27. Alex
27
ALEX
I stepped off the elevator and hurried down the hallway to my apartment. I told Olivia to be at my place by 8:00, and it was 8:15. I found her pacing between our doors. When she heard my footsteps, she turned around and her shoulders relaxed.
“Oh, there you are,” she said. “I thought you changed your mind. I knocked a few times and got no answer.”
I approached her with raised eyebrows as I took in her appearance. She was wearing leggings and a t-shirt and her hair was piled haphazardly on top of her head. Every time I saw her without her tough CEO armor, I melted a little. “So you thought you’d pace the hallway for…?”
“Ten minutes,” she confirmed as crimson patches bloomed on her cheeks. “You know how I get when I’m on edge.”
“Mhmm.” She’d wear a hole in the goddamn floor… if no one was around. God forbid Olivia Brentwood showed that she was human… to anyone except me, I guess. As much as she trie d not to, she still showed me her vulnerable side. “I didn’t change my mind. The tea party ran late.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Tea party?” She then blinked. “Are those rubber bands in your hair? What are those on your nails?”
I grinned as I opened my door. “Yes, and it’s paper.” When I closed the door behind us, I ran a hand over my wacky hairstyle. “Do I look bonita ? I feel bonita .”
Olivia gawked at me and then she snickered. “You look ridiculous .”
Chuckling, I shrugged. “The host of the tea party demanded that I get a new hairdo, and she thought pink nails would go well with my ‘ pretty’ hairstyle.” I lifted my hands and wiggled my fingers, which had coral-pink construction paper taped to them.
“Who exactly did you spend the day with?” she asked.
I smiled broadly and affection was probably stamped on my face. “A five-year-old. The coolest kid in the land.”
She let out a little laugh. “Oh… well, that explains the tea party and the nails…”
“Yup.” I headed to the kitchen and Olivia followed. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes, and where did you find a five-year-old?”
“Good, so we can get right to the drinking.” I needed a little alcohol in my system to be okay with the knowledge that I agreed to work with my ex-girlfriend to take down a corrupt businessman as if we were fucking superheros. As I aimed for the liquor cabinet, I asked, “Remember Michael?”
“Vaguely. He’s one of the members of your boy band, right?”
“Hilarious. He’s one of the five , yes. As I recall, that's what you used to call us. ”
Olivia smiled. “I didn’t see much of Michael or James back in college. They were the more introverted ones, right?”
“Uh-huh.” I gathered ingredients to make her favorite cocktail. However, as I filled the tumbler with ice, I paused when I remembered that I hadn’t made Olivia a cocktail in about a decade. Her taste might have changed. “I should have asked what you wanted.”
She glanced at the bottle of vodka, coffee liqueur, and cream. Her face lit up. “You’re on the right track. White Russian is still my favorite.”
A mix of emotions surged through me at seeing how much I still knew her and how comfortable we could still get around each other despite everything. I mean, the two of us in my kitchen like this was a disgustingly sweet picture of domesticity. “Right.”
Olivia nibbled on her lower lip as her gaze slid away from me. “You were telling me about a five-year-old, how your hair got into that mess, and why you’ve still got pink construction paper taped to your fingernails.”
I grinned. “I was. Michael has a five-year-old daughter. He’s in Manhattan for a while and I agreed to babysit today.” I poured her cocktail into a glass, poured some whiskey for myself, and took a seat beside her. “Poppy demanded that I look presentable for her tea party, so she gave me a makeover.”
Olivia’s laughter floated around me, bringing out my smile. I plucked my phone out of my pocket to show her the selfies that little Poppy also demanded we take. She bellowed when she saw me posing in a tiara.
I pointed to the stuffed lion I held. “That’s Kitty Kat… with a K . She was another guest at the tea party.” I slid my finger across the screen to bring up a photo of me with a little blonde girl who practically hung around my neck. Her little arms circled my neck and her cheek was pressed against mine. She wore the biggest smile and her eyes twinkled with laughter. “And that’s Poppy.”
Olivia stared at the picture, a smile stretching her lip. “She’s such an adorable little girl.”
“That she is, and we all spoil her rotten. She says I’m her ‘ funnest’ uncle. It’s our little secret though. The others can’t find out.”
She chuckled. “I bet you are. You allowed her to do your hair and put fake nails on you. You wore a tiara.”
“No one was allowed into the party without one.” I shrugged and took a sip of my drink. “Besides, I made that tiara look good.”
