A quick visit to drop it off then leave.
Usually, she didn’t deliver items considering she had few staff members and liked to run the place herself. In terms of approach, she was very hands on, leaving very little leeway for anyone else to swoop in and take the store out from underneath her.
Yes, she supposed it stemmed from paranoia and hearing too many stories about people who stabbed others in the back, giving them just enough rope to hang themselves before they took everything.
She’d worked too hard to allow this to happen to her, so she took precautions, every single step she could think of, and the rest she handled herself. However, the thought of never seeing him again, even if it meant stepping away from her store for an hour on a busy day didn’t sit well with her.
She just wanted an excuse to gawk at him, to satisfy her hormones before she had to walk away for good, knowing that their paths were likely never to cross again. After all, he was a hotshot CEO, and she was a local thrift store owner.
In all likelihood, they had nothing in common.
So, she didn’t mean admiring from afar, a talent she’d learned to harness over the years. In this case, she would just have to keep her libido out of it, treating Milo as nothing more than a customer, one who ran his own company in the city, but a paying customer nonetheless.
It was all he ever could be.
With that thought in mind, she pushed the door to the company open, the cold air hitting her full force and causing her to shiver slightly. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms, wishing she’d thought to pick up a sweater on her way out.
Too late for that.
With its ceramic floor, high ceiling, and a steady stream of people going in and out, the building was everything she thought it would be, and then some. A huge mahogany desk sat in the center of it all, with several people behind it, all with earpieces.
With as much confidence as she could muster, she walked up to the desk, her sandals slapping against the floor, a harsh echo against the smooth click of heels. All the women around her had their hair straightened, and a pound of makeup caked onto their faces, all dressed in the latest fashion.
Olive stood out in her bohemian chic clothes, with her hair falling in loose waves around her face, her freckles standing in stark contrast. She’d never been more aware of how she looked until that very second, as if everyone in the room was assessing her, the buzzing in the back of her head an indication of that.
“How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Underwood,” Olive replied, not knowing what to do with her hands, so she let them fall by her side, the package tucked safely inside her messenger bag.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“I do. Olive Anderson.”
Fingers clattered across the keyboard, the woman in front of her eyeing the screen before she smiled and handed her a visitor’s pass. “Here you go, Ms. Anderson. Have a nice day.”
“Thank you.” Olive smiled and clipped the sign to her shirt, a label that she wasn’t one of them. This was high school all over again except she was different now, more comfortable in her own skin, and she wasn’t going to backtrack just because she was out of her element.
Following the instructions she was given, she walked straight ahead then took a right, stopping in front of the sleek high powered elevators, quiet music wafting out of the speakers.
As soon as it arrived, she stepped in, pressing the number to his floor and drumming her fingers against her thighs. According to the receptionist downstairs, he was on the highest floor, so that meant she had to wait at least fifteen floors before she reached him, her ears whistling in the process.
Mentally, she went over the list of things she had to do for the day, envisioning the new inventory, fresh out of customs, neatly packaged and wrapped, the sight of it making her heart race.
It was her one true passion, finding homes for things people no longer appreciated, the timeless and priceless, never going out of style. The brooch in her bag was an example of that, an exquisite piece with diamonds around the center, and a ruby in the center, gleaming flawlessly.
In reality, she’d freaked out when she saw it, afraid to handle such a delicate and beautiful thing but knowing that she trusted no one else to treat it with reverence and care.
Big bold letters flashed indicating that she was on the right floor, faster than she’d imagined possible. She gripped her bag as if her life depended on it and stepped out, nearly colliding head first with the person waiting for the elevator.
She drew to a halt and glanced up, the apology dying on her lips.
He was easily one of the most distinguished looking men she’d ever seen, handsome in a dark and brooding kind of way with deep soulful chocolate brown eyes, swirls she could drown in.
Next to Milo, he was the best-looking man she’d ever seen, and she wondered about her luck, two attractive men in the span of two days. Was fate finally smiling down on her?
That seemed to be the case because he seemed startled as well, taken aback really, one foot hovering in the elevator, and the other outside, straddling the two places at once, unable to decide where he was going.
Eventually, he gave a slight shake of his head and drew the foot away, placing both feet firmly on the ground and turning to face her, every bit the sharp business man in his crisp suit complete with dark loafers.
The only item missing was a tie, but she found that she liked how he looked without it, like he was the kind of person who liked to walk on the wild side, toying with the line between good and bad.
An odd little shudder went through her at the thought, and she straightened her back, forgetting for a moment why she was there. A few feet away, another powerful man was waiting for her, and she didn’t want to take too long.
In fact, the receptionist probably already informed him that she was on her way up, so he was sure to be hovering impatiently, checking his watch. People like Milo rarely had a minute to themselves, and she was no exception, simply here to make a quick delivery and make her way out of his hair.
She gave a start when she realized she was staring at the stranger and cleared her throat. “Hi.”
