Fake Love Rich Boss Series

by Peterson , Sloane

  I just look over my shoulder and smile back at him.

  The interview starts and every muscle in my body is tense. I hope that Gavin is true to his word and doesn’t approach the ‘no go’ list. When Alan and Gavin exchanged their greetings and introductions, it definitely felt tense. I can only pray that this goes as well as it needs to.

  I stand off to the side, leaning against one of the pillars. I don’t hear somebody approaching, until Oliver’s voice is in my ear.

  “What was all of that about earlier?” he asked.

  I jump, startled by the noise. Looking up at him, I wrinkle my nose.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well,” he said matter-of-factly, “You were definitely flirting with the interviewer. I think I heard something about dinner. So, you’re getting dinner with him tonight?”

  I never imagined Oliver Windsor as a jealous person. All my thoughts of him involve him just not caring. As someone who’s a known playboy, why would it bother him if the girl is also playing the field?

  “I don’t actually plan on getting dinner with him tonight,” I said in the same matter-of-fact tone.

  “Huh. Strange,” he said. “Because it seemed like you were flirting with him. I mean, if that’s what you have to do, that’s fine. I’d just appreciate a heads-up.”

  I don’t know how to respond right off the bat. I’m trying to listen to Alan’s interview, trying to make sure that everything is going as it should, but Oliver is distracting me.

  “I’m trying to work,” I hissed, no longer making eye contact with him. I stare straight ahead, trying to block him out.

  “Look, all I’m saying is run it by me before you start going on dates with other people," he said. “Do I get the same privilege?”

  He’s wiggling his way underneath my skin and I’m unsure how to deal with him. I want to focus on work. I need to make sure that Gavin sticks to the ‘no go’ list and that Alan sticks to the talking points that I gave him. But Oliver is in my ear, riling me up.

  I’m not the type of person to easily get angry. I’m more likely to cry over something than I am to get physically angry. Oliver knows exactly how to pull that out of me though, and I hate it. I turn to him, teeth gritted, “I’m trying to work.”

  “Or are you just staring at him?,” he said. “I have to admit, he is rather nice looking.”

  What is this man’s problem? He was so cold towards me yesterday that I didn’t know which way to turn, and now he’s upset because I flirted with somebody else. I don’t get him. I don’t get what he wants from me.

  “Oliver,” my teeth are still gritted. “I am trying to work right now. If we have to have this conversation, can we do it after the interview? Think you can hold it together that long?”

  “If I recall correctly, I thought you were supposed to let Gavin...” Oliver said Gavin’s name in a singsong, mocking school-girl crush voice. He wiggles his way further underneath my skin. “know about dinner after the interview. So, I want to know where we stand before I get blindsided by your answer.”

  I can’t. I can’t deal with him anymore. I know I have to stay professional; I know I should focus on work. I can’t though, not with Oliver in my ear. Each word wiggles underneath my skin, makes a home there and grows the anger within me. It brings me to the point where I can’t stand it any longer.

  I turn around, taking my eyes off Alan and Gavin.

  “Oliver, I asked you already to do this later. I’d really appreciate it if you’d listen to me for once. I have no intention of going to dinner with someone who is not my boyfriend. Whether that’s you at the end of the day or not, we’ll find out.”

  As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret them. But I couldn’t help myself, he just got further and further underneath my skin.

  “So, are you saying you plan on leaving me for him?” he retorted.

  “No!” I whispered as loudly as possible, hoping it doesn’t distract everyone from the interview. I can’t believe he’s being an ass right now, when this is something extremely important for his family. “I’m planning on leaving you if you don’t stop being an asshole.”

  That shuts him up for a good amount of time. Oliver just stands next to me in silence, looking on as the interview continues in front of us. As far as I can tell, it went well. Some of the points I missed because of my whispered argument with Oliver, but I think it went as well as it could. I hope it works like I’ve planned.

  I walk away from Oliver before he can start a new argument or continue the one from earlier, and I head over to Alan and Gavin.

