Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
O nly a matter of minutes after Olivia left my room, the panic started taking over my thoughts. It wasn't that what we did felt wrong; the problem was that it felt right, too right. I wanted to spend the entire day naked with her in the bed, on the floor, in the shower, in every room, and that was the problem. This desire and attraction were all new to me, which scared me. I did what came naturally and ran. I had planned to take Olivia to her first day of work, but I knew I couldn't face her right now; if I saw her, we wouldn't make it out of the house.
My hands shook as I fumbled with the keys, missing the ignition twice before finally starting the car. The leather seat felt like a sanctuary—somewhere I could breathe, think. I gripped the steering wheel, letting the cool material ground me before reaching for my phone. There was only one person I could trust with this.
Hannah picked up on the second ring, the clatter of her morning coffee routine in the background.
"Hannah, I need you to pick Olivia up this morning." I gripped the steering wheel until my fingers ached, the leather creaking under the pressure.
Keys jingled on her end. "Well, good morning to you too, Mr. Pearson." The slight edge in her voice made me wince.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. "Sorry, good morning."
"Of course I will, but I thought you were bringing her in?"
"That was my intention, but something came up." My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears.
A pause. "I wasn't notified of anything." The professional tone had returned.
"It's personal, Hannah." I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror—disheveled hair, shadows under my eyes—a stranger looking back at me. I looked away.
"Oh, okay, well, I'm already at the office, but I'll head that way now."
"Jackson will pick you up out front. Olivia needs to get her driver's license this morning, and then Jackson will drop you both off at the house to get Olivia's car and then go back to work. When she gets to the office, take her down to human resources and introduce her to Derrick Owens. I don't know when I'll be in, so keep an eye on her today."
"No problem. I'm on my way."
"Thanks, Hannah." I disconnected.
The city blurred past my windows as I drove without direction, muscle memory taking over while my thoughts spun like tires on ice. Each stoplight forced me to pause, to breathe, to think.
Red light. Green light. Red again. Each intersection forced a decision: turn back or keep going. By the third red light, Kathryn's office building emerged through the morning haze, its glass facade reflecting the sunlight like a beacon I'd been unconsciously seeking. Minutes later, the familiar brass directory in the lobby gleamed as I strode past it, my reflection fractured across its surface.
Outside her office, Judy's eyebrows rose at my disheveled appearance.
"I need to speak with Kathryn." My voice carrying the edge of desperation I'd been fighting since leaving the house.
"Mrs. Daniels has a full schedule today," the red-haired, fair-skinned, freckled woman stated. "You'll have to make an appointment."
"Tell her I'm here.” My voice cracked as I leaned over her desk.
Judy's french-manicured nails clacked against her keyboard. "Mr. Pearson, I'm sorry, but you'll have to make an appointment."
"You know what, never mind." I pivoted toward Kathryn's door, my shoes squeaking against the polished floor.
"You can't go in there!" The scrape of Judy's chair against tile and the rapid click of heels told me she was in pursuit.
I shouldered through the door to find Kathryn hunched over a half-eaten bagel, coffee cup frozen halfway to her lips. "Nick?"
"Kathryn." I let the familiar weight of her office door swing shut behind me, cutting off Judy's approaching footsteps.
Kathryn was not only my therapist. She was also a very close friend. We'd gone to college together. We'd shared one night, which we'd both realized wasn't what we wanted. I used to see her regularly, but lately, it was more like friendly talks than a therapist to a patient.
"Mr. Pearson." Judy threw open the door.
I turned to face Kat, purposely blocking Judy's path. "I need to speak with you."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Daniels. I told him he needed to make an appointment."
"It's alright, Judy; he can join me for breakfast."
"Are you sure?" Judy asked, eyes narrowed, mouth pursed, and giving me the once over. "I can call security." I laughed; she was too much.
"No, thank you, Judy."
Judy rolled her eyes at me and then left, shutting the door behind her.
"Well, that's one woman I can't charm to get what I want."