He smiled. “Hello.”
“I, uh, was wondering if, uh, you knew,” Olive stuttered, a blush steeling across her cheeks. She had no idea what was happening, or why she was fumbling with her words. He hadn’t even done anything for Christ’s sake, and she was already a pile of mush.
That didn’t make any sense.
This was supposed to happen once he touched her, maybe.
And that was a big if.
Jesus, Olive it’s been way too long since you’ve gotten laid. You can’t have wet fantasies about every good-looking man who walks your way. Get a hold of yourself, woman.
“Yes?” he prompted, kindly.
“Do you know where Milo’s office is? Milo Underwood?” Olive asked, the words pouring out of her mouth in a rush, so fast that she was afraid he might’ve misunderstood her, but instead he nodded and fell into step beside her.
“Here. I’ll show you where it is,” he offered, offering her a big smile. “I’m Julian by the way. Julian Banner.”
“Olive Anderson.”
“Nice to meet you,” Julian said, offering her his hand. She slipped her hand into his, surprised at how smooth they felt before she drew away, coughing slightly. She needed to get her hormones under control before she did something stupid.
“So, are you new here or something?” Julian inquired, casually, moving easily in and out of the throng of people walking past them, closer to the bright colored walls, with light bulbs flickering overhead.
“No, but you should get that problem fixed,” Olive commented, inclining her head towards the ceiling.
“Oh, yeah, it’s been doing that all week like something out of a horror movie,” Julian remarked. “It’s okay. I’m sure it’ll be fixed soon.”
“Good luck with that.”
Small talk.
She hated small talk.
Why couldn’t she just deliver the brooch and be out of there? Back to the relative safety of her store with its comfortable nooks and crannies. Sure, she didn’t mind stepping outside the box every now and again, but she had the distinct feeling in the pit of her belly that she was about to walk into something.
“So, you’re not new here. What are you doing here then?” Julian wondered, giving her a small yet friendly smile. She had to give him credit because she wasn’t doing much to hold up her end of the conversation, yet he didn’t seem to mind, ploughing on confidently.
“I’m just delivering something to Mr. Underwood,” Olive replied, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He ran his hands over his face, lingering on the slight stubble, the two o’clock shadow giving him a more rugged look. “I work at a thrift store close by.”
“That’s interesting,” Julian commented, surprise lingering in his tone. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for that kind of woman.”
Olive raised an eyebrow. “No? What did you have me pegged as then?”
“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime,” Julian replied, smirking. “Here we are.”
He made a sweeping hand gesture to indicate Milo’s office, with the words CEO in big bold letters. The door itself was slightly ajar with Milo leaning against the desk on the other side, smiling when he spotted her.
Then his eyes landed on Julian, and he looked displeased, the easy smile fading. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m just helping out a beautiful woman,” Julian answered, smoothly. “She looked a little lost, so I offered to help her out.”
“I bet you did,” Milo muttered.
“Excuse me?” Julian asked, blinking, some of the neutrality flickering to reveal annoyance. Okay, there was clearly some animosity between the two, and she had no intention of getting in the middle of whatever pissing contest they had going on.
It couldn’t possibly end well.
Still, she couldn’t help the little thrill that raced through her at the look on Milo’s face, something akin to jealousy.
Well, that escalated quickly.
5
Julian
Four weeks earlier
Julian was a man of few certainties, his entire life and his bread and butter hinging on his ability to make careful decisions based on experience, but at the end of the day, it was all risky.
Nothing was set in stone.
However, he was fairly sure that Milo wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his throat and shake him hard, hard enough to leave marks even, and he couldn’t say he blamed him for it.
After all, they both seemed to be interested in the same woman, a rare occurrence by all accounts given how different they were as men. Granted, they were business partners, though technically, Milo was his boss, his position as CEO granting him far more power, leverage and influence than Julian could ever dream of. But work-wise, they were on par, and everyone knew it.
Generally, they got along well, aside from a few competitive tendencies here and there, but all in all, they managed to keep things civil and friendly, and Julian would never admit this, not out loud and certainly not to the man himself, but he actually admired Milo and everything he’d accomplished here.
Coming from nothing and pulling himself up by the straps.
He hustled and got himself to the top, and Julian had so much respect for that, a man after his own heart, despite what he suffered. Although he often tried to avoid clashing with Milo, mostly to keep the peace more than anything else, this was one of the few cases where he didn’t care.
In fact, he would even go so far as to say he didn’t give a flying fuck.
Milo didn’t get to have everything just because he was at the top of the pyramid, at the height of the food chain. Besides, learning to graciously bow out was a good thing, but he was getting ahead of himself, especially if the look on Olive’s face was any indication.
She was staring back and forth between the two of them, picking up on the weird vibe between them, a weary look crossing her features before her mouth pressed into a thin line, her earlier friendliness disappearing.
