Chapter 5
OLIVIA
I’m less a people person and more a person person. Singular.
One person at a time. Appointments required.
Walk-ins not welcome.
—Olivia’s Secret Thoughts
“I’m sorry. What was that?” I ask, closing my eyes as the Kingston jet cruises somewhere over the middle of the country with at least another hour and a half before we get back to the private air strip outside of Kroydon Hills. “Did you say ranch?”
“Were you not paying attention, Olive?” My fucking husband taunts, and I wonder, not for the first time since waking up, if this wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life.
Then I remember the near giddiness in Peter’s voice and imagine the crisp new business cards with the word partner on them in embossed font, and I suck it the fuck up.
“No, Logan,” I sneer, from behind my laptop. “I was too busy working to listen to what you three are laughing about over there.” Even if I’m grateful they’ve got Serena laughing.
“They’ve got cows, Livvy.” Serena relaxes into the leather seat as she scrolls through images on a phone. “Okay, well one cow and a few baby goats.”
You’ve got to be kidding me. If silent whining had a spokesperson, I think it might be me. “I thought your family trained racehorses. What’s with the farm animals?”
“What’s a matter, Olive?” Logan leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees from his spot on the couch. “You afraid a few little farm animals might just ruin those expensive shoes?”
“No,” I say too quickly. “I just want to make sure I’m getting this right.”
Rafe takes his phone back from Serena, smiling. I’m not sure this guy ever takes anything seriously. “We do train horses, but Waverly is a sucker for an animal in need.”
I side-eye Logan. “Waverly?”
“Our little sister. She’s in her final year of vet school. And she’s got a soft heart for animals. Especially ones that look like they belong in a Disney movie.” He pulls out his phone and opens a text thread. “This is Waves, Maggie, and Posey.”
Oh my.
Assuming Waves is his sister, Waverly, Logan’s sister sent him a picture of her holding his daughter on a cow that does in fact look like it belongs in a Disney movie.
It’s a beautiful photo of a beautiful family and a pretty cute cow.
Waverly’s red hair is hanging around her shoulders in a mass of curls.
Her pale skin is in direct contrast to the warmer tone of Maggie’s skin and brown hair that’s tied up in two little pigtails on top of her head, held back with small white bows with little ladybugs in the center.
Her chubby cheeks are smiling wide, and that dimple settles deep in her left one, just like her daddy.
Suddenly, fear grips me in a chokehold and holds tight to the reins.
I didn’t just marry the man. I married his family.
Fuck. If I were my client, I’d tell me to live with this man.
Become part of that family.
If I don’t, the court will see right through this charade, and not only would that fuck Logan’s ability to maintain custody of his daughter, it would also blow up in my face.
My firm would never take me seriously again.
My career would be ruined. I’d be a joke.
And I’ve come too far and worked too hard to be anyone’s joke.
“She’s beautiful, Logan.” I hand him back his phone. “She looks like you.”
“Aww, don’t go getting soft on me now, Olive.” He pockets his phone and leans his head back against the plush leather behind us. “So tell me, Yoda, how are we doing this?”
“Yoda? Do I look small and green?” At some point, we may have to start being nicer to each other, but that point hasn’t come just yet.
“You are pretty small when you don’t have those heels on.” He tilts his head, and I feel that heated gaze as it skims over me from the tips of my currently bare feet up to the top of the hair piled on top of my head. “And hey, green eyes.”
I blow out a breath and try to grab hold of my raging thoughts.
This was such a bad idea is currently winning at the very top of them.
“This is going to be so much harder than I realized.” I close my laptop with a less than satisfying thunk and turn toward him. “Okay, I’m going to walk you through the plan, and I’ll try not to use big words.”
“Maybe try to remove that giant stick from your ass while you’re at it,” he throws back, and the memory of him calling me a bitchy ice queen in the press two years ago flashes hot and fast in my mind.
“Okay, first rule. Women don’t like to be called bitches.”
Logan nods a little too enthusiastically, his jaw clenching. “Men don’t like to be called stupid either, Olive. Pretty sure I can follow your big words.”
“If you two can’t be civil with each other, this is never going to work,” Serena chastises from across the aisle. “Maybe you should both, I don’t know . . . try being nice to each other.”
“There’s always divorce,” Rafe adds, and Logan groans.