Olivia rolled her eyes and reached for her drink. “You’re so full of yourself. And I can’t believe you came home like that.” She waved a hand to encompass the multi-colored rubber bands that held my short hair in spiky little ponytails.
“I’m secure in my masculinity,” I joked as I inspected my nails. “But I’d better get these off.” I started plucking the paper off my fingernails and grumbled, “I’ll be in real trouble when Poppy starts to experiment with actual nail polish.”
“Brace yourself. She might also use you as her doll when she gets into makeup.”
I frowned at that.
Olivia chuckled and sipped her cocktail. “This is good. You’re still a master mixologist.”
“I am.” I winced when I yanked a rubber band from my hair. Soon, I had them all out and I combed my fingers—which were now free of pink paper nails— through my hair.
“Ah, I can look at you without breaking out into giggles now,” Olivia said.
I grinned. “Laugh all you want, but I bet I could have gone out looking like that and still would’ve gotten some… I mean, sex.”
She snorted. “Yeah, yeah, it’s common knowledge that you see more pussies than a gynecologist, Alex.”
I almost choked on my next sip of whiskey. Turning to gawk at her, I let out a laugh. “What?”
“Your love life is very public.”
“Correction— sex life. I don’t have a love life.” Since I liked messing with her to see her prudish reactions, I drawled, “And I’ve only seen one pussy the last few weeks.”
She sputtered on her next sip and said in her usual reprimanding tone, “Alex.”
I hid my smirk behind my glass.
We were quiet for a while until she spoke. “Alex?”
I glanced at her, instantly putting my guard up because of her somber expression. “Yeah?”
“It seems you’re really good with Poppy. Have you ever thought about having kids?”
I gaped and then I snorted. “Have you met me? I can’t have kids. I’d be the worst influence.”
“I don’t think so. The five-year-old in that picture says otherwise. She looked so happy hanging out with you.”
“Yeah. I’m the fun uncle, not father material.”
“So you don’t want kids ever?”
“No…”
Olivia’s brows furrowed as she put her glass down and absently traced the rim with a finger. “Why not?”
Were we really having this conversation? It seemed so intimate… in the sense that she and I weren’t in a place where we could comfortably discuss such things. “I guess I shouldn’t say I don’t want them. I love kids. I have a blast with Poppy. I just don’t see myself having any of my own because I don’t plan on se ttling down with anyone long enough to get that far. Kids need stability…”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“What about you?” I asked.
A shadow of a smile formed on her lips, but her eyes shone with such sadness that I wanted to reach out and stroke her cheek just to comfort her. “I used to think about having kids but not anymore.”
My eyes narrowed on her face. I got the feeling that the time she thought about it was when we were young and foolishly thought we’d be together forever. I pictured the whole domestic scene with her once. Marriage, the house in the burbs, kids, pets…
I tumbled down memory lane to the night when we first made love. As we basked in after-sex bliss, still wrapped up in each other, she’d blurted that we should get married. I had immediately agreed, and I was serious. I really did want to marry her…
I pulled myself back to the present and swallowed the lump of self-loathing that wanted to rise. It happened every time I thought about how stupid I was to think that she loved me the way I loved her.
Olivia seemed to be far away in her head too and then she blinked and looked at me. She must have seen the thunderous look on my face because her eyebrows drew together. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” The lie came out more brusque than I intended. “I think we’ve wasted enough time. We should get to work, maybe come up with a plan on exactly what we’re going to do about Don Weaver.”
Her expression shuttered and her shoulders stiffened. “You’re right,” she said, her tone cool and professional. The Ice Princess had arrived, and it was for the best. These intimate moments between us were getting to be too much.
I nodded, pushing aside all lingering emotions as I reached for the laptop I’d left on the counter this morning. “I’ve already got dirt on Weaver… obviously, but I have to go deeper.”
“Ugh.” She massaged the bridge of her nose. “After what you already showed me, I’m terrified of what we’ll find if you dig any deeper.”
The sigh that escaped me was slow, and it resonated with weariness. I’d seen some pretty depraved shit in the darkest corners of cyberspace, and I wasn’t too keen on seeing anymore. However, I had to do this. Olivia was right.
Perhaps I’d always been the White Knight even when I was a kid. My conscience would go haywire and my brain would probably short-circuit if I didn’t do the right thing and stop Weaver before he hurt anyone else… especially the woman sitting beside me.
My friends were right. Getting mixed up with Olivia was a bad idea. I’d gone from being hellbent on destroying her to helping her because she batted her eyelashes at me.
I silently derided myself. Alex, you fool.