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Accidental Sweetheart

Page 9

by Elana Johnson


  “You can walk,” she told herself, one hand braced against her desk as she tried to find a way to stand up straight again. “You need the exercise, and twenty flights should do it.”

  A knock landed on her door, and she lifted her head. She didn’t want to acknowledge the person, because she wasn’t fit for company. Couldn’t deal with an unhappy guest. Or a problem at the front desk.

  “Olympia,” Chet said.

  Or Chet.

  “I know you’re in there. Will you please let me in?”

  She’d never been able to confront Hunter, not directly. He’d sent her a text that said, You know how things are, baby. Talk later.

  Of course, Olympia had not spoken to him again. She’d never gotten to tell him exactly what she thought of him.

  But with Chet, she did, and that had her moving across the room and yanking open the door. “Mister Chatworth. I’ll take that nametag.”

  He looked down at his chest and then back to her with bewilderment on his face. “Okay.” He took it off and put it in her waiting palm.

  “Great. I know where to deliver your paycheck.”

  “Olympia,” he said, the word filled with frustration and a hint of chastisement. “Can I come in?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re not going to let me explain?”

  “You can talk from right there.” She folded her arms and leaned into the doorway.

  Chet glanced toward the front desk, but there was plenty of privacy this far down the hall. “Fine,” he said, bringing his gaze back to hers. “Yes, I worked for The Grand America in Atlanta. I was their General Manager for a decade.”

  Olympia could not believe she’d been such a fool. People didn’t just have ideas for popcorn night or beach-side service. She should’ve known.

  Why hadn’t she known?

  “I lost my job a few weeks before I came to Carter’s Cove. The chief financial officer is Judith’s cousin. Judith and John, her husband, own The Grand America.” He sighed and ducked his head as if he was embarrassed.

  Olympia leaned closer, not accustomed to seeing Chet so forlorn. “The nephew had been laundering money for a while. I took the fall. Lost my job. Left the city.” He looked at her again, his eyes wide and vulnerable. “I was so relieved to be here, because that penthouse was the first place I’d lived in three weeks that had actual walls. That bed was the first I’d slept in since losing everything.”

  His light green eyes watched her, an edge of wariness in them when she preferred that sexy glint of mischief. “That’s it. That’s all.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He drew in a big breath, as if the explanation would require a lot of air. “I don’t know,” he said, blowing the air out. “You seemed…antagonistic toward other hotels, The Grand America specifically. I never brought it up. You never asked.”

  You never asked.

  She hated those words more than most in the English language. “I shouldn’t have to ask every question under the sun,” she said, everything inside her so clenched her muscles started to ache.

  “I know that,” he said. “Come on, O. I didn’t do this to hurt you. I just…didn’t know how to tell you.” He took a micro-step closer to her. “And you did ask a really important question, and I answered that one correctly.”

  “Which one was that?”

  “The one about me being married.” He gave her a small smile, a tester for what she knew he could really do. “I’m not married.” He inched into her office, one hand going around her waist and the other closing the door behind him.

  He held her close, and it took every ounce of Olympia’s willpower not to melt right into his embrace. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his mouth so close to her ear. He dragged the tip of his nose down the side of her face. “Don’t be mad at me, please?”

  “I feel….” She couldn’t continue, because she felt like her insides were made of gelatin. Everything wobbled, and nothing was right. “You lied to me.”

  “No,” he said in that same low, sexy voice. “I didn’t. I just didn’t tell you everything, because I knew it would upset you. I’m sorry.”

  And he certainly sounded sorry. “I feel like a fool,” she said, stepping away from the sunscreeny scent of his skin. She wiped her hand down her face. “It’s just…you know Hunter lied to me over and over. You know that.” She couldn’t get a decent breath, and she hated that Hunter had this much power over her still.

  In that moment, she knew she’d never be able to find happiness if she let Hunter control even one iota of her life, her thought patterns, her behaviors, her beliefs. Any of it.

  He’d already taken so much from her, and he wasn’t going to take any more. The problem was, she didn’t know how to stop giving him the power.

  Tears filled her eyes, and she turned back to Chet. “I’m not mad at you.”

  “I think you might be.”

  “No.” She shook her head, her hair flopping around a little. She tucked it behind her ear. “I’m mad at myself.” She looked at him as he came toward her again. “You really lost your job because of someone else?”

  “It would’ve been a big family scandal,” he said. “By blaming me, the Gillette’s could cover it up. Quietly move on. That sort of thing.”

  “I hope you got a severance package.”

  “I didn’t.” He touched her hand, a feather-light brush of his fingers against hers. “I lost so much in Atlanta, but now that I’m here, I don’t even care.” He bent down, his face coming closer to hers. “Because of you, Olympia. I…you saved me. You and this inn.”

  She searched his face to see if he was lying, but he seemed genuine. So much stormed in her chest. “I don’t trust myself,” she said. “I feel like I’ve lost the ability to read people. I can’t tell if you’re lying or not.”

