“What gives?” Conor asked. “I mean, I’m used to your sunny disposition.” He laughed as he stepped onto one of the treadmills. “But you’re even more pissy than usual.”
Cole shook his arms loose before resting his elbows on his knees. “Olivia is out with her ex tonight,” he admitted on a heavy exhale.
“And?”
“And she’s not wearing her engagement ring. Found it on my desk after she left.”
“She was probably afraid she’d cause a traffic jam with its blinding light.” Conor chuckled. “The beam on that thing could land a freaking plane.”
He had a point. The diamond was obscenely large, and Olivia had made it clear from the get go that she wasn’t comfortable wearing it. But as much as Cole wanted to believe that was all there was to it, the annoying feeling in the pit of his gut told him otherwise.
“Was she wearing the wedding band?”
“Yeah.”
Conor shrugged off his friend’s concern. “Then nothing to worry about, man.” He started punching buttons on the treadmill’s touchpad. “To anyone watching, she’s a married woman.”
Cole hesitated before answering. Only for a moment, but that was all it took.
“Unless . . .” Conor stopped what he was doing and studied him with a shrewd eye. His brows knit together, then relaxed as it all fell into place. “This isn’t about making sure it looks good on the outside. You’re falling for this girl.”
“Don’t even start.”
“Holy shit,” he crowed. “The mighty Coleman Grant is down for the count.”
“I mean it, Conor. Shut the fuck up.”
“Sorry.” Conor did his best to look contrite. “I was just shitting you, dude.” He grabbed two bottles of water and came to sit on the bench beside Cole. “I mean, I get it,” he said, offering him one. “She’s a cool chick, and easy on the eyes. Those tits alone would—”
Cole silenced him with a hard glance.
“Okay, okay, so the tits are off limits.” Conor opened his bottle and took a long drink. When he’d nearly drained it, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Have you told her how you feel?” he asked. His tone had grown uncharacteristically serious. It was unnerving.
“I started to last night, but then her fucking ex knocked on the door.”
“Dude has timing. I’ll give him that.”
A heavy silence settled over them. Cole twisted the cap off his water bottle, but instead of taking a sip he just stared down into it. He was miserable. There weren’t enough bench presses in the world that could change that fact, and holding it inside was only making things worse. “I’m in love with her,” he finally said, not giving a fuck about the mountain of shit Conor would undoubtedly give him about all this later. For now, all Cole felt was relief.
The look Conor gave him was half mocking and half pity. As though lovesick misery was a disease and he’d just found out his best friend was terminal. After several long beats, he stood and let out a weary sigh. “I just have one question for you.”
Cole braced himself for the inevitable “Where are your balls?” jab.
“What the hell are you doing here with me then?” Conor asked. He cracked an infectious grin. “Go get your girl.”
Cole blinked up at him, surprised that someone so seemingly superficial could have such a knack for cutting through the crap when it mattered the most. Conor was right. Stomping around the gym like a disgruntled teenager wasn’t going to get him anywhere. If Cole wanted more with Olivia, then he needed to get off his ass and find out what was going on inside her head. Because as amazing as it was to finally admit it to himself—and to a certain extent, Conor—it all boiled down to a big pile of nothing if she didn’t feel the same way.
He pushed to his feet. “Lock up when you leave.”
“Dude, you trust me not to throw a rager?”
Cole didn’t answer. In fact, he was halfway to the shower before his friend’s words even registered. Like he gave a flying fuck if Conor threw a party. The guy could reenact The Hangover parts I, II, and III in his penthouse for all he cared. There was only one person who mattered to him, and at the moment she was eating dinner with another man.
He drew to a halt as he stepped into his bedroom. It had been almost two hours since they’d left the penthouse. Were they still at the restaurant? Had they gone for a nightcap? Fuck, had he invited her back to his place? A muscle in Cole’s jaw tightened at the thought of Olivia on Derek’s couch. Or worse, in his bed.
The shower would have to wait. Sweaty or not, he needed to get to that restaurant.
Raw.
Cole stared out the window at the letters printed on the burgundy awning that spanned the width of the door. The place looked inviting enough, but with a name like that, Cole couldn’t help but wonder if they even bothered to cook the food or if they just had you graze in the garden.
“Right here is fine,” he told Jonathan as they drew closer. There was no need to pull the SUV right up to the valet stand. A few yards away was close enough. Chasing his wife down while she was out to dinner with another man wasn’t exactly his finest moment, which is why Cole had debated driving himself. But Jonathan was a trusted employee. He’d seen everything: the good, the bad, and the ugly. The stakes might have been high for Cole, but in the big scheme of things, it was just another day on the job for Jonathan. And more than that, having someone else drive the car would afford him and Olivia time to talk without distraction. Assuming, of course, they got the chance.
“Would you like me to get the door, sir?”
No, Cole thought, what I’d like is for you to do a bit of re-con and tell me what the hell is going on in there. But instead of asking Jonathan for a covert op, Cole simply declined his offer. “I got this.”
