by Lulu Pratt
Relaxing into my chair, I settle in for the long flight. Thoughts of Olivia and my mom dance around in my head.
If I play my cards right, I’ll be bringing Olivia home to meet my mom sooner than later.
That’s my final thought before sleep claims me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
OLIVIA KING
A week has passed since Sebastian’s surprise visit and I still can’t wipe the dreamy smirk off my face.
Because it was so brief, it feels like something I dreamed up in my overactive imagination.
I still can’t believe he’d dropped everything only to be with me for a few hours. No one has ever made a gesture quite that big for me before. Not that I usually date men wealthy enough to pull such a stunt. But still, you catch my drift. It’s the thought behind it that counts which is why I can’t stop grinning like a fool.
Currently, I’m in the kitchen cleaning up Arnold’s breakfast. We’re going to do some exercises together once I finish tidying. It’s a part of our morning routine.
“Your smile is pretty bright considering it’s not even seven,” a male voice calls from the entrance of the room.
I know it’s Gavin so I don’t even bother looking up. Gathering plates and a glass from the table, I mosey over to the sink and throw a greeting over my shoulder.
“Hi, Gavin. How are you this morning?” I ask politely.
It’s a Saturday so he has the day off. His mood has improved only marginally since our tense encounter and Sebastian’s pop-up visit last week hadn’t helped at all.
“When you’re done in here, come to my office. We need to have a word.”
Frowning, I turn to face him now.
“What about your father’s exercises? You know I like to maintain a routine.”
Gavin shrugs flippantly. “The exercises can wait. I’ll be expecting you,” he says turning to leave.
Somewhat peeved, I place the dishes into the dishwasher and wipe down the table and countertops. After popping my head into the living room to tell Arnold I’m coming shortly, I journey to the back of the house to meet Gavin as he requested.
“Have a seat, Olivia,” he commands with his gaze focused on the chair across from him.
“What’s going on, Gavin?”
Eyes trained on me, he starts speaking.
“I wanted to tell you how much my father and I love having you here.”
Praise? From him? Given the last month or so, I definitely hadn’t been expecting that.
“I love being here. You know I have a soft spot for Arnold and I enjoy taking care of him,” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he nods slowly before looking at me.
What is this about? I can’t stop the suspicious thoughts flitting through my head because something about this just feels off.
“You’re pretty special,” he remarks, meeting my eyes. Something in his look sets off my internal alarm bells.
Standing, I try to bow out gracefully, “If it’s all right with you, it’s time for your father’s exercises and I hate to keep him waiting long.”
“Not so fast,” he says practically sprinting around his desk to stand next to me. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss.”
I gulp audibly, afraid of what it will be.
“Such as?”
Please don’t be a creep, please don’t be a creep.
Chanting that repeatedly in my head doesn’t change the wary feeling rising in my gut.
“Watching you with my father has made me realize just how special you are. To the both of us,” he says significantly.
No, no, no.
“It’s no secret that you’re attractive but your patience and kindness with him makes me crave you even more.”
He did NOT just say that!
“Gavin, please don’t do this.”
“It’s time you know how I feel.” He leans in to me. “I want you, Olivia.”
Taking two steps back, my head is shaking furiously. “I have to go, Gavin.”
In the blink of an eye, his back is flush against the door blocking my escape.
“No. You don’t.”
A chill runs up my spine at his sinister tone.
“Let me out of here right now, Gavin.” My voice is shaking, but only because I’m pissed.
“What? You don’t want me because I’m not a billionaire like that dick who showed up in the middle of the night?”
“Gavin, move out of my way.”
His other words aren’t even worth a response.
“No,” he taunts, reaching out to grab my wrist. “I want my turn with you.”
Sick to my stomach, I try to yank my arm from his grasp but he only tightens his hold.
“Gavin, don’t do this. Don’t be this guy,” I warn, still wriggling my wrist and trying to get free of his tight hold.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Olivia. Initially, I was okay watching you from a distance because it was best for my father’s care if things didn’t get too messy between us. However, now I want more. The thought of you with anyone else makes my blood boil and I want you to myself,” he says possessively, pulling me in closer to him.
“Let me go,” I demand hotly. Anger is the only emotion I feel right now and it’s tinting my vision with streaks of red.
“No,” he laughs darkly. “I told you, I want my turn.”
When Gavin dips his head to kiss me, I lose it.
With a swift kick to his groin and a right hook to his jaw with my free hand, I disentangle myself as he falls to the floor.
Seizing the freedom in the moment, I pull the door open and take off down the hallway to my room.
Pulse pounding in my ears, my fingers grab my phone from the nightstand. With shaky fingers, I key in the passcode just as Gavin appears in the doorway.
“Come near me and I swear to God, I’m calling the cops.”
“You think you’re so smart,” he leers, watching me from his post at the door.
“Gavin, why are you doing this? Don’t you care about your father? That’s the only reason I’m here and I thought I made that crystal clear.”