Kat pushed aside her breakfast plate, lips quirking into a smile. "What has your panties in a bunch?" She motioned to the chair across from her desk.
I waved off the offered seat, already wearing a path in her carpet. "My panties are fine, thank you. However, I need your advice."
She folded her hands on her desk, shifting from friend to professional in one smooth motion. "As a friend or as your therapist?"
My shoes squeaked against the floor as I pivoted. "A friend, but if it makes you feel better, you can send me a bill."
She laughed before eating the last bite of her breakfast. "Alright, then, what's got you all worked up?"
"Well, I'm sure the gang's told you that Olivia's here," I stated, already knowing she'd
heard.
"I'd heard a woman from your past was here, and I figured it was probably Olivia. Is this bad?"
"I was excited that she was coming here, but then one thing after another happened, and now, she's living with me." I paused, not knowing where I wanted this conversation to go. "And I'm attracted to her, and I'm having trouble keeping my hands to myself."
"What's wrong with that?" Kat asked, confused.
"A lot," I replied, pacing the room again. "She's like a sister to me; she's so young and innocent; my rules, I don't want to hurt her..."
"Well, first of all," she interrupted, "she's not your sister. She's a friend, an old family friend at most, and how does she feel about you?"
"She's attracted to me and interested in having sex."
"If she's willing and you are too..."
"I don't want to hurt her, and if she gets attached..."
"She's an adult and fully capable of making her own decisions, Nick. Give her some credit. If you are both willing, lay down the ground rules, and if you both agree, then I don't see the problem."
"She's a virgin."
"And? So what?" She shrugged. "Does that make her stupid or incapable of understanding your rules?"
"No, but she doesn't know how she'll feel after she has sex. She might get attached."
"Nick, you sound ridiculous." She laughed. "You know, it's time to let go of some of your rules. I'm not saying you need to marry the girl, but you should make the rules as you go."
"I like the rules. It keeps things less messy."
"Nick, what did you tell me last time you were here?"
I took a moment to think about the last time I was here and what exactly I'd told her. "That I was bored."
"Exactly. You said that you are bored with the same old same old and that you wanted something different, but you didn't know what. Maybe Olivia is what you were looking for. Again, I'm not saying you need to get married, but you can be friends with benefits."
"I don't know, Kat."
"Nick, I'm going to be honest with you because I'm your friend." Her tone shifted, the calm of the therapist giving way to something sharper. My feet stilled against her carpet, mid-pace. I met her gaze, my jaw tightening until I heard a faint click in my ear. I inclined my head once, a soldier preparing for the blow.
"It's time to move on." She paused, each word landing like a pebble in still water. "It's time to let Victoria go."
My fingers curled into fists at my sides, nails digging half-moons into my palms. "What are you talking about?" The photo on her desk caught my eye—the one from graduation, Victoria's smile frozen in time, her arm around Kat's shoulders, both of them suspended in a happiness that felt like ancient history. I forced my fingers to uncurl. "I moved on from Victoria a long time ago." The lie slipped out smooth as river stones
"Have you?" Kat's chair creaked as she leaned forward, elbows on her desk, her silver bracelets clinking together like wind chimes in a storm. Her eyes tracked my reflexive nod, seeing through it as she always had. "Look at the girls you sleep with, Nick." Each word measured, precise as a surgeon's cut. "They are all substitutes for Victoria. They all look identical to Victoria." She tapped the edge of the photo frame, turning it toward me like evidence in a trial.
I stalked to the window, putting my back to her. "Don't psychoanalyze me, Kat."
"I'm your friend, and you asked for my advice, so I'm being honest with you. You need to decide to either move on or get back with her." She was right, and it pissed me off. I was over Victoria, but I wasn't over what she'd done to me. "Nick, I think you should know that Tori will be back in town in a few days, and she's on the prowl again."
"What do you mean?"
"Her current fiancé wanted a prenuptial agreement signed before the marriage, and she refused, so he left. She's headed back to Florida. She's my friend too, but I disagree with her way of life, and I don't want you to get hurt again."
