10. Brett
Brett
Winter in Chicago had a way of making everything feel sharper—conversations included. I sat across from Jerritt and Vahn in the private conference room of our law firm as we waited to finalize the contract details for our latest project—or at least, we tried to.
“Brett, you signing off on these numbers?” Vahn asked, tapping the stack of papers in front of him.
“Yeah, they’re solid.” I leaned back, rubbing the back of my neck. “If the zoning board doesn’t throw a wrench in things, we’re good.”
Jerritt grinned. “Speaking of wrenches… how’s Olivia?”
I sighed. “I’m working on it.”
Vahn flipped his pen between his fingers. “You two have that whole push-pull thing going. Sparks. Heat.” He smirked. “Do you think you two will resolve whatever is going on between you two?”
“Nothing to resolve,” I shot back, but even I knew that was bullshit. Olivia was like a song I couldn’t stop humming—annoying as hell, impossible to forget.
Jerritt chuckled. “C’mon, man, we’ve known you too long. You get that look when she’s around. It’s the same one you had in college—before you screwed it up.”
I bristled. “Thanks for the reminder.”
Vahn leaned forward, elbows on the table. “I would nip it in the bud now if I were you. Otherwise, this is going to get complicated fast.”
I stared at him. “Why do you sound like a guidance counselor?”
“Because I’m the only one in this room with common sense.”
After the meeting with our lawyer, Vahn stood, buttoning his coat. “I’ve got an appointment. You two try not to be idiots.”
“Big ask,” Jerritt muttered as Vahn walked out. “So, you’re driving me back to the office?”
“Unless you wanna take a cab. I need to get some paperwork done anyway.”
Jerritt grinned. “Nah, I like annoying you.”
Outside, the cold wind slapped me in the face as we climbed into my black Range Rover. The city lights reflected off the icy streets, throwing blue light over the dashboard.
Jerritt clicked his seatbelt. “Alright, hear me out.”
“This should be good,” I sighed, pulling into traffic.
“You should go for Olivia.”
My eyes widened. “You, of all people, are saying that? In college, you and Vahn practically staged an intervention to keep me away from her.”
Jerritt sighed. “Yeah… about that. We were wrong.”
I shot him a look. “You don’t say.”
He pursed his lips and then turned to look at me. “I’m going to admit something. We were both jealous.”
That threw me. “Of what?”
He exhaled, watching the city blur past the window. “She was into you. Really into you. And neither of us had that—not with anyone. I guess it pissed us off. We saw how she looked at you and felt we would lose you to her.”
I gripped the steering wheel. “Unbelievable. You two are idiots, same as me for listening to you.”
Jerritt shrugged. “I’m saying you don’t have to keep proving it.”
I didn’t answer. Olivia was fire—beautiful, dangerous, impossible to hold without getting burned. And yet, I wanted to try every time I was near her.
Jerritt smirked. “You’re thinking about her right now, aren’t you?”
“Shut up.”
He laughed. “Man, you are so screwed.”
I pressed the gas, letting the roar of the engine drown out whatever the hell I was feeling. But deep down, I knew Jerritt was right. I’d never stopped wanting Olivia Shaw. The only question was—what the hell would I do about it?
Jerritt leaned back in his seat, still watching me with that smug expression. “You know, I get why you’re hesitating. Work, history, the whole package. But man, you’re a different guy now. Maybe it’s time you let her see that.”
I exhaled sharply. “She sees me just fine.”
“Yeah? And what does she see? The same guy who walked away years ago? Or the one who’s been busting his ass to prove he’s not that guy anymore?”
I didn’t answer right away. Olivia wasn’t the type to forgive quickly. She held onto things—good and bad. And I had been the bad.
Jerritt chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s got a sharp tongue. That has to be half the appeal.”
I smirked. “You’ve been on the other end of that tongue a few times, same as me.”
“Oh, I have. And I walked away unscathed. You, on the other hand?” He gestured at me. “Still bleeding.”
I rolled my eyes. “I plan on closing the wound and letting it heal.”
He grinned. “Now, are you actually going to do something about your feelings, or will you keep brooding like some tragic hero in a bad romance novel?”
I turned onto Michigan Avenue, the city skyline stretching ahead. “I don’t brood.”
Jerritt snorted. “You absolutely do.”
I sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. Maybe he was right. Perhaps it was time to stop running in circles and just go for it.
But Olivia Shaw wasn’t a woman you won over with half-measures. If I went for her, I’d have to go all in.
And that was terrifying as hell.
