qualified to do the job, but I'm excited. They want to refresh their properties to get rental revenue up, and I think I can help. I basically get to do Pinterest for a living—it’s a dream come true. I'm going to style the shit out of those rentals.” I haven’t been this excited in a long time, and never about work.
“Aww babes, I'm so happy for you. Ten points to Connor! He can redeem them at the Bank of Lilah in the form of a kiss or an ass grab.” Olivia jokes.
Delilah elbows her in the ribs, “Stop, oh my god.” She's beet red, just like me when I'm embarrassed. “You know it’s not like that, Livy. But yes, he gets major kudos because he brought my sissy home! Instead of talking about me and Connor, why don’t we talk about Izzy and Reid Andersen?” Her eyes glimmer with mischief. That little traitor.
Olivia spits out her drink in a spray of carbonated mist. “What happened between Izzy and Reid Andersen? Have you seen him since you’ve been back? Saddle that cowboy and take me for a ride any day, amiright . Remember that time when we were in middle school and Reid?—”
I stop her right there. “Yes, yes, it was a very funny moment from when we were prepubescent and boy crazy.”
Livy interrupts between giggles, “More like man crazy. Reid was so hot back then.” She fans her face.
“What do you mean, back then?” I ask.
“Well, you know, back before his accid—before he—shit.” Livy gives me an awkward apologetic smile and hunches her shoulders in embarrassment.
I hate that people think of Reid like a case study in before and after. Yes, he's the Douche King of Doucheland, but he's still the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Stupid traitorous ovaries hijacking my common sense and stomping on my self-preservation…horny little bitches.
“Anyway—” Delilah prompts.
“Ok, fine.” I heave a heavy sigh and recount, in gruesome detail, the entire travesty that was the employee banquet. Delilah’s heard the story five times at this point, but Olivia’s flabbergasted.
“Let me get this straight. He knocks you over, spills his drink on you, mistakes you for a waitress, insults you, and embarrasses you in front of your new bosses, while sloshed. And you, Izzy the Warrior Princess, handed him his ass on a platter before disappearing like Cinderella when the clock struck midnight?”
That sums it up nicely. “Yep, that’s it. Except I didn’t lose a shoe.”
“And despite all this, you’re telling me that you’re going to be stuck with him in the dead of winter, on a six-month work assignment where you'll be breathing the same air, driving in the same car, eating at the same table, sleeping in the same homes, and working together nonstop?”
“I mean, I get to come home for the holidays, but yes. I'm handcuffed to Reid through the end of March. Most of the properties have more than one bedroom, or at least a pull-out sofa, so it’s not like we’ll be sharing a bed or anything.
” I have to keep telling myself this, because the idea of sharing a bed with Reid has ruined more pairs of panties than I can afford to replace.
“Besides, I have contingency plans if he continues to be a complete tool. I’ll start as Professional Boss Bitch Izzy. If he won’t fall in line and be an adult, I’ll kill him with kindness. If he still chooses to push like a toddler having a never-ending tantrum, I'm going to push right back.”
The girls wiggle in the booth. “That man has no idea what he’s in for.” Olivia sighs and shakes her head.
As Saturday afternoon fades into evening, I plan on preparing for my new job all day Sunday.
By Monday morning, I'll know Swift’s business inside and out.
I'm determined not to let Reid Andersen get under my skin. I won’t let his boorish behavior get me down.
I'll prove to him and everyone in town that they're wrong about me. Maybe it’ll be enough to repair my stained reputation.
I'm completely, 100 percent over my adolescent crush. I won’t get lost in his kaleidoscope eyes.
Or stare at his huge muscles. Or imagine running my fingers through his wavy hair and about how his thick beard would scrape across my neck.
Or crave to caress the scarred skin on the right side of his face.
Or stare at his tight ass in his jeans. Or fantasize about what it would feel like to have his enormous hands on me.
Or wonder what his cruel mouth tastes like. No, I'll be calm and composed.
I’m so screwed.
I'm not calm and composed. It’s 8:07 a.m. Monday morning and I'm already clenching my fists in an effort not to send them through Reid’s stupid face.
He's making me so furious I can barely stand to look at him. That’s a lie, I can’t stop looking at him.
Crackling fire warms the lobby as Reid paces back and forth running through my first day orientation.
I'm not paying attention whatsoever. I’m too distracted and I’m having difficulty comprehending anything from his rant because my brain is busy attempting to reconcile the Fantasy Reid from my memory with the Asshole Reid standing in front of me.
Dark grey Henley sleeves are pushed up to his elbows and his muscular forearms are flexing as he motions around explaining god knows what to me.
Why is that so hot? His jaw clenches in that sexy way that makes my neck involuntarily tick my head to one side. What’s wrong with me? I need to get my shit together. But he’s so pretty I could cry!
He’s so sexy with his brows furrowed, hair a touch too long, flipping out from beneath a worn baseball cap, and unkempt scruff covering his strong jaw.
His eyes are glinting in the light as they move about the room while he gesticulates his massive hands around as he talks.
Seriously, his hands are huge. I bet he could wrap one of them around my neck and?—
“Jesus christ, Isabelle! Are you even listening to me?” Reid snaps at me, pulling me from my stupor. I’m momentarily without a single functioning brain cell and just blink at him, mouth hanging open.
How long has he been talking? I zoned out sometime around “My mother’s hired you for reasons I don't understand and it’s apparently my responsibility to—”. Okay so I haven’t heard a word he’s said for the past—I glance at the clock on the wall—shit, ten minutes.
Gaining some control over my mush-brain, I respond. “I learn better if I’m shown what to do and can try it for myself. I’m honestly a poor listener.”
Reid knocks his hat back as he rubs both of his hands up and down his face in annoyance. “No shit,” he mumbles beneath his palms.
He paces in irritation, so every ten-ish feet when he turns away from me, I get the briefest glimpse at how his Wranglers hug his tight ass and tree trunk thighs. The hem of his jeans hit just right on his well-worn chestnut brown shit kickers.
It shouldn’t be legal for anyone to be this good looking. Frankly, it’s a safety hazard. I smile awkwardly at him and readjust in my chair. It’s going to be a long six months.