  “I’m not lying.” Chet gathered her into his arms, and she did melt into him this time, pressing her face right against his pulse. He felt so solid, and so real, and so strong—everything she wasn’t. “And you’re a smart woman. You can read people just fine. After all, you figured out real quick not to talk to Lars at the Kipton Monaco.”

  “Oh, my goodness.” She pushed away from him. “He’s calling because of you, isn’t he?”

  “He’s called me, yes,” Chet said coolly. “I told him in no uncertain terms that I was not interested in working for The Grand America chain of hotels again.” He grinned at her, kneading her closer. “And you suspected me of spying. You’re plenty good at reading people. You can trust yourself.”

  “Popcorn night was a failure,” she said.

  “You win some, you lose some,” he said. “How much more revenue have you seen move through your dining department this week?”

  “We’re up five hundred percent.”

  “That’s a huge win,” he said. “Wouldn’t you say?” He began to sway, and Olympia couldn’t resist dancing with him.

  “Yes,” she sighed into his chest. “I’m so tired.”

  “So let me take you upstairs,” he said, stepping back but keeping his arm around her shoulders. “I’ll get dinner and bring it up while you nap.”

  Nap. Olympia couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a nap, especially during the summer season.

  “Okay,” she said. They went down the hall together and rode the slow elevator up to her door.

  “We’re okay?” he asked, his hand still on her hip while she flashed her keycard in front of the reader.

  “We’re okay,” she confirmed. “And we’ll be great if you bring me some sushi from Long’s and my favorite ice cream from The Pier.”

  “Which is your favorite?” he asked.

  She gave him a smile as she backed into her penthouse. “If you don’t know, Chet, don’t bother coming over later.”

  “Oh, ho, I see.” He chuckled, but the laughter didn’t quite reach those eyes. They stayed serious, and Olympia let the door close between them.

  Yes, they were okay,
but they weren’t the same as they’d been, and she leaned against the door, wondering if she was making a mistake by not breaking up with him.

  Her heart didn’t think so, and it entered an eternal wrestle with her mind.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chet brought home as much ice cream as he could carry before going back out to Long’s for the sushi. His legs, feet, and back hurt, and he just wanted to lie down and sleep. But he wanted to make sure Olympia was okay too. He didn’t want to lose her over an omission.

  He hadn’t seen Judith again, thankfully, and Olympia hadn’t evicted him from the penthouse. With the right meal and movie, maybe they could go right back to where they were five hours ago.

  At that time, Chet had started thinking he was falling for Olympia Heartwood, hook, line, and sinker. Everything about her sparked something in him, and he liked the way she made him feel like a better man, motivated him to actually be a better man, and helped him see the good in the world around him.

  By the time he returned to the twentieth floor with the sushi, an hour had passed since he’d brought Olympia home. He wondered if that was long enough for her to rest. In the end, he didn’t want the sushi to be stale, so he knocked on her door.

  She answered several seconds later, wearing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder. Chet couldn’t move as he drank in the sexy sight of her.

  Things between them were definitely okay, if her smile was to be believed. “No ice cream, I see.” She raised her eyebrows.

  He handed her the sushi. “Be right back.” He dashed across the hall and grabbed the bags of ice cream he’d stowed in the freezer. She still waited at the door, but the sushi wasn’t in her hands anymore.

  “I thought your favorite kind was the s’mores,” he said. “But then I started second-guessing myself and everything I thought I knew.” He lifted the bags, his muscles straining. “I pretty much bought every flavor they have. That way, your favorite is sure to be here.” He grinned at her, glad when she laughed.

  “Clever,” she said.

  “Covering my bases,” he said. He put the ice cream in her freezer and turned back to her. Their relationship might be okay, but it was different too. Things had shifted to a new level, and Chet could feel it way down deep in his gut.

  It was uncomfortable on this new level, but he also knew it took big steps and leaps of faith to fall in love.

  He slammed the brakes on his thoughts, because he still felt like the ground could vanish beneath his feet at any time.

  He wasn’t in love. “Did you get a nap?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “For a few minutes.” She sighed as she sat on the couch, and he brought her the sushi he’d picked up.

  “California roll,” he said. “And I got you the Dragon, the Honeymoon, and the Tiger.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced up at him. “The surfing competition was a big success.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” He sat down beside her, his focus moving to his own sushi rolls.

  “What did you get?” she asked as he opened his container.

  “The Monster and the Avalanche,” he said.

  “Do you like sushi?”

  “I mean, I’ll eat it.” They hadn’t been out for sushi from Long’s yet, but Olympia had talked about it. He knew what she liked, as it wasn’t hard to remember the names of her rolls. But as he’d stood in front of that huge specialty roll menu, he’d had a hard time deciding for himself.

  “The Avalanche is great,” she said. “Crab and cucumber.”

  He took a bite, and yeah, it was okay. The avocado was nice, along with the salmon and jalapeño. They ate in silence for several minutes, and Chet closed the lid on his food before he’d finished it.

  “I can’t believe a Southern boy doesn’t like sushi,” she said.

  “I mean, we ate fish,” he said. “Cooked fish. My father had a real weakness for crab and lobster.”