Automatically feeling defensive, I said, "She won't hurt me."
"Okay, well, it sounds like you need to do some thinking." She walked toward me and patted me on the shoulder. "Let me know if you need to talk again."
"Thanks, Kat." The word felt inadequate for the weight she'd just dropped on my shoulders.
I still had no idea what I was going to do but I knew everything Kat said was right.
The late morning sun slanted through my windshield as I merged onto the highway, Kat's words about Victoria echoing in my head like a warning bell. But with each exit sign I passed, thoughts of Victoria's return faded like old photographs, replaced by increasingly vivid images of Olivia. The dread that had driven me from the house this morning morphed with every mile marker, anticipation building in my chest until my hands itched to grip something other than the steering wheel.
I pulled into my reserved spot, practically rushing to the elevator.
The doors opened to our floor, and I found Rachel sitting behind her desk, filing her nails.
I scanned Hannah's empty office, before turning to Rachel. "Where's Hannah?" The question came out sharper than intended.
Rachel's nail file paused mid-stroke, suspended above her pinky finger. Her gaze flicked up to mine, assessing. "She went to lunch with the homeless girl." Her glossed lips curled into a sneer, the peach color suddenly garish against her pale skin.
"Where?" I planted my hands on the edge of her desk, leaning forward
She flicked her wrist dismissively, the diamond tennis bracelet catching the light. "It's not my day to babysit them." She swiveled her chair, presenting me with her profile—a deliberate dismissal.
My palm cracked against her desk before I could stop myself, the sound echoing down the hallway. Her expensive moisturizer bottles danced across the glass surface, one teetering dangerously at the edge. Rachel's manicured nails dug into her armrests as she jolted upright, her eyes widening, the color draining from her face save for two spots of angry red high on her cheekbones.
"Rachel," the word came out low and measured, "do you like your job?" I'd had enough of her attitude.
The color drained from Rachel's face, her perfectly lined lips pressing into a bloodless seam. Her nail file clattered to the desk, and for once, she didn't reach to save her precious manicure. Her nod was so slight it barely disturbed her structured curls.
"Then I'm going to ask you one more time: where did they go to lunch?"
"The cafeteria."
"Thanks." I bolted for the elevators.
The ride to the first floor stretched like pulled taffy, each floor's gentle chime marking time I couldn't get back. The scent of coffee and reheated leftovers hit me before the doors opened, along with the steady hum of afternoon conversation. Through the glass doors, the cafeteria spread out like a chess board of white tables and dark suits. But my eyes found Olivia instantly as if they'd been searching for her all along, her laughter carrying across the room.
I glanced around to see what or who was the cause of that smile when I noticed the two men sitting across from her engrossed in every word she said. My jaw clenched, my fists curling at my sides as I watched them lean in closer. She pushed to her feet and they followed her every move. I stepped forward, then forced myself to stop, uncurling my fingers. Instead, I left and headed back to my office.
By the time I got back, Rachel was gone for lunch. Stepping into my office, and realized I wasn't alone. Turning around, I groaned at the naked woman lying on my couch. "Kaylee, what are you doing here?"
"It's Monday. Did you forget?"
Fuck, I had forgotten. Every Monday, Kaylee met me at lunchtime.
"Look, I'm sorry, Kaylee, but I can't do this today." I ran a hand down my face. “Or actually, I can’t do this anymore.”
The leather couch creaked as she rose, all six inches of her stilettos carrying her across the carpet. Her perfume—too similar to Victoria's—filled my lungs as she pressed against me. Cool fingers traced my tie, and drifted lower.
The door handle's metallic click pierced the silence.
"Nick—" Olivia's voice died in her throat. Her portfolio slipped from her fingers, papers scattering across the threshold. "Oh my god. I'm sorry."
