Chapter Nineteen
Olivia
S tepping over the threshold of Austin’s apartment, I take in the blank walls and gray features. The sharp edges cut down to the uncomfortable-looking sofa that looks like it could have been delivered yesterday for all the wear it has.
There are no photos, no artwork, no throw cushions, and not even a fuzzy blanket for the harsh Seattle winter months.
I take another tentative step as Austin watches. His towering frame looming over me. He stands between me and the door, as if he’s preemptively preventing me from escaping. How the tables have turned.
“I don’t spend much time here. So I don’t have much stuff,” he says, looking around the room as if he’s seeing it from my perspective. He’s frowning, and maybe he realizes how odd it is that he doesn’t have anything personal here.
I walk through to the living area, and a sleek TV screen is attached to the center of the dividing wall between the living room and the bedroom. Glass windows stand floor-to-ceiling, and I press my fingertips against them as I peer down at the bustling streets below.
“It’s not really you, is it?” I say.
He pulls his hand up and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “No, I guess not. Like I said, I don’t really spend a lot of time here.”
“Where do you spend most of your time?” I ask innocently, even though a small part of me tugs at the separation of our work and home lives.
“At the office mostly. My office. Not my father’s. I’ve had my own business for the last...wow, it’s nearly two years. I started it once I left the family business.”
I nod. I haven’t asked him much about his business.
If I could guess, I’d say he wanted to share more.
Austin has been bringing it into conversation more frequently, dropping small hints.
But I’ve never asked about it. I’m not entirely sure why, but the gnawing in my gut has prevented me from acting on my curiosity.
“You’re unnervingly quiet, Killer. What are you thinking?”
What am I even thinking? That this is the weirdest apartment I’ve ever seen, or that I’m sad for him.
Has he always lived like this? Alone, with no personal effects, nowhere to make him feel safe and cozy.
No wonder he kept coming back to the basement.
I’d left him things so he was cared for and warm, despite being chained up.
I look around the bleak room and feel a sudden prick in my eyes.
My back is turned to him so he can’t see my face, but he must sense my unease.
He wraps his warm hand around mine. “Come on. Let me show you what I really do.”
I nod, expecting him to guide me to another room, but instead, he picks up his keys, and we walk straight out the door.
Austin
I park the car in front of my warehouse and step out to open Olivia’s door for her.
Aside from the staff and the odd city health inspector, no one’s been here.
The warehouse is technically owned by a shell company, nothing that could be traced back to me.
There are cameras around the whole building, partly out of habit, but partly out of concern that once my father realizes I’m building a solid foundation elsewhere, he’ll bulldoze it.
And my dream of a new life in the process.
I type the code into the security system and push the heavy door through. Stepping over the bund wall that sits half a foot above the ground, I hold out my hand to assist Olivia. She hops down into the warehouse, and her eyes bug out.
I grin, knowing that this must be the last thing she’s been expecting, despite my attempts to engage her in conversation about my operation.
She lets go of my hand, her feet carrying her through the rows and rows of shelving units above.
“This is your business?”
“Yeah.” I shift between my feet, waiting to see a proper reaction.
She wanders down the rows of plants. She leans up on tiptoes to study the different species.
“What’s this one?” she asks, admiring the deep purple leaves.
“The technical name is oxalis triangularis. Here”—I snap off a deep purple leaf and hold it out to her—“try it.”
She takes the leaf from me, frowning. I pull off another leaf and pop it into my mouth, chewing.
I've never thought I could be jealous of a leaf until I see Olivia slowly place the purple triangle onto her tongue. She chews, frowning until her eyes pop open in surprise.
“The flavor . . . It's so sharp. What is it?”
My lips pull upward. “It tastes like a granny smith apple, right?”
“Oh my god. Yes, it really does. Can I?” She points to the plant again.
“Yeah, go ahead...but just wait because I have more to show you.” I tear off one more and hand it to her before taking her hand toward another section of the warehouse.
We wander hand in hand down each aisle. The viridescent greens contrast against the purple LED lights.
The smell of earth fills my nostrils, and a sense of calm descends.