Gavin tilts his head at my statement before shaking it.
“Things change, Olivia. The same way you swore up and down you were single when I hired you. And now you’re suddenly flying to exotic islands for vacations and sneaking off in the middle of the night to fuck some guy. I decided that I want my turn, too. I’ve been patient enough,” he snarls at me.
“You disgust me,” I say with enough venom in my voice to scare even me.
“That may be the case but you’ll do it if you care about my father as much as you say.”
My antenna sticks straight up when he says that. What the hell does he mean by that?
“Because if you don’t give in, you’re fired and I know you don’t want to disappoint the old man, isn’t that right?” he asks, his voice taking on a mocking tone.
“Why are you doing this?”
None of it makes sense. Before my trip, he’d never so much as acknowledged me beyond saying “hi” and “bye.” Now he wants me to believe he’s just been “waiting his turn”?
The whole thing makes me want to vomit.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I tell him. “But I’m not going to abandon your father.”
“Tread lightly, Olivia. A lot is on the line here. Before you say no, make sure you’re okay with failing my father in the process.”
Shaking my head, I regard him with hatred in my eyes. I can’t believe he’d be so heartless. He knows how much I’ve grown to care for Arnold and my determination to see this fight through until the end. Would he really put his father’s life in danger just to prove a point?
“You wouldn’t.”
“Give me what I want and you’ll never have to find out.”
“No,” I say firmly, so sure that he’ll drop it.
I should know better because he doesn’t let it go.
“That’s a shame,” he murmurs shaking his he
ad sorrowfully. “I was really looking forward to having my fill of you. But I guess you want to do this the hard way. Have your stuff out of my house in twenty-four hours. You no longer have a job.”
And with that, he turns and walks away.
What the hell just happened?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
OLIVIA KING
Settled on Winnie’s couch, I huff and look around the living room at my scattered bags and unorganized belongings. Because of how sudden my move was, I’d been in no way capable of cataloging things before I just dumped them in a bag or box.
True to her nature, Winnie hurried over and helped me pack when I called her upset about what happened. It wasn’t so much that I was sad to lose my job. It was the fact that now Arnold was susceptible to God knows what because of his son’s reckless behavior.
Everything transpired before eight and now it’s nearly midnight and I’m finally taking a deep breath.
“You okay?” Winnie asks, plopping down on the sofa beside me.
I turn my head to face her and feel a pang of guilt when I get a good look at her.
Simply put, my friend looks beyond exhausted and I know she has to get up and head to the office bright and early, even though it’ll be Sunday.
“I feel like I should be asking you that. Why don’t you go to bed? I’m fine. I promise,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile.
When I’d mentioned checking in to a hotel for the night, she objected and demanded that I sleep in her spare bedroom.
“Nonsense. We’re having a glass of wine to celebrate your freedom. I know it didn’t come in the way you planned but it’s still freedom nonetheless.”
She pulls a bottle of red wine seemingly out of thin air. Winnie makes quick work of filling two glasses and setting the bottle on the coffee table. We clink glasses and recline against the comfortable cushions of her couch.
“Cheers to you, girl.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” I tell her.
“Please, I haven’t done anything you wouldn’t do for me. Have you talked to Sebastian about everything that’s happened today?”
My heart dances as soon as I hear his name and my smile isn’t too far behind it. Despite my shitty day, just the mention of him has me feeling lightheaded.
“Not yet. I honestly haven’t paid too much attention to my phone today. I’ll give him a call before I go to bed. It’s not as late over there so I have time.”
“You officially no longer have an excuse not to visit him in California. He’ll probably have you relocated and settled by the end of the week,” she says matter-of-factly, taking another sip of her wine.
“Your stuff is already packed,” she says with a half smile.
An hour later, after our second glass of wine, Winnie treks down the hall to her room. After locating something to sleep in, I grab my clothes and head for the guest room on the opposite side of the apartment.
Once I’ve showered, I slip under the covers and press my phone to my ear. Anticipating Sebastian to answer, I frown when it rings endlessly. Calling him again, I get the same result.
He must be busy.
When I called the third time, the phone bypasses ringing and goes straight to voicemail.
A heavy feeling settles in my gut but I try to shrug it off.
He’s just busy.
Even though it’s eleven at night where he is, I know that Sebastian often pulls long, unpredictable hours. So this must be one of those nights.
When I’m prompted to leave a message after the tone, I sigh and start speaking. “Hi, Bash. I know you’re probably busy working but I just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been a rough day. Give me a call when you get this. Bye for now.”
After leaving the message, I decide to try to get some sleep. I’m mentally and physically worn out.
However, my overactive mind is whirling from the day’s events and I sit up on my phone clicking through different apps.
Suddenly, an alert sounds and my hopes are quickly crushed when I realize that instead of a text from Sebastian, the sound is from the stupid Google alerts Winnie set up on my phone when I first returned from vacation.
