11. Olivia
Chapter eleven
Olivia
I can’t stop my heart from racing—a rhythm of fear mixed with excitement about how today’s meeting might play out and whether I’ll end up in another fight with Elliot. We haven’t spoken a word since that night at the beach and his apology. Even Daniel hasn’t heard from him, as he’s been busy finalizing the wedding menu, which is approaching faster than any of us anticipated.
Elliot was sweet that night, a staggering difference from the man everyone knows him to be, but there’s no saying he won’t show up here grumpy, back to his old self.
“Isn’t that what you want?” my subconscious whispers. And yes, maybe I want that so my confused feelings can be clarified, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for it—especially after seeing how kind he can be.
“I hate you, Elliot, for trying to sway my fragile heart,” I mutter aloud, kicking a few pebbles in frustration.
“Okay, hatred noted,” Elliot’s voice laced with laughter startles me. I bang my hip against the hood of Julia’s car, which I drove here.
“Ouch!” I groan, rubbing at the sore spot.
I look up, all the blood rushing to my face as I take in his appearance. His hair’s still damp, like he’s just stepped out of the shower. Today, he’s dressed in a crisp white shirt, navy blue pants, and black boots that give him an air of someone who’s headed somewhere important—maybe even a date with the other woman he once wished he had feelings for. But that isn’t any of my business.
“Have you been waiting long?” he asks, and I’m momentarily speechless, struggling to form a response.
His hand moves to my forehead, and I flinch under his touch. “Don’t do that,” I say, stepping back and accidentally bumping my hip into the hood again.
“Great, at this rate, I’ll need a hip replacement surgery,” I grumble, and he smiles, the kind of smile that makes my heart flutter despite my frustration.
“You should breathe, Ollie. You look like a cherry about to pop,” he teases, pointing at my face, and that doesn’t help my embarrassment at all.
“I’m breathing, dude.”
“I can see that,” he says sarcastically, glancing down at my tee-shirt. The words “I’m Still Breathing” are emblazoned across it, part of a mental health awareness campaign I attended.
“Haha, funny joke, but you shouldn’t have drowned yourself in cologne,” I snap, walking away so he won’t find something else to point out about me.
My cheeks are hot, my hips throb, and I feel like a walking disaster. I might as well be nicknamed Miss Clumsy, considering how I always seem to trip over myself when Elliot’s around. Whether it’s falling into the ocean, bumping into things, or dressing like a banana, his presence makes me feel like a fool, reinforcing his claims that I’m delusional or worse. I don’t want to give him more ammunition.
When I step into Emma’s office, I’m still reeling from the embarrassment. It’s hard to even look at Elliot, not when I’m unsure whether he’s going to say something that’ll make my heart race or make me mad.
Emma claps her hands excitedly, her eyes gleaming as she turns on the projector. “Great to see you both together! Now, let’s dive into the plans for Julia’s rehearsal dinner.”
Elliot’s quiet this time—no mean comments, just the occasional grunt or nod when asked for his opinion. At least he’s letting things go smoothly. Although he still has his objections, like when the idea of flower petals on the ground comes up.
“If we’re using my restaurant, I don’t want to deal with any accidents. Servers could slip on petals, and I don’t need to be responsible for it,” he says, his voice stern but logical. So, we reluctantly agree to scrap the petals.
“My house, my rules,” he says, which gives him some leverage, since he’s offering his largest function room for the event.
By the end of the meeting, we remain seated, no hair out of place, no shouting. It’s a significant improvement from our last encounter.
“Great, so we’ll have a quick rehearsal dinner tomorrow evening. Do you think we can fit that into your restaurant schedule?” Emma asks, watching Elliot closely, clearly anticipating some resistance.
“Sure, I’ll call my assistant to start getting things in order. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make a call,” he says, bowing slightly, before walking out of the room.
Emma stares after him, almost as if she can’t believe what just happened. “I guess miracles do happen,” she says, and we both giggle.
“I don’t think we can call it a miracle yet,” I reply. “He could still pull a 180.”
Emma shakes her head. “Nah, if he was going to do that, he would’ve stopped us from the beginning. Elliot and flowers? That’s almost unimaginable.”
She’s right. Elliot isn’t exactly the type for this kind of thing, but after our last encounter at his restaurant, where he shifted from gruff to gentle, I wonder if he’s capable of much more if he chose to be.
I pull Emma close, glancing at the door to make sure Elliot isn’t about to walk back in. “I think I’ll need your help with something else, Em, something I didn’t mention because of you-know-who.”
Her silence answers my question before she speaks. “Does it have something to do with love and making our plans even grander?” Her eyes sparkle with excitement, and my smile grows.
“This is why we should be soul sisters, Em.”
“Tell me, what do you need?” she says, pulling out her iPad to take notes.
“Candles. Lots of candles,” I wink, and she nods eagerly.
As we head out of the office, I notice Elliot’s suspicious glances, but I’m not about to tell him anything. He has a knack for ruining surprises.
“Can we go now? I’ve got business meetings outside of town,” he says, looking tense.
“Sure, see you tomorrow evening,” Emma waves us off.
Elliot looks like he’s running out of time. “So, you’re dressed like this and smell like a cologne factory because of a business meeting?” I tease as I grab a Diet Coke from my bag.
“Yeah, if you put it that way,” he replies casually. “I’m meeting with my associates about a new location we’re considering opening.”
“Another Parsley’s? Don’t you already have seven across the state?”
He laughs confidently. “Eight, actually. But there’s an opportunity to expand, so we’re taking it.”
The pride in his voice is both annoying and inspiring. I know what it’s like to be passionate about something, just like I am about my blog. The feeling of knowing my advice reaches people across the world is something I treasure.
“Well, you should get going; the drive to the city is pretty long,” I suggest, taking a sip of my Coke.
“I’m leaving soon, just waiting for Aaron and my driver,” he says, not looking at me. “I have a helicopter waiting just outside…”
Before he can finish, I choke on my drink, bursting into a coughing frenzy.
“For heaven’s sake, Ollie, be more careful,” he groans, taking the can from my hand and patting my back gently.
I knock his hand away. “You just said you have a helicopter like it’s a washing machine everyone owns, Elliot. Who even are you?” My surprise at how much money he has still lingers.
“I’m Elliot Sharp. Not the overhyped CEO the magazines paint me to be. I’m a pain in your neck, and that’s all you need to know, beautiful,” he says with a wink.
“Get away from me, psycho,” I snap, grabbing my drink back just as another car pulls up with two chauffeurs and Aaron.
Great, now he has an entourage. Aaron grins widely, and Elliot growls at him before they exchange some unspoken signals.
“I’m out of here. See you tomorrow evening,” I say, but Elliot pulls me back.
“Aaron will take you home,” he says, cutting me off before I can protest.
“No, I’d rather drive myself—”
“Aaron, please take her home while the others sort out the cars,” he says, his voice final, and I’m left with no choice but to follow Aaron into the car.
As we drive off, I blurt out the first question that comes to mind. “Is he like this with everyone?”
Aaron laughs. “You mean charming to women? No, he only does this with you. So, he must find you pretty interesting.”
“What did you just say?” I stammer, sure I’ve misheard him.
“He finds you interesting. It’s amusing how you two are the only ones blind to the obvious tension between you,” Aaron repeats, and my brain stumbles over his words.
Now, his words paint vivid pictures—Elliot’s smile, his unexpected gentleness, and Aaron’s comment: Elliot Sharp finds me interesting.
Should I be happy, or should I run away? My mind already knows the answer—run as fast as I can.