Each question Olivia asks leads to another and another.
She’s talking about superfood recipes, incorporating the protein- and nutrient-filled microgreens into her channel and showing her followers how they could build a small hydroponic system like mine.
“Are you trying to put me out of business?” I tease.
“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I got carried away. But Austin, this is amazing. What you’ve built is unbelievable. It’s huge here. And there are so many varieties of plants, things I’ve never even heard of. And the flavors...I just can’t believe it.”
“And they’re more nutritious. For example, the pea shoots here have forty times more nutrients than an actual pea.” I pick off a shoot and pop it in my mouth. She follows suit and chews, humming her approval.
“So, you sell these to restaurants?”
“Yes. It’s done better than I could have imagined. It’s good to build something beneficial for everyone involved.”
She nods, running her fingers along the industrial shelving units we use to hold the plants.
“How did you learn all this?”
And here is the part of the tour that I don’t want to give.
I knew she would ask. That's why I brought her here, so I could explain where I came from and how I’m working to change.
I want her to know her brother is safe working for me because we don’t do anything illegal.
Even if the only reason I know how to do it is because my father has run a cannabis empire for the past twenty years. Underground, just like my farm is.
Could she accept this part of me? We’ve all but avoided talking about it for the last few weeks.
Wanting to build our relationship on something other than the fact that I’m her brother's boss and that I used to be a very bad man. Maybe I still am. If I weren’t, I would have had this conversation earlier, or better yet, I would have let her go.
But as usual, my selfishness has prevailed.
“My father’s business, I can’t go into too much detail about it. But I learned about growing plants underground there,” I eventually say, wandering down each aisle and inspecting the plants so I can avoid looking her in the eye.
“I had guessed that, but why move to edible plants? You’re basically a farmer, which is...surprising.”
“Why?”
She laughs, and it's nice to hear something so sweet in a place that's been built off the back of something so terrible.
“I just picture a farmer in dungarees and a straw hat, not a black suit, black shirt, and a master at giving orgasms with his tongue,” she whispers.
“Olivia Daniels. You forgot about my cock,” I tease, grabbing her hip and squeezing until she hums her approval.
“Hmm.” She taps her finger against her lip. “Maybe I need a reminder.”
I huff out a small laugh, adjusting my pants.
“Going back to your question.” I take a step back to ease the growing tension between us.
“I’m a farmer. The practice is called vertical farming.
It’s basically eradicated the need for huge amounts of space, soil, and pesticides.
It’s organic, really healthy, and tastes incredible. ”
“So, I know why you left your father’s business”—she places her hand in mine and gives me a reassuring squeeze—“but why did you get into farming?”
Good question.
I think back to two years ago when I left The Organization.
My father was furious, of course, and wouldn’t get off my back about getting back to work, throwing easy jobs my way.
I’d been talking to Dr. Alfie, but after meeting Olivia for the first time and then subsequently learning her schedule, she’d been a regular reminder of how much I wanted my life to change.
Sitting with Alfie in his office, discussing what I was going to do, we’d talked about the sense of urgency I constantly felt. To complete a job for my father, to get answers out of someone, to get money out of someone, it was all urgent, urgent, urgent—all the time.
And when he asked how I felt each time I sat in Squeeze the Day, I told him I felt calm and peaceful.
I’d sit and drink the awful coffee, and I’d subtly watch Olivia read her book for an hour.
She rarely did anything else; she never spent time on her phone.
It was almost like decompression time for her, a time to escape reality into whatever she was reading. She’d always looked so at ease.
It’s odd that now that I know her better, I realize she has been struggling so much. Looking after her brother, building her business. Yet, she has better coping mechanisms than me, a fully grown man.
“I wanted to watch something grow,” I finally say.
Her smile stretches ear to ear, but she dips her head to hide it. I can’t work out why, and then she whispers something equally confusing.
“You’re a good man, Austin Black.” Her palm cradles my cheek, and she drops the lightest of kisses against my lips.
My eyes prick, and is it hot in here? Something must be off with the temperature control.