“No.” The deep tenor of Logan’s voice leaves no room for argument. “I’ll never get to keep Maggie if I got married in Vegas and divorced the next fucking day. You say this could work, Olive. Now break it down. How do we make it work?”
“You’re right.” I open my Macbook back up and toggle over to my checklist, then turn it his way. “Okay, I tried looking at this as if we were my clients. Like I said last night, we need to live together. I will not lose my license over this. Which means . . .”
“Which means what?” Logan pushes, not realizing this is what I’ve been trying to figure out all morning.
I look between Rafe and him, still not settled on this direction. “If you tell your family you got married in Vegas, would they believe you?”
He raises a brow. “You mean if I tell them we did this to keep Maggie?”
I shake my head. “No. Could you pull off them thinking this is real?”
“Lie to them?” he asks, clearly not sold as Rafe whistles low and fast.
“Lie to Pops and Jasper and Waves?” Rafe asks.
“Yes. As in the only people who know the truth are the four of us,” I confirm, an uncomfortable feeling working its way up the back of my skull.
“I think it’s the only way we do this. I was trying to come up with a different way all morning.
But I keep poking holes in every other option, no matter how much I hate the thought of lying to my own family, and I’m sure you hate the thought of lying to yours.
” My eyes rake over Serena and Rafe. “You’d have to keep this secret for us too. ”
“Our family has more secrets and lies than a Netflix show.” Serena smiles sadly. “But it’s going to come out eventually, and your parents are going to freak.”
“I know,” I whisper. “It’s the price I’m willing to pay.”
“You good with this, brother?” Logan asks Rafe, clearly not thrilled, but he can’t say I didn’t warn him. This is exactly what I said last night too.
“If it keeps Maggie with us, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Okay.” The challenge in Logan’s voice is impossible to miss. “What next?”
“Next, we break the news to your family and I guess, my parents. Tomorrow, I’ll file the motion to lock everything down.
And I guess you’ll have to introduce me to your lawyer, so we can start to work on your custody case.
” Logan drops his eyes to his hands. Oh, come on . . . “Tell me you have a lawyer.”
He doesn’t look up.
“Logan—”
“Not yet.”
Sweet baby Jesus. “What do you mean not yet? Did you think custody was going to take care of itself?”
When Logan lifts his head, the man looking back at me is unsure of himself, for what I’m guessing is one of the first times in his life. And okay, maybe I was a little harsh.
“This just happened last week. I knew I was flying out here to meet with Peter and thought he could help me get a lawyer,” he admits begrudgingly.
“Okay, don’t worry about it. I know someone we can reach out to.
I’ll get the ball rolling on that too.” I add it to my list, beneath my note to file the motion to seal our marriage certificate and the entire custody case, and above the note about moving some clothes to Logan’s house. “I have to move in with you.”
“What?” he snaps.
“Not completely.” I squash that fear like a fucking bug. “But if your family is going to believe we’re married, we need to live together. And I’m pretty sure you don’t want to move you and your daughter into our place.”
“Our?” Logan growls, and I can’t help but wonder what the hell that’s about.
“I have a roommate, asshole,” I grind out.
“Hope you have a big bed, Adler. We like to share,” Serena says in a syrupy sweet voice.
“You lucky dog,” Rafe groans, and I roll my eyes.
“Not like that, you moron.” I scrunch my face up and catch Serena doing the same. “I’m not moving everything in. You live in New Jersey, don’t you?”
Logan nods.
“I have an office in Kroydon Hills. I’ll use that as my excuse to crash at my place a few nights a week. Do you think your family will buy that?”
“Not sure how easily that’s going to go over.” Logan’s big hand runs through his sandy-brown hair and tugs.
Damn. That should absolutely not be sexy.
“We’re only an hour outside of Philly,” he continues. “If we were so in love that we had to elope in Vegas, I’m pretty sure they’d expect us to be living together. Jasper isn’t stupid, and neither is Pops. But Waves might be so caught up in the romance of it all that she buys it.”
“And how many nights a week are you proposing I spend at your place?” I seriously can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Five or six?” he asks more than answers.
“Five. Maximum. I’m not doing six.” I silence my phone as it vibrates on the table, ignoring my mother. I’m so going to pay for that later. “Any chance you have an extra bedroom?”
Rafe laughs. “Not one you can sleep in if you expect anyone to buy you two being married. If you’re not fucking like bunnies, it’s going to be all kinds of suspicious.”
