by Kira Blakely
Olivia
In all my life, no one had ever believed in me. My father always thought I was incapable of making the right decisions for my future, even if he’d been sweet about it. My mother had prompted me to enjoy the money upon which our family foundation had been built. My younger brother, Nathan, had been too drunk to care what I did. Bebe, my closest gal pal, told me to give Penny up before I lost all that was good about my life.
But Michael? He’d always believed I was capable of more than just facials and mani-pedis. He’d encouraged me to follow my dreams.
And now, he’d trusted me with this.
I lingered in the second guest bedroom in my Manhattan penthouse apartment, my fingers curled around the top railing of Penny’s crib. She lay on her back, her hands above her head and her cute, chubby face turned to one side.
Asleep at last.
I let go of the rail and rubbed the sweat off my palm on the side of my designer robe. A few months ago, I would’ve shuddered at the very thought. Now, it was already stained with grape juice from the “incident” this morning, which I’d remember forever as the “Grape Juice Nasal Explosion.” I grimaced.
It’d driven me out of the house with Penny in tow and landed me, in all my stupidity, right in Beckett Price’s sights in the Granite Room. Penny screaming as usual—she did that so much lately, and I couldn’t figure out how to make her happy—and me on the verge of a damn breakdown.
The Granite Room! It was high class, and I’d brought a toddler to one of the tables.
God, no wonder people thought I was so incapable. But it was the first restaurant that sprang to mind and, in my memory, it’d been a quiet peaceful place. The last place I’d had lunch with Mikey.
I sighed and walked out of Penny’s room, past the sparkly nightlight my brother had bought her and the dresser I’d had brought over from the family house, which had gone on sale after the funeral.
Everything has gone to shit. Everything.
I stepped out into the hall and tripped over the potty chair I’d bought for Penny last week. Splash!
Quite literally gone to shit.
Exhaustion hung on me like a cloak. The apartment was in shambles, and I didn’t have time to clean it, which I’d eventually have to do. Mike’s stipulations in the will had been clear—I was to do everything myself. No hired help. Just me and Penny, navigating the future, together.
Tears welled in my eyes and spilled over, partly because I was struggling, mostly because I missed Mike so goddamn much.
Mom and Dad passed when we were teens, and my older brother had been a father figure to me ever since. Now, he was gone. And I was expected to make this work.
“God,” I whispered and swallowed hard.
I stumbled down the hall toward my bedroom, yawning, half-crying, judging myself.
Maybe they were right. All of them. Maybe, you can’t do anything for yourself. Maybe you are a spoiled brat like everyone thinks. Like Beckett thinks.
My heart skipped a beat.
Beckett Price.
Yeah, he’d always hated me. And I’d hated him. Secretly, adored him.
I’d cultivated a seriously unhealthy obsession with him as a nineteen-year-old, which had culminated in…
“Don’t think about it. Never think about that night. It was long ago. Seven years ago. It meant nothing. He means nothing.” But that was a lie. Penny had calmed instantly in his arms, and I could understand why.
Dick or not, Beckett was an enigma wrapped in riches. And that scent…
I had a nose for scents—part of the reason I’d wanted to start my own business producing perfumes—and his was… it was cosmic. It was the stars in the night sky, and rain on fresh cut grass. It was everything.
“You’re too tired for this,” I muttered and entered my room, fisting the hips of my stained silk robe.
It was a mess in here, too. Bed sheets in disarray and Penny’s favorite stuffed animal—a regrettably cheerful dog—on the floor, one ear ripped. I’d piled all the clothes I’d usually give to my maid to clean in the corner.
“Ugh,” I said. “This will have to wait for tomorrow. All of it will.”
Spoiled? Yeah, definitely. Helpless? No. I wouldn’t let my brother down. The minute I’d found out they’d left me Penny I’d…well, I’d almost fainted from the shock, but I’d also determined I wouldn’t let them down.
Penny would be healthy and happy. She’d have a good education and childhood.
But this was hard. It was so damn hard.
Every second of it.
