“Another time?” she asked.
“You said I should ask you another time, and I do need coffee.”
She grinned at him, still thrilled with this new attention. And he was cute. He seemed to have spent the weekend outside as his skin had lost a little of its academic pallor. His pale gray eyes were now a striking contrast to his skin.
He raised a hopeful eyebrow at her study.
“I’m actually seeing someone right now,” Olivia said. His face fell. “But would you consider another blind date?”
“Oh.” A look of mild terror flashed in his eyes.
“I promise I’ve got good taste. She not only has a great personality, but she’s got a smokin’ bod.”
“A smokin’ bod?” he laughed.
“Yep.”
“Okay,” he admitted. “I’m intrigued.”
“Her name is Gwen. She works here at the university. But before this goes any further, let me be clear. Gwen’s in administration. She doesn’t have a degree, but she’s smart and determined. If you have a problem with that, tell me now.”
He looked genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”
“Tenured professor? Rising star? I need you to ask yourself whether you’re an arrogant ass.”
“An arrogant…” Paul burst into deep, rich laughter, and she had her answer. An arrogant ass would never laugh like that at himself. “I don’t think I am,” he said. “Do you want me to ask around?”
She grinned and shook her head. “No, you seem all right. So, what do you think? Are you interested?” Olivia leaned a little closer. “She already looked up your picture. She thinks you’re cute.”
His cheeks went slightly pink. “Oh, yeah? Well, I can hardly walk away from that, can I?”
Olivia suppressed the urge to clap her hands and bounce. “Okay. I’ll talk to Gwen.” She drew a business card from her purse and wrote Gwen’s phone number on the back. “Will you call her?”
He handed over one of his cards. “I’m putting my life in your hands. Can you live with that responsibility?”
“I’ll try.”
“Okay. I’ll trust you then. If you’re sure you’re already taken.”
“Not taken,” she corrected. “But definitely occupied.”
Olivia waved goodbye and continued on her path, but she detoured toward the hallway that led to Gwen’s office. Gwen was on the phone, so Olivia tossed the card on her desk and smiled.
“Absolutely,” Gwen said, picking up the card with a frown. “Monday at the latest. Yes. Uh-huh. Listen, a student just walked in, so I’ll have to talk to you next week. Thanks, again.” She set the phone in the cradle and pointed the card at Olivia. “What’s this about?”
“Paul is interested in a date. With you. He’s going to call.”
“What?”
“You’re welcome.” Olivia spun to walk away, but Gwen snagged her shirt.
“What do you mean he’s interested?”
“I told him about you and he’s going to call to ask you out.”
“Sight unseen?” she scoffed.
“Kind of. I told him you had a smokin’ bod.”
Gwen gasped. “You did not!”
“I did, too.”
“I haven’t done a sit-up in weeks!”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I was talking about your boobs and you know it. Your taut abs didn’t enter into the equation.”
“Olivia…” she started, puffing up in outrage, but a smile escaped her control. Then a laugh. “Oh, all right. I suppose…. Do you think he’ll call?”
“Definitely. I told him you thought his picture was cute and he blushed.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “He blushed? Really? That’s kind of adorable.”
“You should see it in person.”
“Maybe I will.”
Olivia left Gwen staring down at the card. It felt good to spread the joy around. And if Gwen started getting lucky they could go out and gloat together. That would be way more fun than a book club.
She floated through three hours of work in her office, using most of her time to begin a plan. By lunch she hadn’t actually built anything yet, but she’d assembled some pieces, she’d made some lists. She was just opening her online bank statement for the fourth time when the phone rang. She reached for it, her eyes touching on the numbers on the computer screen, hoping they’d ticked up since the last time she’d looked. She hadn’t been vicious enough with Victor over the settlement. She hadn’t wanted the fight.
“Olivia Bishop,” she said into the phone.
“Olivia,” her mother said. She always sounded vaguely disapproving. Always. Olivia had learned not to take it personally.
“Hello, Mom.”
“I was just calling to tell you that your father and I are off to Vancouver for two weeks. We’re leaving tomorrow evening.”
“Oh, I’m glad you called. I’d totally forgotten. Have a great time.”
“We will. Or at least your father will. You know how much he loves being on the water.” Her voice suggested that there was something indefinably distasteful about that. Olivia had gotten through her teenage years by pretending her mom had a speech impediment that made her sound critical no matter the place or situation.
“Well,” she said brightly, hoping to cut her mom off. “Call me when you—”
“What are you up to this summer? Dating anyone?”
Good Lord. Not this again. “Mom—”
“It’s time to get back in the game, darling. Nobody likes a quitter.”
“Thanks,” she muttered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m not trying to be cruel, but you’re thirty-five. You don’t have the luxury of nursing your wounds for years. You—”
“Mom, I’m a little busy for dating.”
“Doing what? Working? You university people don’t work nearly as hard as your father and I did, and we always had time to socialize.”