  “Looks like it went well,” I told them with a smile. I extend my hand in Gavin’s direction and he takes it. This time his hand lingers on mine. Finally, he lets go.

  “Yeah? I followed the list you gave me. So, what do you say? Italian tonight at seven?” he smiled at me cockily.

  I feel put on the spot, in front of Alan and Oliver and the entire production crew. I know that Gavin knew what he was doing when he asked right here and right now. Behind me, I feel Oliver’s eyes burning holes into the back of my head. I want to hide, blend into the carpet and disappear from sight.

  “I don’t think I can do dinner tonight, Gavin. I’m sorry.” I said apologetically. I expect him to get upset, annoyed that I lied to him. Instead, Gavin just smiles up at me.

  “Hey, I get it,” he said with a shrug. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again, and you can bet that I’ll ask you out to dinner when that time comes. You’ll say yes to me eventually, Cassidy Hanson.”

  The grin on his face is TV worthy.

  “We’ll see about that,” I said, shaking his hand one more time. I don’t want to stay in the manor. Mainly, I don’t want to stay around Oliver. I’m annoyed with him and I’m sure he’s going to have more to say about my exchange with Gavin.

  Making sure I have my things gathered, I say goodbye to who I can before retreating out of the manor. I get as far as the front door when Oliver’s voice is behind me again.

  “So, you’re just leaving?” he barked.

  I whip around, letting out an exasperated sigh.

  “I can’t do this, Oliver. I can’t argue with you over the stupidest shit. You’re being an asshole. Maybe I flirted with somebody else, but you’ve been ignoring me for a solid two days. The only time you decided to talk to me was to pick a fight. I don’t know what you want.”

  “I was just going to say goodbye to you,” he said.

  That’s it. He’s exhausting. He’s hot and cold; up and down. I don’t know what to do or how to deal with him. All I know to do is take it and hope that it gets better.

  “Fine. Goodbye, Oliver.”

  I try to judge his face, but I still find him ultimately unreadable. I’m confused as to what I’m supposed to do in this situation and he’s not giving me any signs.

  “Goodbye, Cassidy,” he said, but he doesn’t move.

  Should I go to him? Should we make up? No. He should be the one to fix things between us. He’s the one who’s making a mess of it all. Without another word, I turn and walk out of the door, going back home to my apartment and wondering whether or not I made the right choice when I turned Gavin down.

  Chapter Nine

  I awake to a knock at my door. The sound jolts me right out of bed, filling me with anxiety. I’m a single woman living in a big city. I don’t have anything to protect myself with. I take a deep breath and snuggle back down under my blanket, my heart thudding so hard in my chest, I feel like it’s going to jump right out. I pull the blanket over my head, knowing how childish this is, but it provides a sense of comfort. The knocking stops for a minute before it starts right back up again. It’s urgent, desperate. The louder the knocking becomes, the more anxious I grow.

  When it pauses once again, I think it’s over. Whoever it is can come back in the morning. I know I’m not going to be able to go back to sleep, but it’s worth a shot. It starts up again, but this time, I hear a voice through it.


  “Cassidy, it’s me.”

  Oliver. Why in the hell would he be banging at my door at, I pause to look at the clock, two-thirty in the morning? I sit up, then get to my feet on the chilly hardwood floor. I walk to the front door, unlocking it and opening it. Oliver is standing there. Without a word, he pushes past me and steps into the apartment.

  I sigh, close the door behind him, and turn to look at him.

  “An explanation would be great, Oliver. You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder for days and now you think you can just wake me up and barge into my apartment in the middle of the night?” I exclaimed.

  I’m beginning to regret ever taking this job. Not because of the work, that’s been manageable, but Oliver has not.

  He turns to face me and I finally get a good look at him. He looks nothing like the man I’m used to. His hair is a mess. It looks like he’s been pulling at it. There are dark bags beneath his eyes; he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket. His eyes are wild – they remind me of a caged animal that is about to strike.

