Chapter 4
Chapter Four
M y shoes hit the tarmac and time became my enemy. Twenty-five minutes to cross town. Five to navigate the parking garage and elevators. And somewhere in between, I had to figure out what the hell to do with Olivia. The weight of my watch seemed to mock each passing second.
Before Olivia’s bare feet were flat on the ground, I gently guided her with my hand on the small of her back to the black SUV awaiting us.
"Where are we going?" Olivia scanned the tarmac, disoriented.
I yanked open the SUV’s door and her bare feet shifted on the concrete. A gentle push on her shoulder, and she folded into the seat like a puppet with cut strings.
"I hadn't anticipated you coming so early." My fingers drummed against the door frame. "I have a meeting this morning that I can't miss, so we are going to my office."
Her eyes widened. I slammed the door on whatever protest was forming on her lips. Straightening my suit jacket, I strolled around to the opposite side, pulled open the door and slid in.
"Nick." My name ghosted from her lips. Her fingers worked the charred lace at her hem, twisting the fabric until it threatened to tear. "I can't go in there like..." The gesture she made at herself was barely more than a tremor.
The leather seat creaked as I turned to face her. "I'm sorry, Olivia." The smoke clinging to her hair made my eyes water. "I know this isn't the ideal situation, but I promise you won't be there for long. I'll have one of my assistants take you out shopping..."
Her head snapped up. "You're not going to take me?"
The knot in my stomach tightened. Her fingers hadn't stopped their desperate dance with the singed fabric. "I can't." The watch face caught the morning light, numbers marching relentlessly forward. "I have to be at this meeting in twenty minutes."
She folded in on herself, becoming smaller in the leather seat. The sharp smell of smoke clung to her hair, mixing with the car's new leather scent—a jarring reminder of whatever she'd fled from.
"Trust me." The words tasted hollow even as I said them. “I will make this super quick, and I’ll meet you after my meeting to get you settled.”
She nodded, her smile and tired eyes looking like the fight left her.
The city crawled by in slow motion while my pulse raced ahead. My driver took each corner with increasing urgency until we finally lurched into the parking garage. The SUV's tires squealed as we skidded to a stop at the elevators, throwing us forward in our seats. Time was winning.
“Let’s go, Olivia,” I ordered, shoving open my door, stepping out of the SUV, and spinning back to her. She hadn’t moved. “Olivia, please. Let’s go.”
"Nick." She hugged herself, the thin fabric of her nightgown a pathetic shield. "I'm not dressed and?—"
"Olivia." The name came out like a whip crack, harsher than I’d intended, but I had to get upstairs, and I couldn’t leave her here alone. I still had no idea why she had to leave in such a rush, and I didn’t have time to figure it out right now. “Get out of the car.” Her shoulders sank as her eyes met mine. I softened my tone. “I promise I will make this as quick as possible.”
She nodded as she slid across the seat and out of the SUV.
We rode the elevator from the basement parking garage up to the 6th floor.
Stepping off the elevator, I guided Olivia down a short hallway and through the office filled with open cubicles and employees who’d already started their workday.
“Good morning, Mr. Pears…” my newest intern Hannah’s words trailed off, and her smile faded as her gaze shifted from me to Olivia. All eyes followed her.
“Back to work, everyone,” I ordered, my tone firm.
“Hannah,” I snapped. “Where’s Rachel?” Rachel was the first person I’d hired when I started this business. She was a bitch, but she was damn good at her job.
Hannah scurried alongside us, her tablet clutched to her chest like a shield. "She's in her office, sir." Her eyes darted to Olivia's bare feet on the expensive marble floors.
My office door swung wide under my palm. "Rachel, my office now." The words echoed across suddenly silent keyboards.
The click of Rachel's heels announced her arrival before she appeared in the doorway. Her perfect blonde bun and precise eyeliner were weapons in her arsenal, just like the way she leaned against the doorframe—calculated casualness that said she had better things to do. Her gaze raked over Olivia's singed nightgown.
"Didn't realize we were running a shelter now." Rachel's manicured nails tapped against the doorframe, a metronome of judgment.
"Shut up, Rachel." I pinched the bridge of my nose, squeezing until pain gave way to pressure.
Rachel's head tilted, predatory curiosity in the gesture. "What's with the homeless girl?"
I didn't have time to explain. I needed to get Olivia out of there before my business partner and good friend, Justin Reid, came in. "She's not homeless; she's an old friend from out of town, and her house burnt down last night. Rachel, I need you to take her shopping, and Hannah, I need you to get ready for the meeting this morning."
Rachel's gaze raked over Olivia like a physical touch. "Uh, no way." Her lip curled. "It's not my job to take your charity cases shopping."