  “And you?” she asked, leaning away from her food too. “What do you have a real weakness for?”

  You, he wanted to say but didn’t. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “French fries?”

  Olympia smiled at him. “What are you going to do in Carter’s Cove now?”

  He looked at her, a blip of fear moving through him. “I paid for two months.”

  “I know,” she said, her voice pitching up. “I was just wondering what you were going to do. Stay? Leave?”

  “Olympia,” he said, reaching for her hand. “What do you want me to say?”

  “What you’re going to do.”

  “I think you want me to say one thing but do the other.”

  “No.” She pulled her hand away and stood. From the kitchen, she made a lot of noise pulling out bowls and the ice cream scoop before settling in front of the fridge.

  “I was thinking I’d stay,” he said, feeling like everything he said and did was wrong. “Find a low-key job that will allow me to pay my bills. Be a beach bum the rest of the time.”

  She flashed him a smile that chilled him all the way through. “The key lime pie is my favorite.” Olympia held up the container and then got busy scooping it out.

  “What do you think of that?” he asked.

  “I think you should do what you want,” she said.

  Chet repressed his sigh. “I was going to apply at the inn. See if there’s something I can do here.”

  She didn’t say anything, and that answered everything.

  “I’m going to go,” he said. “Enjoy the ice cream.”

  “You aren’t going to stay?”

  “You seem kind of….” He couldn’t finish, because he already felt like he’d been dropped in boiling water.

  “Kind of what?” Olympia asked.

  “Hostile,” he said as he walked away.

  “Hostile?” she demanded. “Chet, wait a second.”

  He put his hand on the doorknob and turned back to her. She wore a perfect storm on her face, and she stopped a healthy distance from him. “I don’t need all of this ice cream.”

  “I’ll come help you finish it another night,” he said. “It just seems like you don’t want me here tonight, and that’s fine. You process. Decompress. Whatever you need to do.” He wanted to sweep a kiss across her forehead, but he stayed right where he stood.

  Her chin wobbled, and she spun away from him. “I don’t know what I need to do.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” he said. “You’re seriously one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.” With that compliment hanging between them, he left her penthouse. The door cracked closed behind him, and he could only hope that when she figured out what to do, it wasn’t to break up with him.

  Chet didn’t see Olympia the next morning, but he stayed in his half of the twentieth floor until the bakery was sure to be out of all of their breakfast pastries. He didn’t have anything on the agenda, as the debrief he was supposed to have with Olympia had been cancelled.

  He had no real bills here. No water, no electricity. He’d paid to live for several more weeks, and the day stretched before him, just time with nothing to do.

  The first day was fine. He’d probably walked twenty miles, back and forth from the pick-up window and out to the beach, in the past week.

  But by day two, he needed something to occupy his mind. Olympia had texted last night too, claiming she was too tired.

  Even for ice cream? he’d asked, and she’d confirmed that yes, even for ice cream. What she really meant was she didn’t want to see him anymore.

  By day three, he was so desperate, he called his mother.

  “Chet, darling,” she said. “Lynn said you’re working at an inn in Carter’s Cove?” She said it like he’d gone to the ghetto and taken the first job he could get.

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean? Sort of?”

  “It means I’m in Carter’s Cove, but my job at the inn was temporary.”

  “So what are you doing now?”

>   “Looking for another job.”

  “You should come—”

  “Mom, I’m not coming back to the plantation.”

  “Why not? Eli has no girlfriend. He seems abhorrent to the idea of a girlfriend. Who’s going to run this place if I die?”

  “Well, we all die, Mom,” Chet said, regretting the words. “Your time is a long way off, so don’t worry. I’m sure Eli will find someone soon enough.”

  “What about you?”

  “What about me, Mom?”

  “Why are you on Carter’s Cove? We always went to Whistlestop Shores.”

  “I know that.” He couldn’t believe he’d stooped to this level, though he did love his mother. “I don’t know,” he said. “This place has a lot of charm. And they had a room available, which Whistlestop Shores did not.”

  “If you need a place to stay—”

  “I’m fine, Mom,” he said, not wanting to be rude. “Did Lynn decide on a date for her party?”

  “Oh, yes,” his mother said, and that got her talking, her words coming a mile a minute. Chet didn’t mind. If she was talking, he didn’t have to.

  By that evening, Chet couldn’t take the silence anymore. It wasn’t true silence either, because Olympia had texted him several times over the course of the last three days. But he wanted more than friendly texts with the woman who’d kissed him so passionately.

  He walked to the door and had it open before he paused. He’d gone after Carrie too, and that had ended badly. Maybe he just needed to lick his wounds and let Olympia come to him.

  Before he could go back inside, the elevator dinged and the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about got off.

  Her focused stayed on her phone, and she didn’t notice him until he cleared his throat.

  “Oh.” She jumped, her hand flying to her chest. “You scared me.”

  “I’m thinking about that key lime ice cream.”

  “I finished that,” she said. “But there’s lots of other flavors.” She swiped her keycard and pushed the door open when the light flashed green. “Help yourself.” She held the door open as if he’d go inside her place without her.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

 

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