  “I know, I know,” he said sharply. “But, I just, fuck!” he cursed and kicked the floor, probably getting me into bad graces with my downstairs neighbors and scuffing it in one swoop. “I can’t...I can’t not tell anyone anymore. I can’t keep it in...I can’t, Cassidy.”

  I have no idea what he’s talking about. If a sick little part of me didn’t still trust Oliver, I would be afraid. While he may have made me feel like an idiot and hurt my feelings a bit, he’s never done anything for me to be afraid of him.

  “What are you talking about, Oliver?” I asked him, my voice unnecessarily quiet.

  “I...I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone, but I need to,” he said gesturing wildly with his hands. Then he bangs on his chest, “It’s eating me up inside!”

  I’m at a loss for words. To go from a relatively nice sleep, to my boss standing in front of me, appearing to have lost his damn mind about a secret he can’t tell me, has me tongue tied.

  “Oliver,” I said his name softly. He looks at me and for a second, I see the demons behind his eyes disappear.

  “Let me make you some coffee. Take a seat on the couch.”

  I don’t think he’s going to listen to me. I think he’s going to continue wildly pacing my dining room floor and kicking at the ground. Instead, the softness on his face remains.

  “Okay,” he said softly. I watch as he turns to the living room and goes to the couch.

  I breathe a sigh of relief, to have some time to try to figure out what’s going on and what I should say. I go to the kitchen, prepare some coffee for both of us and return to the living room with two mugs. I hand one to Oliver before taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch from him, holding my mug in both of my hands.

  “Oliver, what’s going on?” I asked, looking straight at him.

  He looks down into the mug of coffee, not making eye contact with me.

  “I don’t know,” he said. The words are clearly a lie.

  I don’t know what to do. Should I push him for answers? Should I allow him to just lie? Whatever it is, it’s bothering him. He wouldn’t have been pounding on my door in the middle of the night if it wasn’t.

  “Oliver,” I tried again. “Something’s going on. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. You wouldn’t have been pounding on my door in the middle of the night if something wasn’t on your mind. You don’t have to tell me, but don’t lie to me. I deserve more than that.”

  He sighed, “I know.” He takes a drink from his coffee. He looks away from the mug, now just staring straight ahead. “I want to tell you, but you won’t ever look at me the same way again. I don’t know if I can handle that.”

  “In case you’ve missed it, Oliver, I haven’t been looking at you at all lately. You ghosted me. I thought we were getting somewhere. I thought we were becoming something...maybe I was just being stupid.”

  “No,” he said immediately. This time, he looks back at me. His eyes meet mine. “You weren’t being stupid, Cassidy. Don’t you dare say that about yourself. I just...I can’t let you get close to me. You’re going to get hurt in the long run.”

  “Don’t you get it?” I asked. “I’m already hurt, Oliver. You’ve already hurt me. I don’t know how much worse you can do.”

  “I can do worse,” he said. The eye contact between us drops, his eyes going anywhere but my face now. “Cassidy...I’m not a good person. I know how cliché and stupid that sounds. I know you’re probably going to tell me that whatever it is, it’s not that bad, but it is. I’m a god-awful person and you can’t get caught up in my mess.”

  “Whatever it is, Oliver, I guarantee it’s not as bad as you think it is,” I assured him. My mind is racing with the options. Has he knocked somebody up? Did he go on another drunken spree? Did he somehow tank the entire company in a day? The anxiety I felt earlier is rising in my chest again, leaving me unsure and unknowing. I just need him to say it. Whatever it is. I need to hear it.

  His voice is weak when he speaks, it’s close to breaking. I’ve never seen Oliver like this before; I’ve never imagined him like this before.

  “I...” He started, but stopped himself, shaking his head. “Cassidy, you’re never going to look at me again.”