Rochelle strolled into my office, her arms crossed, lips curled in that smug little smirk that always meant trouble.
Her long, straight black hair was impeccably sleek, not a strand out of place, and her light green eyes practically glowed with mischief.
Dressed in a fitted blazer that emphasized her curves—something she always did effortlessly—she leaned against the door frame.
Anyone else might have been distracted by her looks and voluptuous body, but I wasn’t.
Rochelle was a good friend, an even better colleague, and a relentless instigator, nothing more.
She tilted her head, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Are you in love with Olivia?” She walked toward me.
“Well, that question is out of the blue, no? Of course not. What gave you that idea?”
Rochelle planted her hands on my desk, leaning in like she had some grand revelation. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off her at the gallery. Or the way you hovered like some lovesick bodyguard. Or how your jaw twitched every time she smiled at another guy.”
I sat back in my chair, rubbing my jaw. “You’re quite mistaken, Rochelle.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. “Men! You can be so clueless. Oh, and by the way—she’s in love with you too.”
I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, right. You’ve lost your mind.”
But Rochelle just winked and walked out, leaving me sitting there like an idiot, staring at the door. Because the thing was… I wasn’t in love with Olivia. That would be ridiculous. Impossible.
Right?
When I pulled up to Maven & Moss, I was still mentally scoffing at Rochelle’s nonsense. In love. Please. Olivia and I had a complicated, tension-filled, occasionally combustible history. Sure, there were some intense feelings between us, but love?
I shook off the thought and strode into the building, the winter chill clinging to my coat. The lobby smelled like expensive coffee and fresh-cut flowers. Sleek, modern lines, exactly Olivia’s style. Not that I noticed.
Okay, I noticed.
Halfway to the elevator, I spotted her at the reception desk, deep in conversation with Kansas Walker.
Olivia’s long black hair gleamed under the recessed lighting, her tailored dress hugging her curves just right.
She was gesturing, her hands moving in sharp, confident motions.
Her passion always had a way of pulling people in. Hell, it had pulled me in once.
Kansas smirked when she saw me. “Well, well, if it isn’t Brett Collins himself.”
Olivia turned, her striking eyes locking onto mine. That blue-green gaze could make a man forget his own damn name. “Brett. What are you doing here?”
I shrugged, playing it cool. “Business. Thought I’d check in on my favorite designer.”
Her brow arched. “Flattery won’t get you out of whatever you’re about to ask me for.”
Kansas whistled under her breath. “And that, my friends, is why I love my job. Watching this unfold is the highlight of my day.”
“Shouldn’t you be securing something?” I shot back.
“Oh, I am. My entertainment for the morning.”
Olivia sighed. “Do you have an actual reason for being here, or are you here just to annoy me?”
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice. “Maybe both. I suppose I could have called.”
She visibly pulled in a heavy breath, then blew it out slowly—just for a second, but I caught it.
Kansas made a gagging noise. “God, you two have unresolved tension dripping from your pores. It’s honestly obscene.”
“Kansas,” Olivia warned, shooting her a look I understood to be Olivia silently asking Kansas not to comment further. It was interesting to watch.
“What? You two should just rip each other’s clothes off and fight about it afterward.”
Olivia gasped. “Kansas!”
Kansas grinned before adding, “Someone had to say it.” She walked off, laughing.
“Don’t let me stop you from doing what you need to do,” I said. “I’ll wait for you.”
She mumbled something under her breath that I was pretty sure wasn’t flattering, then turned sharply on her heel, heading toward her office. I followed, ignoring Kansas’s exaggerated wolf whistle.
Inside, Olivia shut the door and turned to face me, arms crossed. “I don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing today, Brett.”
“Who says I’m playing anything?”
Her jaw tightened. “Because you always are. You don’t take anything seriously.”
“That’s not true.”
She scoffed. “Really? Name one serious thing in your life.”
“Chloe.”
That shut her up. Her lips parted slightly, her gaze softening just a fraction. “Chloe?”
As I stood there staring at her, it suddenly dawned on me that I would now have to tell her about Chloe. It was likely going to ruin any chance I had with her. Not because I had a daughter but because I hadn’t told her about Chloe yet. This would be fun. “My daughter.”
The silence was deafening as I waited for her to say something—anything. I watched her expression change from disbelief to shock, then confusion, and straight to anger. This was going to be a doozy.
Her eyes narrowed. “You have a daughter?”
“Yes, I do.” I offered her no more information because I wanted her to ask questions.
“How old is she?”
“Twelve.”
I saw her do the math in her head. “That’s right after we were together.”
“Yes, it is.”