“Seriously?” I nail him with a glacial glare. “Like bunnies?”
“Welcome to the family, little sister,” Rafe smiles.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
Logan
“You doing okay back there, Rafe?” The dick grunts as the streets speed by. Because of course, Olivia St. James drives a brand-new Aston Martin convertible. Surprisingly, there’s a back seat. A small one, but Rafe fits back there. Barely.
“Liv, for the love of God. We’re twenty minutes out from the ranch. Hurry the fuck up. I’m losing the feeling in my legs,” he bitches, and like the dick I am, I fucking smile.
We swung by her place to drop off Serena and for Liv to pack a bag or four as I got antsy as hell.
I just want to get home. Even if it is to an impending shit show.
I hate being away from Maggie. It was bad enough last season, but then, I had no choice.
I’ve spent nearly all the offseason with my baby girl, who’s already growing so fast. And I’m ready to be back with her.
“When are you going to tell Magnolia’s mom?” Olivia asks as we pull to a stop at the one and only light just outside of town. She glances my way before checking the mirror and shaking her head at whatever she sees Rafe doing back there.
“Monica,” I answer, disgusted.
“What?”
“Magnolia’s mother’s name is Monica.” I try to say it with some respect because she gave me Maggie, but seriously, this woman has tested every fucking limit I have, and she’s lost every time, only to keep coming back for more.
“Okay, when are you going to talk to Monica about this thing.” Olivia dances around the word marriage in a very un-Olivia-like way.
“About our marriage?” I ask, dragging out the word. It still feels fake as fuck, probably because it is. But this is what it’s going to take to keep Maggie, so I’m going to have to accept it’s what I’m doing. “That depends.”
“On what?” she asks as the light changes, and her navigation system tells her to make a left in a very masculine, very Australian voice.
“On what I need to tell her and if I can just let the lawyers handle it or if I actually have to speak to her myself. I tend to avoid her when I can,” I admit.
“Like the fucking plague or a case of the crabs,” Rafe adds, and I swear some days I want to kill him. “She’s a bitch who’s barely made time for Maggie. She doesn’t deserve her. And she can’t fucking have her. Make it so, Liv.”
Olivia looks back at Rafe again, her spine straightening like Rafe just threw down his gloves on the ice in a challenge she’s ready to accept. “She’s never gone up against me before, Rafe. I’ll make her regret every breath she takes in Logan’s direction if I can.”
“Not mine. Don’t worry about me. Just keep her away from Maggie,” I tell her, ready to beg, hell, to plead. I’d do anything if it meant keeping my girl. “I don’t trust her, Olive.”
“You don’t trust anyone, dickhead,” Rafe calls out as the warm summer wind whips around us.
“He’s not wrong.” Not sure what that says about me, other than I learned a long fucking time ago the less people you trust, the less people can disappoint you.
She pulls to a stop in front of the black-iron gate of the Triple Crown Ranch and turns to me, unimpressed. “Listen, Logan. You don’t have to like me. I’d be lying if I said I liked you. But you are going to have to trust me for this to work. Can you do that?”
“Come on, man,” Rafe bitches from the back seat. “I’m folded like a fucking pretzel back here. Fuck or fight or do whatever the hell you need to do to get me out of this car.”
“Logan . . .” Olivia pushes.
“If I give you this, I’m trusting you with the most important thing in my life, Olive.” From the minute they put her in my arms, everything stopped. It changed in ways I wasn’t ready for and never imagined but wouldn’t change for anything. “That’s not an easy ask.”
“If you want to keep her, I have to ask it.”
“And if I say no?” I know the answer before I even ask it, so I’m not sure why I bother.
“Then I can’t help you.”
Yeah . . . that’s what I thought.
I have no reason to trust this woman.
No reason to think she’s going to help me.
But if she wants to make partner, she’s got to be married. And if she screws me, I will eviscerate her on a national level and make sure she never gets another client or another job. “If I go down, you go down, right, Olive?”
“Neither of us are going down, Logan. I. Don’t. Lose.” So fucking sure of herself.
“Then I guess I better trust you to win this. For both of us.”
The way this woman’s smile lights up her pale-green eyes makes it hard to look away, and I have to remind myself that I might have to trust her. But that’s as far as this shit can go.
“Oh, don’t you worry, Adler. I’ll make sure it’s good for both of us.”
Fuck. Me.