He waited for a moment with his fingers curled around the door handle. From this vantage point he had a better view of the establishment. To his surprise, there was no dim lighting, no candles, or cozy booths. Instead what he saw through the wide windows was bright lights and utilitarian chairs. Not quite the romantic setting Cole would have picked. Maybe this wasn’t a date after all. Maybe it really was one old friend taking another out to dinner.
But just as he began to step out of the car, the door of Raw swung open. It was Derek and Olivia. She was laughing at something he’d said and from the look on his face, the sound couldn’t have pleased him more. Cole’s eyes narrowed as the fucker placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the sidewalk where he asked the valet to hail them a taxi.
Against his better judgment, he pulled the door closed and said, “Follow that cab.”
Jonathan eased the SUV into traffic, trailing the cab at a safe enough distance so as not to attract attention. Clearly this wasn’t his first “tail.” Cole sank back into the soft leather seat. Fuck, he hated himself for doing this. But he had to know where he stood, once and for all.
It only took a few blocks for him to realize they were headed back to Olivia’s apartment. Don’t panic, he thought. She might just need time on her own to think. Or maybe she’s grabbing a few things before heading back to the penthouse. Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Grant. Fucking pussy.
Knowing the drill, Jonathan parked the SUV at the corner where the two men sat silently awaiting Cole’s verdict.
A hard rain began to fall as the cab’s tail lights flashed red in front of Olivia’s building. Cole watched through the steady swoosh of the SUV’s wiper blades as the two of them dashed from the curb to the door. He leaned forward in his seat, waiting to see her offer an extended hand or maybe even a friendly hug. Don’t kiss him, he thought, and for fuck’s sake don’t invite him in. He’d no sooner had the thought when Derek pulled the door open, holding it for Olivia before following her inside.
Fuck.
One minute.
Two.
Three.
After ten it became clear he wasn’t just seeing her to the door.
Cole’s hands fisted. He w
anted to punch the asshole in the face but seeing as how that wasn’t an option, he’d have to settle for pounding on the bag in his gym. “Back to the penthouse,” he told Jonathan.
“Yes, sir.” His driver’s eyes met his in the rearview mirror and Cole looked away. He’d been a fool to think a corporate raider like himself could compete with a hipster humanitarian who wanted a second chance with the girl he left behind. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now he was the fool who’d followed her home so he could watch it all play out.
Anger burned in Cole’s veins. He was furious with Derek for showing up when he did, but also for breaking Olivia’s heart two years ago. He was furious with Olivia as well, not just for taking her ex back to her apartment, but for sashaying her way into his life in the first place. With her stack of spreadsheets filled with mind-numbing data and photos of snotty-nosed bats, she’d pushed her way into his life one aggravating day at a time.
But if Cole was really honest, he was most furious with himself. How the hell had he let himself get so caught up in this? He was acting like a lunatic, running out of the house in his sweat-soaked clothes so he could what, profess his undying love to a woman who was on a date with someone else? That was the type of shit that went down in the movies Rebecca dragged him to, not in real life. Maybe this was the universe’s way of giving him a head check. He didn’t want someone like Olivia. Not really. In fact, his life would be much easier without her. She was demanding and high maintenance and . . .
. . . and . . .
Cole let out a sigh as he slumped back against the seat.
. . . and absolutely perfect.
Fuck him, he didn’t want easy. He wanted Olivia. He wanted his wife.
He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to collect his thoughts. What the hell did he know about relationships? His father had been a serial adulterer, and until now his own love life had been nothing more than casual encounters designed to avoid emotional attachment. But for the first time in his life, Cole wanted more. He wanted a future with Olivia. He wanted to come home to dinners where she prattled on about her latest left-wing research and nights where they talked across the pillow about anything and everything. Christ, he could even imagine having kids with her. And not the token boy and girl who couples in his tax bracket trotted out at events then shipped off to boarding school, but an actual family.
Except at the moment that dream wasn’t anywhere close to becoming a reality. No doubt Cole was out of his depth when it came to matters of the heart, but even he knew they weren’t headed in the right direction. Instead of a fairy tale, their story read more like a tragedy. Boy meets girl. Girl drives him fucking nuts. Boy falls for girl. Girl breaks his heart.
Realization shot down his spine, and Cole sat up in his seat. He wasn’t his father, but if he kept down this same path, he’d end up with a life that was just as empty. Keeping people at arm’s length might have been protecting him, but it sure as hell wasn’t making him happy. And in his rush to escape a situation that had the potential to end in heartbreak, he’d skipped one very important step: boy tells girl how he really feels.
“Turn around,” he barked.
“Sir?”
What the hell had he been thinking? The phrase “cut and run” wasn’t even in his vocabulary. When it came to business, Coleman Grant III went after what he wanted. He didn’t stand on the sidelines, and he sure as hell didn’t walk away from a fight. And although the stakes were much higher here than at the office, and he was clearly in unchartered waters, there was no way he could sit by while the woman he loved went to bed with another man. He had to tell her how he felt. Then, if she still chose the other guy . . .
He pushed the unwelcome thought from his mind. “Take me back to Olivia’s. Now.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cole steadied himself as Jonathan swung the car into a tight U-turn he was pretty sure left a hefty amount of rubber on the street. He ran a light that was more orange than yellow and in a matter of moments jerked the SUV to a stop in front of Olivia’s building.