My fingers pressed into the edge of my desk until the wood bit back. "Rachel." The name tasted like acid. "She's not a charity case, and I don't have time for this right now."
Her hip swung out. "Charity case, fuck buddy, same thing." Each word landed like a slap.
The bridge of my nose found its way between my thumb and forefinger. "Rachel." The throbbing behind my eyes intensified. "Justin will be here any minute, and I need to get her out of here."
Her stilettos clicked against the floor as she advanced, each step precise as a knife point. "Look, just because you're embarrassed by your new fuck buddy doesn't mean I'm responsible for her." Rachel was still bitter about the one time I asked her to pick up one of my hookups when I was running late. I hadn’t told her who the woman was. She’d found out after. I didn’t think it mattered, but apparently it was tacky since she’d gotten on her knees for me the day before. To be fair, I didn’t lie to anyone. Everyone knew up front that I wasn’t monogamous. Lesson learned.
She straightened, smoothing her skirt. "No, my job description entails answering phones, scheduling appointments..." A predatory smile curved her lips. "And blowing you under the desk when you ask me to."
My eyes widened as the door slammed hard enough to rattle the blinds. In the silence that followed, even the air conditioning seemed to hold its breath. If there weren’t the possibility of a sexual harassment case, I would fire her.
I growled as my gaze shifted to Olivia, who was practically cowering in the corner, her eyes wide.
My attention turned to Hannah, who was fighting to control her facial expression. "She does not blow me under my desk," I lied.
"Not my business." Hannah shrugged. "But if you can do without your intern for the day, I'd be happy to take her shopping."
Hannah had only been my intern for four months. She was brilliant and competent, and she always got the job done efficiently and effectively, not to mention that she was hot, which was a nice benefit. She was an overachiever and willing to do anything I asked, and I should have thought about sending her with Olivia to begin with. Olivia and Hannah were closer in age, and Hannah wasn’t a bitch like Rachel. "That would be great. Have you already emailed me everything?"
"Yes, about thirty minutes ago."
"Perfect."
"What does she need?"
"Everything.” I was talking like Olivia wasn’t there to speak for herself. I guess a part of me still saw her as the twelve-year-old little girl I’d left behind in New York all those years ago. “She lost everything in the fire." I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet. "Have everything sent to my house." I handed her my credit card.
Hannah's fingers closed around the credit card, professional mask firmly in place. “Budget?”
I shook my head. "Make sure she gets what she needs." Another glance at the time. "But get her out of here before Justin arrives."
The corner of Hannah's mouth twitched upward, her chin lifting. "Worried about what Justin will think of her?"
My glare could have melted steel. "Not you too."
Her smile retreated. "Right." Her spine straightened to attention. "I'll drop her off at your house once we're done."
“Perfect.” I turned to Olivia. “This is Hannah, and she’s going to make sure you get what you need,” I repeated like she hadn’t been here for the entire conversation.
Olivia smiled softly.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Hannah pulled open the door and ushered Olivia out.
I followed them to the elevator, offering Olivia a reassuring smile as the doors to the right elevators closed and the left chimed open.
Right on time.
Justin emerged, radiating morning energy in his pressed black suit and tie. "Good morning." His gaze traveled from my wrinkled suit to my shadowed eyes. "You look like shit. Weren't you wearing that yesterday?" Justin and I weren’t just business partners we were friends. We’d met in college freshman year, and we’d built this business from the ground up.
I smoothed a hand down my rumpled jacket. "Yes, I had a late night." Though Justin and I had similar appearances; dark hair, with similar builds, today he was put together and I was a mess.
His eyebrows arched toward his hairline as his dark eyes met mine. "Does it have anything to do with the homeless girl who followed you into the office?"
I rolled my eyes. I should have known I couldn’t get anything past him. He’d probably spotted us on the security cameras the minute we stepped onto the elevator. "She's not homeless." The words came out sharper than intended. I modified my tone. "She's a family friend, and she had a rough night."
Justin fell into step beside me. "I'm sure you consoled her." The suggestion dripped from each word.
My jaw clenched. "It's not like that, and she's not my type."
He stopped short, nearly causing a collision with a passing intern. "Not your type?" His hand pressed against his chest in mock shock. "Not blonde?" A predatory grin spread across his face. "I have to meet this girl. I need to see what ‘not-your-type’ looks like.”
"No, she's not blonde, and she's not your type either."
He looked confused. "Does she stand upright on two legs, breathe oxygen, and have a pussy?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he laughed. This was a typical conversation between Justin and me; however, I didn't like him speaking of Olivia like that. "Do you always think with your dick?"
"Yes."
“Your guests have arrived,” Rachel announced. “I put them in conference room one.”
“Let’s do this.”