I’d been taken from high society parties—not night clubs, I hated those—debutante balls, and spa treatments to pleading with a miniature human to eat her snack instead of painting the kitchen with it in the span of a week.
I walked toward the bed, but Beckett Price sailed into my mind again.
An image of him from back in college, when he was twenty-one, towering over a nineteen-year-old me, the right side of his face hidden in shadow. That stare. That dark, devilish stare…
I changed course and headed for my closet instead. I creaked open the door and stepped in, ignoring the designer gowns and shoes, the Marc Jacobs bags and the array of jewelry in the display case at the end of the room. I rose onto my tiptoes and scraped around on top of the first cupboard.
“Ew,” I grunted at the dust coating my fingertips. Finally, they hit the side of a cardboard box. I tugged on its end and brought it down, stumbled, and crashed into the row of dresses hanging on the rail behind me. I sat down heavily on the carpet and flipped the lid off the box.
Inside were the memories.
College memories. Special secrets I’d tucked away and promised I’d never look back on.
I lifted the first letter with shaking fingers and opened it.
O,
Ocean eyes don’t match a watery smile. I never want to see you cry again.
I’ll destroy the man who hurts you.
Never forget that you will always be mine.
Beck
The letter that’d made me swoon after a breakup with another loser at college. The letter that’d made me so angry I’d threatened to slap Beckett if he dared act like I was his property again. Seven years was a long time to hold on to this crap.
I raised my other hand and considered balling up the letter, but I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
It was Beckett. The stranger who’d moved into the mansion next door when I’d just entered high school. The kid who’d rebelled and wound up paying the price for it. The guy who’d finally gone to college and taunted me with his very existence.
It was—
A high-pitched squeal started up down the hall, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh god,” I whispered. “Oh, god.” I couldn’t have a second to myself. Not even to reminisce on my love-hate for a man who’d simultaneously changed and abandoned me.
Suck it up. Get up.
I scuffled the letter back into the box and left it on the floor, then I dragged myself upright, using the wall as leverage, and hurried toward the door. “Coming, honey,” I called out, so Penny wouldn’t think she was alone.
It had to be weird for her—her stuff in a strange room. I didn’t have any pretty pink and blue paintings on the walls of her bedroom like in her old place.
I made it to her side in record time and found her standing up, rocking back and forth, wailing, tears streaming down her cheeks, her chubby fists gripping the crib’s railing.
“All right,” I said and reached for her. “All right, Penny. It’s OK.”
She shrieked and stiffened at my touch.
“What’s wrong, honey? Was it a nightmare? It’s all right, Auntie Olivia’s here. Libby, see? I’m here.” I stroked the tears from her cheeks, but she wouldn’t stop, and her fingers had an iron grip on those bars. “Come on, sweetie. Let me help you. Do you need your diaper changed? Are you hungry?”
“No, no, no, no, no, no! Daddy! Daddy!” she yowled.
“I know, baby. I know.” Tears burst from my eyes, and I turned quickly. If I cried in front of her, it would upset her even more.
“Where’s Daddy? Daddy and Mommy.”
It was too much. I couldn’t be this little girl’s whole world. She was just as hurt as I was. She didn’t understand her daddy and mommy weren’t in the next room. They were gone. I was all she had, and I wasn’t enough.
I raised shaking fingers to my eyes and wiped the tears from underneath them. Toughen up! She needs you. Don’t prove them right. I faced Penny again and put up a watery smile. “All right, it’s OK. Look, let’s go play. Let’s go for a walk, how about that?’
“No!” Penny howled and sat down in the crib. She raised her fists to her eyes and rubbed them. “I want Daddy!”
Hopelessness swirled in the pit of my belly. I had to do something to comfort her, but the truth was, I’d only ever been with Penny two or three times prior to Mikey and Shelly’s car accident. We were almost strangers, and I regretted that.
My life had been busy. Mikey had been consumed by family life. We hadn’t drifted, but we’d hardly visited each other enough.