Yes, they certainly had. Half their weeknights had been spent at dinners with VIPs. “I’m busy. I’m supporting myself. And…I’m working on a side project, too.” She thought immediately of Jamie and pushed that thought away. “I’m thinking of starting my own business.” For a split second, she wondered if her mom might perk up at that. Maybe she wouldn’t reach approval, but she might possibly crest neutral. Her mother admired nothing more than entrepreneurs.
“Your own business?” she asked. Her voice crackled with doubt, sinking Olivia’s expectations. “What kind of business?”
“Do you remember what my plans were when I went to school? What I wanted to do?”
“Oh, darling. Not that again. That’s not the life for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re not a shark, are you?”
Olivia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “Mom…what are you talking about?”
“You’re not a predator, Olivia. You need someone.”
“Someone for what?” she snapped.
“Someone to take care of you. Your father and I felt Victor was a little old for a girl your age, but at least we knew he’d support you.”
Olivia felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. The chill spread from there, easing down her back and along her arms. This was what her mom had been trying to tell her for the past year. All the hints. All the disapproving comments and worried warnings. She’d never said it outright before, but this had been the crux of it all. You’re weak.
“Why would you say that to me?”
“Oh, sweetheart, don’t take it the wrong way. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve always been serious and quiet and smart. You always did what we asked you to.”
“I was trying to be a good daughter.”
“And you were! That’s what I mean. You’ve always been a lovely girl. Always.”
“I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a grown woman.”
“Of course you are, sweetheart.”
The condescension in her mother’s voice made Oliv
ia’s hands tremble. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.” She hung up before her mom could object. If Olivia stayed on one more moment, she’d start screaming.
Unbelievable.
On one hand, she was shocked. On the other, she wasn’t surprised at all. It had all been right there for so many years. Sit down and be nice so somebody will put up with you.
Be good. Be quiet. Don’t cause trouble.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pressing her trembling hands to her face. They’d taught her to be an obedient daughter who didn’t cause trouble, and now her mother held it up as a fatal flaw.
Though Olivia watched the phone nervously, her mom didn’t call her back. She didn’t want to have a deep, difficult conversation any more than Olivia did. So Olivia turned her eyes to the charts she’d printed out. The tables and graphs and lists. The future she wanted to build out of nothing.
You’re not a shark.
Maybe she wasn’t. She’d certainly given up all her dreams easily enough before. And hadn’t it been a bit of a relief? Hadn’t it felt like a burden had been lifted when she’d finally given in to Victor’s plans?
The numbers blurred for a moment, turning into columns of sooty, shifting liquid. Don’t let her under your skin, she told herself. That’s what those chills had been. It had been her mother’s doubt slipping beneath the surface of Olivia’s body, infecting her.
Olivia pushed to her feet and walked out to the hallway to make her way to the little galley kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee that was alarmingly black, but steam coiled up from it, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t add sugar or cream, she simply cradled the cup in her hands to warm them. When she got back to her seat, she took one sip and then another. She drank the whole cup, and by the time the coffee was gone, the chills had passed and Olivia felt better. Much better. She wasn’t floating, but she wasn’t stumbling, either.
She closed the online bank statement without looking at it again. It didn’t matter how small her savings were. She’d build them up. She’d make a way.
Even the most docile pet could turn dangerous when it needed to survive, and everything inside her was filling up with the instinct to fight.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
OLIVIA COULDN’T REMEMBER much of class although it had ended only half an hour before. She’d managed a halfway decent presentation on staffing and hiring practices, but she’d been distracted by her frantically working brain. An urgency had overtaken her, a need to turn her plans into action. But as she’d broken the class into groups to work on a mock budget, she’d managed a few spare thoughts for Jamie.
A few X-rated thoughts, despite her fractured mind. She loved the way he moved. The way his hands shaped ideas as he brainstormed with the group. The way his mouth stretched into a smile when someone cracked a joke. His shoulders were so wide and straight. His stance so confident. Watching him made her sigh, and when Jamie caught her looking, she didn’t even blush. She just stared straight at him and let him see her lust.
She wasn’t going to be weak anymore, not if she could help it.
Their lunch plans took them to a restaurant that would serve as a good comparison for Jamie’s ideas. But Olivia couldn’t stop herself from floating an idea of her own. “I have a proposal,” she said firmly.
Jamie looked up from the menu he was studying.
“I’d like to frame this in a different way. I’d like you to be my client instead of my student.”
“You want me to be your…client?”
“For the restaurant! Not the…other stuff?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Other stuff?”
She wanted to blush and stammer, but instead she held his gaze. “The sex will continue to be free.”
He smiled so widely she could see his back teeth.
“What I mean is that I’m moving forward with my plans. I’m going to start this business, consulting with restaurateurs. Helping them with start-ups.”
“Wow! That’s great, Olivia.”
“I’m moving slowly, but what I’d like to do is use you as a test client. At no charge, of course.”
“I thought I already was. Isn’t that why we’re doing reconnaissance at this fancy Italian place?”