She claims that because of who I’m dating, I should always be privy to what people are posting about me. I haven’t used it once, always ignoring the notifications. Until tonight.
Blame it on the wine, but I find myself in a rather inquisitive mood. I open the notification and wait for my phone to load the landing page.
From the heading on the website, I can see that it’s clearly a gossip blog covering pop culture.
What the hell could they be posting about me? Sebastian and I haven’t been seen out together since Turks and Caicos. His visit here last week was too brief to garner any real attention. At least I thought so.
It doesn’t take me long to get my answer and I feel like the bottom has just dropped out of me.
There, on the screen in full color, is a picture of Sebastian and some blonde woman with legs that stretch on for miles.
What strikes me is that the woman is holding a colorful bouquet of flowers, smiling radiantly with her arm looped through Sebastian’s. His smile isn’t as wide as hers but it’s there and it cracks my heart in half.
For the first time, I allow my eyes to wander to the caption under the photograph:
“Just weeks after enjoying an island getaway with contest winner Olivia King, tech tycoon Bash Downs seems to have moved on from the fling. Today he was pictured out with his ex, supermodel Maya Levi. Have these two rekindled an old flame? YOU be the judge. Swipe through the photos and leave us your take below.”
His ex? The gravity of that information hits me with the force of ten-thousand bricks. Sebastian outright told me that he never dated anyone because of his demanding career.
And judging from the photos, they were very familiar with one another. The photos screamed intimacy. Their entwined arms, their smiles and their searing eye contact. Everything about it was nauseating.
My unanswered calls suddenly make sense. He wasn’t working late after all.
But he’d been busy all right.
An eerie sense of déjà vu settles over me, twisting the knife in my gut that much more. This is Jordan all over again, except more people get to witness my humiliation.
But there was no blog post to point out Jordan’s betrayal. This was worse.
What I thought was love for Jordan dims in comparison to what I feel for Sebastian. And he’d just stomped all over my heart.
I can’t believe I made myself vulnerable to him and believed the bullshit about him being “all in.”
My chest is constricting from the pain and I want to scream at the top of my lungs but I refuse to wake Winnie.
Why had he led me to believe we were more than we actually were? He’d snatched away my right to choose whether or not I wanted to be a part of his sick little lineup of women.
The screen blurs in front of me before I feel wetness on my cheek. But he isn’t worth my tears. Foolishly, I’d opened my heart up to someone who wasn’t worthy and now I have to face the repercussions.
Silly me.
With shaking hands, I quickly type out a text.
Message received loud and clear. I won’t bother you again.
My finger punches “send” as more tears threaten to fall. Refusing to feel sorry for myself, I swipe the moisture from my face and toss my phone across the bed.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SEBASTIAN DOWNS
I fucked up.
When I pulled out my phone tonight and saw those three missed calls from Olivia my stomach dropped to my shoes because I just knew she was calling to confront me about the pictures that surfaced with me and Maya.
Instead, I’d heard her tired but cheerful voice lamenting about a rough day and urging me to call her back.
Thinking I had time to warn her about what she may see later, I saved the voicemail just as a text message from her came through.
Message received
loud and clear. I won’t bother you again.
Swearing under my breath, I immediately call her to set the record straight, already realizing that my chances are pretty slim. She’s had time to form her own idea of what happened. On my fourth attempt, Olivia finally picks up the phone sounding groggy.
“H-Hello?”
“Olivia, I can explain.” There’s really no need for pleasantries at this point.
Silence stretches before Olivia speaks again, sounding confused.
“Sebastian?”
“It’s not what you think.”
I can tell the exact moment she comes awake fully. The grogginess leaves her voice and is replaced with icy anger.
“I don’t know, the pictures are pretty damning. You know, I thought I was special when I saw the pics from my trip and the way you looked at me. But I guess that’s just your default expression whenever the prospect of getting laid is on the table.”
“Olivia.” I don’t know why I can’t manage more but words fail me at the moment I need them most.
“Very convenient of you to forget you had a supermodel ex.” The anger in her voice is evident but so is the hurt and I feel like shit for being the cause of it.
Sighing, I try to string together my next few words carefully.
“Maya was in town for a family member’s funeral. I felt bad for her.”
It sounded silly to my own ears but it’s the absolute truth.
“So I’m guessing you felt bad for me too when we started our little fling. She looks pretty radiant for someone who’s grieving. How’d you pull that off?”
“You’re not a fucking fling!” I roar through the phone. “You’re everything. You have to believe me, Olivia.”
“I don’t have to believe anything. I made a mistake by letting down my guard around you. We should have left it all on the island.”
“Olivia, don’t. You know how I feel about you.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t trust a thing you say. I wouldn’t be lying here humiliated if your words were anywhere near the truth. Tell me something. If the shoe was on the other foot and you saw me out with another man, would you be okay with it?”