Penny let out another despairing cry, and something inside me snapped.
I rushed from the room and down the hall, entered my bedroom, and grabbed the laptop from the nightstand. One Internet search later and I had it. The number I’d sworn I’d never dial, no matter what.
I typed it into my cell—Penny’s crying still echoing down the hall—then hit the green phone icon. I pressed the device to my ear and waited.
I held my breath. Please answer. Please, please answer.
“Price.” His voice sent a chill down my spine.
I blocked my free ear and inhaled, opened my mouth. I couldn’t get the words out.
“This is Price,” he growled. “Speak.”
I was frozen, even with Penny screeching from her room. Once again, Beckett had glued my lips shut, had driven a spike through my center all over again, and I wasn’t a college kid anymore. I was a grown-ass woman with a baby to look after.
“You’ve got five seconds of my time. Talk or I’ll hang up and block this damn number.”
“Beckett,” I managed, at last.
Silence greeted me.
“Beckett, I need your help. It’s Penny. She won’t stop crying. She’s asking for her dad and mom. I—” I was ashamed I couldn’t calm her down myself. I was ashamed I hadn’t seen my brother as much as I should’ve these past years. “You calmed her down this morning. Please. I wouldn’t call if I had any other option.”
Nothing but Penny’s wails filled my ears.
“Please?”
Chapter 3
Beckett
This was dangerous.
I was known for my savage attitude. For cutting losses no matter the collateral damage. I was the beast the staff in my office feared.
And now, I was the baby whisperer.
Muffled hellion screeches echoed from the other side of the door in front of me.
I raised a fist and knocked then tucked my arms behind my back and commanded everything and everyone in the hallway. Which was to say, nothing and no one. Since it was late, and it was empty.
The only reason I’d come was for Penny. Not for Olivia. Penny was Mike’s daughter, and Mike’s death was my fault. Not directly, but it may as well have been. I was as guilty as the driver of the other car.
I tapped the heel of my shoe, checking my Rolex. I’d only come for Penny. For Mike. And because another hour of work would’ve put me to sleep, anyway. The office was blessedly quiet at night.
Maybe if I repeated that shit enough, I’d believe it.
Olivia’s rich walnut door clicked and swung inward, and there she was.
There she fucking was.
Her hair loose around her shoulders, tumbling down to sweep the silken robe she’d tied closed at her waist. A purple stain ran down her left breast, and there were smudges on her hem. Her eyes were red and puffy again, and it pushed me closer to anger.
Why does she cry? Can’t she understand what that does to me?
“Where is she?” I asked.
“In the second guest bedroom—I, this way.” Olivia stepped back, her gaze sweeping up and down my body, taking in the suit, the stature. I entered her living area and blinked at the sheer mess everywhere.
Clothes, crayons, and the sink overflowing with unwashed dishes. Open plan kitchen- living room-slash-baby garbage dump. Olivia swayed off ahead of me, crunched a crayon in half and jumped but didn’t look back. I watched her ass wobble, then shook my head.
I was here to perform a task, and it wasn’t to check out my college crush’s ass. That sweet ass that’d always been mine. The one she’d taken away from me because I’d refused to love it.
“Down here.”
I hightailed it after her, my shoes pounding on the wooden boards, until I reached the source of wailing. I entered the guestroom and found Penny, sitting upright in her crib, tears streaking her little face, her eyes screwed up.
I bent and swept her up, holding her little body firm as possible. She stiffened and opened her eyes wide, her mouth dropped open, exposing four drool-slathered front teeth. She let out a peep, then blinked at me.
Yeah, the kid recognized me all right.
“Beck poo,” she gurgled. “Beck poo! Beck poo! Beck poo here. Beck poo’s gonna stay night?”
“That’s right,” I said. “I’m here.” I hadn’t come sooner. I hadn’t looked up Penny, because I’d been too wasted or too busy. Too fucked up inside from losing Mike to see past my own pain. Asshole.
I tucked the little girl against my chest and rocked her from side to side. “I’m here,” I repeated.