“Yes, but I’ve been teaching you. Helping you figure it out on your own. What I’m proposing is that I work it up for you, as if you were a client who’d hired me to do just that.”
“Isn’t that cheating?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not helping you with a class project. I want to help you make this real. I want to help me make this real.”
He took her hand. “Absolutely. If you want to do this, it’d be a godsend for me. What do you need?”
“All your files. Everything you’ve put together. I’ll turn it into a portfolio. A really glossy one with photographic mockups of the interior and exterior. Finished menus. Profit and loss reports. Budgets. All of it.”
“And what will I do?”
“Work with me, of course. And maybe allow me to use your brewery portfolio as a selling tool for my consulting firm?”
“Absolutely.”
Relief swept over her. “Thank you. This will be great. And it’ll save you from having to do reconnaissance on the other brewpubs. I know you were uncomfortable with it, but now you won’t have to do it. I will.”
“That would be amazing. Although I’m not sure how I feel about you flirting with other bartenders.”
She tapped his foot with hers. “I won’t flirt with them.”
“Promise?”
“Well…only if it means getting more information.”
“But you’re not going to give them some sob story about how you don’t know how to have fun, are you? I still can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Hush,” she scolded, holding back a laugh. “You know that was all true.”
“Yeah, well, no one else ever managed to break the towel bar in my shower.”
Instead of giving his foot another tap, she kicked him. “That was you!” she whispered.
“I was trying to brace myself against the force of your—”
She lunged for him and pressed her fingers to his lips. “Stop!” she gasped, laughing too hard to put any strength into the words. His warm eyes told her he was thinking of exactly what they’d done in the shower. How he’d pressed her against the tile. How she’d— His mouth opened and she jerked back from the feel of that heat.
“Naughty,” she scolded.
Their pizzas arrived while Olivia was still blushing. They were supposed to be individual size, and they’d ordered three of them to get a good feel for the variety, but her eyes widened at the sight of them. “These are individual portions?” she sputtered.
The waiter laughed. “They’re maybe a little more than one serving.”
“We can handle it,” Jamie assured her, sliding the first slice onto her plate before he served himself.
“You can take the leftovers home,” she said. “I don’t need the calories.”
“That works out perfectly because I’m a growing boy.”
She descended into laughter again. He certainly was a growing boy. He grew and grew every time she asked him to.
While she was still thinking dreamily about his body, Jamie turned serious. “Too much cheese,” he said, pointing at his slice. “Now, normally, that’s not a phrase I’d utter, but it’s overwhelming the thin crust.”
She took a bite. “Yes, it needs better balance.”
“Too greasy. But it’s good. I really like the crust.”
“What do you think about having different kinds of crust?”
He nodded as he swallowed another bite. “We’ll definitely need a whole wheat crust in Boulder. Maybe even a gluten-free.” He frowned. “I’ll have to find out what that means.”
“You’ll have to bring in a chef fairly early on,” Olivia suggested. “He’ll be able to provide a lot of input to the menu. You’ve got a great start, but keep an ope
n mind for a chef’s suggestions.”
“Absolutely. I’m no expert. I just know what I like to eat.”
“On that note…try the one with artichoke.”
Jamie groaned—the veggie pizza had been Olivia’s choice—but he agreed that the strong flavors were intriguing. By the end of the meal, she could see the way his mind was turning, ideas tumbling through his head. His eyes looked far away, so when her phone rang, she didn’t feel guilty about slipping it from her purse.
“Do you mind if I get this? It’s Gwen, and—”
“No problem.”
Olivia walked toward the front door, already smiling as she put the phone to her ear. “Well?” she asked. Gwen could only be calling about one thing…lunch with Paul.
“Well…” Gwen drawled coyly.
“How did it go?”
“Okay, he’s just as cute as you said he was. And I’m so glad we went to lunch, because if it had been dinner, I would’ve taken him home afterward and broken the first-date rule.”
“Really?” Olivia squealed, pacing along the sidewalk.
“He was so funny! I swear I was laughing the whole time. Who would’ve thought a business-law guy could be goofy?”
“You mean goofy in a good way? Because I’ve known some who were fantastically nerdy.”
“Yes, goofy in a good way. He’s so smart, but he likes bad television and scary movies and great music. And his socks matched. And he smelled really, really good.”
“Oh, yeah? Just how close did you get?”
“Not close enough. But he asked if I’d like to go out again, and he said he’d call….”
Olivia smiled down at a rosebush that was just starting to show buds. “Do you think he will?”
“God, I hope so. I think he will, but who can tell? Men are such teases sometimes.”
“I bet he’ll call. Men love it when women laugh at their jokes, right? You probably made him feel manly and powerful.”
“Yeah? Well, let’s hope he is manly and powerful. I could use a little of that in my life.”
“Do you want me to call him and see what he thought?”
Gwen sighed. “I do, but you’d better not. Not until next week when he hasn’t called.”
“Got it. I’ve got to get back to my date now, but congratulations. I’m glad it worked out.”
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