Clearly, she didn’t want to be caught in the middle of whatever was happening, and she wasn’t wrong. She had no idea what she just stepped into it, but she might soon enough.
A muscle twitched in Milo’s jaw, and he looked like he was barely controlling himself, keeping a litany of words back, barbed wire and sharp, with the intended bullseye standing just within reach.
Yet, he knew Milo wouldn’t say anything in front of Olive, a virtual stranger.
“That wasn’t necessary, Julian,” Milo emphasized, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sure Olive could’ve managed on her own. She’s quite the capable woman, you know.”
His words implied an intimacy that wasn’t there especially if the baffled look on Olive’s face was any indication. Based on her own version of events, they’d only just met yesterday, and for a business transaction, not anything else, so he was just trying to get under Julian’s skin, indicating that there was more to the story than a preface.
“Of course she is,” Julian agreed, shooting Olive a long look. “That doesn’t mean I can’t step in and help her. It’s what I was raised to do, you know.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed into slits. “So was I.”
Okay, so he was obviously getting under Milo’s skin, and a part of him knew that he should quit while he was ahead, cut his losses and just accept defeat, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, taking a distinct amount of pleasure in goading him; a good sparring partner was hard to come by after all.
“You’ve both been very helpful,” Olive added, confused.
“Thank you, Olive. However, I have to admit that my intentions aren’t entirely pure,” Julian admitted, noticing the way her brows furrowed together. She tilted her head to the side, confusion written all over her features.
If she was puzzled before, she was downright baffled now, having no idea how to respond to that comment.
“No?” Olive asked, hesitantly.
“No. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and when I saw you in front of me, I knew I had to talk to you, spend as much time with you as I could,” Julian admitted, honestly.
A cliché, but one that was true nonetheless.
Julian was a bit of a romantic, but life had dampened it, trying too many times to beat it out of him, to the extent where he no longer knew whether or not he should act on his emotions, especially not when it led to nothing but heartache.
Olive seemed different, the kind of woman who would appreciate the sincerity, and she was the first woman in a long time to make him feel something other than desire.
In him, she had awakened a deep longing, insatiable and deep, and she seemed to be the key to figure it all out, standing before him in the flesh, if she accepted.
There he went again, waxing poetic.
“Er, thank you,” Olive replied, awkwardly.
It was clear she was uncomfortable with the attention they were lavishing on her, but she was doing her best to handle it with grace and dignity, drawing herself up and straightening her back. “That’s very sweet of you, Julian.”
It was clear his words had moved her, perhaps stirring a similar longing in her, but she said nothing, turning her attention to her back. Quietly, she rummaged around for something, producing a small package neatly wrapped.
Eagerly, she thrust it into Milo’s hand who took it, looking slightly dazed and annoyed. Slowly, Milo turned around and picked up a check, handing it to her with a small smile.
“Thanks,” Olive answered, tucking the check into her bag. “It was nice to meet you both.”
And weird, he added silently, reading her like an open book.
Without another word, she spun on her heel and left, no doubt muttering to herself about the whole encounter, and the two men who were comparing dicks, engaging in a pissing contest over a woman t
hey barely knew.
Yes, it wasn’t a typical morning that was for sure.
And here Julian thought it was going to be another boring day. He was glad to be wrong because it looked like they were in for an interesting day. Milo’s mouth clamped shut, and his hands clenched into fists at his side, unhappy with the way things turned out.
Clearly, Julian had interrupted something, some kind of plan he had.
With Olive gone, there was no need to hold back, and the tension between them escalated, filling up the spacious room, even the small corners where nothing hid. Julian shoved his hands in his pockets and straightened his back, refusing to be the first to step down.
He knew that a man like Milo was used to getting his way, whether it was through scare tactics, persuasion or plain charisma. Yes, he’d seen the CEO use all three interchangeable.
To be fair, he wasn’t a crooked businessman, even though his intimidation techniques weren’t exactly by the book, but he never alluded to anything dangerous, just enough to make sure that whoever got into business with them kept their noses clean, making it abundantly obvious that he had no intention of getting his hands dirty, or dragging his company’s reputation through the mud.
Not for anyone.
And if it meant lighting a fire under people’s ass then so be it.
Sometimes, it had to be like this, flexing his muscles to show that he had a tight grip on the reins and wasn’t about to let go anytime soon. Still, it was interesting to watch Milo size him up, eyeing him as a potential competitor in a different way.
Never before had they competed for a woman.
Their silent standoff continued, a plethora of words moving back and forth between them at lighting speed, they quite punctuated with things they weren’t saying, the subtle shift in the air palpable and thick.
Julian shifted from one foot to the other, never taking his eyes off of Milo whose shoulders eventually sagged, his eyes blinking rapidly. He rubbed his hands over his face, his mouth pressing into a thin line.
Blazing: A Billionaire Boys MFM Menage novel Page 3