  I set my mug on the end table and slide over to where he’s sitting, closing the distance between the two of us. Our thighs are touching, just like that night on the hood of his car. It feels so long ago now. Reaching out, I take the coffee mug from his hands and place it on the coffee table in front of us. I take his hand in mine, pulling it into my lap.

  Oliver still doesn’t look at me.

  Whatever it is, it’s really bothering him.

  “Oliver,” I said softly. “You can’t know that for sure. I can’t think of many things that would make me hate you or never want to look at you again. How you’ve been treating me lately though? It’s getting close.”

  His face softens again, looking over at me.

  “I’m sorry, Cassidy. You don’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treating you. I just...I want you to distance yourself from me. I guess that’s it...but...I think this will ruin everything if I tell you.”

  I tighten my grip on his hand.

  “Oliver, we have Alan’s trial in the morning. Whatever this is, can it wait, or do you need to get it out tonight? We can’t do this all night.”

  “That’s the thing,” Oliver said softly. He’s staring straight down at the hardwood floor now, his face glossing over with that emotionless slate I’ve seen on him a few times before. It always makes me uneasy. I can’t read him most of the time, but I have no chance of doing it now.

  Something about the suspense that’s building between the two of us makes me feel sick to my stomach. The anxiety that’s been bouncing in and out since I woke up has now made a home inside of me, getting worse with each passing minute. I don’t know what to say. I’ve pushed him as far as I feel comfortable pushing him. Everything is up to Oliver now.

  “Cassidy,” he said my name quietly. “I...I can’t let my father go to jail for something that I did.”

  I don’t know what confession I was expecting from Oliver, but this wasn’t it. I feel myself jump back, the anxiety in me only getting worse.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “I...I was the one who killed Matthew. Or had him killed. I knew about his affair with Camille for a while and I...I couldn’t let her make a fool of my father like that. Imagine if people found out she was cheating on him? I...I hired a family friend for the job. I helped him set it up.”

  Oliver is emotionless as he speaks. It reminds me of how he spoke to Camille the day that Alan kicked her out. He sounds shut down, disconnected. It sounds like he doesn’t care what he’s done, that he doesn’t regret a single minute of it. I don’t understand how someone can feel like that.

  I don’t know how to feel about Oliver’s confession. He had a man killed. That murder was pin
ned on his father, and the entire time, Oliver has been passionately vocal that his father is innocent.

  “You...” I stammered. I don’t know what to say. “You had Matthew killed. You hired somebody to kill him. How? How did you find somebody to kill him and not come forward? Why were Alan’s fingerprints found at the scene?”

  I have so many questions.

  “We have family friends in low places. There’s a reason we’ve remained at the top for so long, although we’ve never done anything quite like this. Father helped me move the body. Matthew was killed inside the house and we couldn’t have his body found there. It wasn’t meant to be found at all.”

  Alan was involved, too.

  “This isn’t all on you, Oliver,” I said as I begin to understand.

  “But it is. I contacted the friend, I told them what to do, I lured Matthew to the manor. Father didn’t know what had happened until I told him everything in a panic.”

  I swallowed hard, “Does anyone else know?”

  “Edward, I think. I think he saw us dragging the body from the house.”

  I have been caught in a web of lies from the beginning. I remember being in the manor and being scared of Alan, thinking he was a killer. Instead, the one person in the family that I trusted was the killer. I fell for a murderer, someone with no remorse for what he’s done.

  “I...” my voiced failed me.

  “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew it would ruin everything, but...I can’t lie to you,” Oliver said. He looks at me then, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I messed up, Cassidy. I made a mistake and I can’t take it back and I don’t know what else to do,” he said before burying his head in his hands.

  “I can’t turn myself in and I can’t let father go to jail for what I’ve done.”

  What...am I supposed to say? I’m at a complete loss for words. I was falling for this man. I was really, really into him. Now, he’s sitting here, telling me that he’s responsible for the death of a man. I can’t look at Oliver the same way that I did just seconds ago. He’s not the man that I thought he was.