She let out a sniffle and a hiccup. “Beck poo. Where my daddy? Daddy coming?”
“No, baby, Dad and Mommy are not coming,” I whispered.
“Beck poo here.”
“Yes, I’m here.” Rock, rock, rock. She was too little to understand that it had to be this way. And god knew, I’d spent enough time around Mike and Shelly… I hadn’t seen Olivia once in all that time.
No wonder if was tough for these two girls. They barely knew each other.
I turned, still rocking the toddler, and caught Olivia’s gaze. She hovered near the doorway, her fingers twisting the end of that robe’s belt, her full bottom lip caught between her teeth.
I nodded once then walked Penny to her crib. “It’s time for you to sleep now, honey,” I whispered. “Beck poo will be right outside the door.” I laid her down again, stroked her little forehead, and grabbed her bottle from the corner.
Penny glugged some water down, then tossed it aside and settled. She blinked up at me. “I love you, Beck Poo.”
Well, damn. Yet another woman to fall for my charms. “And I love you,” I said. The first time I’d said it to a woman. The second time I’d ever thought it. I straightened and walked toward the doorway where Olivia slumped against the jamb, shaking her head, still clutching her silky belt.
I brushed past her, my suit jacket sleeve tugging at the arm of her robe, and heat spread up my side. Why was I still into her? It’d been seven years since that night, and I still couldn’t rid myself of whatever fuckboy feelings had taken hold of me.
I walked toward the living room and the apartment’s exit.
Her footsteps rushed up behind me. “Beckett, wait.” She caught my arm.
I froze, turned my head, looked down at the point of contact.
She released me.
I waited for whatever she had to say. Another weakness on my part. I waited for no one. Except O. Always O.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what I would’ve done tonight. Or this morning. Things are difficult right now. We’re settling in, but it’s been over a month, and it’s not getting any better.”
“What did you expect?” I asked, through gritted teeth.
She jerked back as if I’d yelled. “What do you mean?”
<
br /> “Come on, Olivia, you barely spent an hour with the child before Mike—before it happened. What did you expect? That she’d fall in love with you, and you’d have some independent woman movie-style fairy tale?” I hadn’t moved an inch since she’d touched me, but I did now. I closed in on her. She held her ground. “This is real life. Real life is hard. It’s gritty. It kicks you in the teeth, and you’ve got to spit out the blood and fragments and get the fuck up. You’ve got to move on.”
“Trust me, I know all about moving on,” she hissed, those cerulean pools blazing. The fire she’d lacked this morning and tonight was back. The same fire she’d had in college. “You taught me enough about that, all on your own.”
If only she understood—not a day had passed since that I hadn’t thought about this woman. Not one in the past seven years. “Then you should be fine without my help. Don’t call me again.”
“Beckett,” she grunted. “It’s not me who needs you. It’s Penny. I— Ugh.”
“Just admit you need the help. Admit that you’re not cut out for this. You should be in a spa or the Swiss Alps or some shit. You should’ve—”
“Don’t you dare tell me I should’ve given her up,” Olivia snapped and poked me in the chest. The stain on her breast would’ve been comical if not for the pure hatred seething from her. “Don’t you dare. I’ve heard it from everyone else, and I don’t need it from you.”
And we were back.
Back to the days of hating each other. Wanting each other. O had pretended she didn’t care, but it was my stupidity that I hadn’t seen through it at the time. That I’d walked off because she’d given away what I’d wanted myself. What I’d craved like the idiot twenty-one-year-old I was.
“Fine,” I said and walked around the back of her sofa. I sat down in front of the windows, floor-to-ceiling, affording a view of downtown Manhattan, glittering lights and towering skyscrapers. A New York skyline that should’ve soothed me, but didn’t. No TV in here. O had always been more into books.
“What are you doing?” Her voice cracked behind me.
“I’m enjoying the view,” I replied and cast a look back at her. The robe had slipped from her shoulder and exposed that slender, pale flesh. A few freckles spattered across her collarbone. “Care to join me?”