“Good luck,” Jonathan said as Cole shot out of the car.
No doorman meant no obstacle, which meant seconds later Cole had the rainbow door in his sights.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cole strode down the hall with a single-minded purpose. One way or another he was going to convince Olivia that what had started out as a sham had turned into something real, something worth fighting for, something they should let themselves explore.
But as he lifted his hand to knock on the door, panic gripped Cole’s chest. Time stood still as his fist hovered in front of the painted wood. What if she didn’t feel the same way? It was possible she wanted things to stay exactly as they were, or worse, to go back to the way they’d been before the weekend. Or what if she did want Cole but wanted Derek even more? What if she answered the door half naked, then slammed it in his face? What if . . .
What if the realization that he loved her had come too late?
Questions buzzed in Cole’s brain until he had no choice but to silence them with a loud knock. To his relief, Olivia wasn’t half naked when she answered the door. In fact, she wasn’t naked at all. Although she wasn’t wearing the skirt and sweater she’d had on when she left the penthouse either. Instead, she’d changed into a ratty-ass T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants with the University of Illinois printed in bright orange letters down one leg.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her eyes were wide but watery and Cole thought he detected a hint of redness. Fuck. She’d been crying. If that SOB had hurt her again, he was going to be gathering his teeth up off the carpet.
Cole looked past her into the apartment. The entire place was dark except for one small lamp on the table next to the couch. “Where’s Derek?” He had no idea why he asked. It was obvious the guy wasn’t there, and aside from that, his whereabouts were really of no consequence.
“I sent him home.”
Cole frowned. “But you invited him up.”
She cocked her head and hip to one side. “How do you know that?”
Because I was watching you like some sort of creepy stalker was what he should have said. Instead all he said was, “I saw the two of you on the sidewalk when I pulled up.” Yeah, that didn’t sound much better.
“I had a couple of his books,” she said. “He asked if we could swing by to get them.”
Sounded like an excuse to come up if Cole had ever heard one. And one from college no less. The dude really needed to update his moves. Still, that didn’t explain why he wasn’t there now. “Guess he was anxious to get home and start reading them,” Cole said. It was a lame comment, but one he hoped would solicit the information he wanted.
“I needed time to think, so I asked him to leave.”
Thinking is good. Much better than what he’d feared he would find. But what if the thoughts all lead to a future with Dr. Dreamy? “Look,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “I know I can’t compete with the illustrious Dr. Derek Hunt—and what kind of a name is that anyways? Sounds like a character out of Grey’s Anatomy?”
“You watch Grey’s Anatomy?” she asked, almost as surprised by that fact as she was with his arrival.
“Rebecca likes it, and I’ve watched with her a few times.” He shook his head. “Stop changing the subject.”
“You’re the one who spun off into some television show. And I’m not exactly sure what the subject is anyways, Cole. Or why you’re here for that matter.” She stepped back and swung the door open wider. “But come on in before you tell the entire building.”
Fuck, he was so nervous his palms were actually starting to sweat. Cole had never backed down from a challenge in his life. Whether in school or in business, he stepped up and took control of any situation. But this wasn’t a classroom full of Harvard students, a board room of his most fierce competitors, or even a convention hall jam packed with shareholders. This was a dumpy little apartment near the L track
s, and his audience was one woman. One tiny woman who at the moment held his fate, not to mention his heart, in her hands.
Cole took a deep breath, although it was anything but calming. Because when he began to speak, his words didn’t sound like the measured tones of an in-control CEO; they sounded like the ramblings of a crazy man.
“I can’t do this anymore, Olivia. Running around pretending to be married but acting like roommates. Friends, enemies—what was that word you used, frenemies? I mean what kind of person uses words like that? Certainly not anyone I’ve ever met before. But that’s just it, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before, and you can call it whatever you want but this”—he motioned between the two of them—“is different now. Hell, everything’s different now. In Vegas, it was just business—”
She raised a brow.
“And fucking,” he added. “But we couldn’t stand each other. Then, I don’t know, something happened. I can’t even say for sure when it started, but everything has changed. At least for me. And you must feel the same way, even if you don’t realize it yet, otherwise why would Cassie have come to see me and—”
Olivia gaped at him. “Cassie came to see you?”
Guess they hadn’t had time for that full-disclosure girl talk yet. “Yes. She told me that you stood up to my grandmother—which would account for the fact that my phone isn’t full of her usual voicemail threats—and she told me about what happened with Derek. He was an asshole to treat you that way and a fucking idiot to let you go, but his loss is my gain and I’ll be damned if I’ll make the same mistakes he did.”
Cole tried his best to get a bead on Olivia’s reaction, but her expression gave little away. Not that it mattered, he was in too deep to turn back now. Sink or swim, he had to tell her how he felt.
“You’ve changed my life, Olivia. Granted, not all for the better. I could do without the crappy music, or the shoes you seem to just step out of as you walk through the house, or the soggy tea bags you leave on the counter. How one tiny woman can be such a tornado is beyond me but—”
Black Tie Optional (Wild Wedding Series Book 1) Page 25