"Olivia—" My hands shot to my belt, shoving Kaylee back hard enough to make her stumble. But Olivia was already gone, the door clicking shut with devastating finality, leaving only the ghost of her shocked expression burned into my retinas. "Get dressed and get out, Kaylee." I tossed her coat toward her and ran out after Olivia.
I wasn't sure what my problem was. I'd been frank with Olivia that I would be sleeping with other women, but I didn't want to rub it in her face either. I noticed the door to the stairway was open and took off after her. She wasn't that far ahead of me, thanks to her heels.
"Olivia, stop." My voice echoed in the stairwell, bouncing off concrete and steel to return to me distorted and foreign.
She took the stairs faster, the click-click-click of her heels on metal creating a frantic rhythm. "It's fine, Nick." Her voice was carefully controlled, not matching her hurried steps. "Go back to her. I need to get back to work anyway." The last word wavered.
Three steps brought me to her level, my longer stride eliminating her head start. I caught her elbow, gentle but firm, the silk of her blouse cool beneath my fingertips. She stilled but didn't turn. "Olivia," I said again, softer. "Stop. Please."
She turned slowly, her gaze fixed on my collar as if the knot of my tie held answers. Her hands fidgeted with her bracelet, twisting the delicate chain until I feared it would snap. "Another friend?" The question hung between us, deceptively light.
"Yes." The word tasted bitter, like coffee left too long on the burner. I swallowed hard. "Olivia, I'm sorry." My thumb brushed against her arm, an unconscious movement I couldn't stop.
She smoothed her skirt with trembling fingers, the charcoal fabric bunching beneath her palms before settling. "You don't have anything to be sorry about." Her voice steadied with visible effort, professional mask slipping back into place. "I should have knocked. It was my fault." Her eyes remained fixed on a point just past my shoulder, never quite meeting mine.
"Olivia." I stepped closer, close enough to catch the scent of her perfume—something light, floral, nothing like Victoria's. Nothing like Kaylee's. "I didn't know she was there. She caught me off guard when I came in." I searched her face for understanding, for forgiveness I hadn't earned.
"Nick, it's fine." The words emerged clipped, contradicted by the way she bit down on her bottom lip, teeth pressing into the soft flesh until it whitened beneath the pressure.
My pulse thundered in my throat, the sound of rushing blood drowning out the distant office noises. Her teeth released her lip, leaving tiny indentations that my thumb itched to smooth away. The mark of her anxiety, of my failure, branded into her skin
The space between us crackled with electricity, charged like the air before a summer storm. My body swayed forward involuntarily, like a compass finding north, like gravity pulling me into her orbit. Her breath hitched, a small sound that shot straight through me, settling low in my stomach?—
And then Hannah's voice shattered the moment like breaking glass, shards of possibility scattering at our feet. "Everything okay?"
I dropped my hand from Olivia's arm, the warmth of her skin lingering on my palm. "Yes."
Hannah's heels clattered against the concrete stairs. "Mr. Pearson, there's a Mr. Walker on the phone. He said he needs to speak with you now."
I leaned close to Olivia, my breath stirring the wisps of hair by her ear. "We'll talk about this later."
She tucked a strand behind her ear, nodding once before disappearing through the fire door.
Back in my office, I sank onto my couch, the leather still warm from Kaylee's earlier presence. "Hey, Walker, you got some news for me?"
His exhale crackled through the line. "I found Emmett."
My stomach knotted. "And?"
"And I think you should fly up." Something rustled on his end—papers being shuffled.
I pressed my fingers against my temple. "That bad?"
A chair creaked as Walker presumably leaned back. "I'm not entirely sure, but I’m emailing some paperwork for you to go through before you get here." His pen tapped against his desk. "Can you get here by tomorrow?"
My calendar glowed on my screen, tomorrow's meetings already dissolving in my mind. "Yes, I'll be there by eight."
"See you tomorrow." The line went dead.
Within minutes, my phone chimed, alerting me to a new message. I sank into the seat at my desk and went through my emails. I had no idea what Emmett was up to, but he was definitely involved in something that put both him and his sister’s life in danger.