“It is dumb.”
“Okay, well it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”
“Really? Maybe he had an errand. Maybe he was hungry and went out for pizza. Why are you reading so much in…” Cressida trailed off as she studied me, taking another sip of wine. She blinked a few times, then pursed her lips and shot me an accusatory look.
“You like him!” she announced, pointing a sugary finger at me.
“No I don’t!” I scrambled back away from my friend, as if it would help me escape her realization.
“Elizabeth Barbara Paulson,” she enunciated. “You could make excuses for Satan himself if you had a crush on him.”
Her eyes were narrowed and focused on me. I dropped my gaze meekly.
“I haven’t picked out matching tombstones or anything, but I will admit I am attracted to him. Maybe it’s more just that I’m curious…”
She shook her head. “Oh no you don’t,” she said. “You’ve imprinted on him like a sad baby duckling. Or like that guy you met in freshman year who used to call you by the wrong name during sex.”
“He had a good personality!” I defended. “And I’m still not convinced it was his fault.”
“Elizabeth is one of the most common names there is!” she returned. “The damn queen is named Elizabeth. How was it fair that I had to listen to him moan the name ‘Lisa’ through the wall?”
“I think maybe it was just a short form. You know… Elizabeth… Eliza… Liza… Lisa… I mean, it’s possible. Anyway, he also used to spend his Sundays handing out sandwiches to homeless youth, so I didn’t think he was that bad. At least at first… And need I remind you that as soon as he started to check in on me like a creepy stalker, I was out of there.”
We entered into a staring match, both of us refusing to budge an inch. I took another sip of my wine unhurriedly, showing her that I could be here for a while. I’d faced tougher foes than her.
I’d faced Oliver Bentley.
“Liz,” she said after a while, voice soft. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t,” I said.
“You already have though,” she pointed out. Her eyes swept over me, as if assessing the damage. “Just be careful. Remember Phillip.”
“Patrick,” I corrected.
“What?”
“The guy who called me the wrong name was Patrick.”
She grinned evilly and winked. “I know.”
I tried to take Cressida’s concern to heart, but I still felt like I had to apologize to Oliver. Whether he left because he felt bad or not, I still felt bad. The next morning, I started looking for him as soon as I got to the mansion.
But I couldn’t find anyone.
“Hello?” I called.
I walked down the east hall toward the kitchen, thinking it was as good a place to start as any. That’s when I began to hear voices. Lots of voices. With the work on that room already complete, there wasn’t any reason for any of the workers to be in the kitchen.
I stepped through the archway and my eyes bulged. Perched on top of the island was the biggest continental platter I’d ever seen. Muffins, pastries, bagels, cinnamon buns, and fruit were piled up like a real life food pyramid—sans meat and vegetables. Next to it stood two giant carafes of coffee and a tower of paper cups.
I spotted Rodney near the fridge, and squeezed through the crowd of workers to get to him. “What is this?” I asked.
Like everyone else in the room, Rodney had a paper plate loaded up with food. I wondered how big the food pyramid had been before I got there.
“I think your boss feels bad for whatever happened between you guys yesterday,” Rodney said with a grin.
I glanced around to see if I could spot Oliver. Nada.
“Did he say something?” I asked.
Rodney shook his head, sending crumbs flying in either direction. “Haven’t even seen him. I think he’s in his study.” He pointed to the spread. “Delivery guy brought all this in. Said it was a gift for all the hard work we’ve done.”
My heart raced in my chest. This was big. Maybe not biggie big, but it meant that Oliver wasn’t completely soulless like Cressida seemed to think. But I reined myself in, reminding myself that just because he bought some croissants, didn’t mean he gave two shits about me or anyone else here. But it did make me curious. Was there more to him, as I’d suspected? Did he have some sort of a heart after all?
I had to find out.
“I’m gonna go find him.”
Rodney’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you going to have some food?”
I knew Cress would have probably dived into the platter face first, but I was feeling too antsy to eat. I needed some answers. And I had an apology to deliver.
“I’ll get some later,” I replied. Then I smiled. “If there’s any left.”
Rodney waved me off and I headed off to Oliver’s office. As usual, the door was closed. I knocked and hoped to god it wouldn’t be a repeat of yesterday.
“Come in,” he called.
Surprised at how quickly he responded, I entered, a friendly smile plastered on my face.
“Close the door behind you,” he instructed without looking up from his computer. He was at his desk, as always. And he was looking fine, as always. His chocolate hair was still a little damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. Oddly enough, he was wearing a t-shirt.
“No suit today?” I asked, pressing the door closed.
He looked down at his shirt as if noticing for the first time it was there. Then he looked up at me and smiled, closing his laptop. It was a pained smile. I wished I hadn’t spoken at all.
“No point in wearing a suit,” he said. He left it at that though, and I didn’t want to press further.
I approached the desk, noting his glasses off to one side. I was almost certain he didn’t like people to see him wearing them.
“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” I began. “The way I acted was unprofessional. I should never have barged in on you.”
Oliver rolled back in his chair, then rose. It reminded me of the way he’d gotten up to crowd me yesterday. The memory of that was strong, but surprisingly not as unpleasant as it should have been. I felt guilty for that too. What would Cressida think if she knew how turned on I’d gotten just from the heightened emotions and him being so close to me?
“I would like to apologize too.” Oliver rounded the desk, coming to stand before me. He kept his distance though, much to my guilty chagrin. “I spoke completely out of turn and I was unfair.”
“I’m gonna be honest,” I said, after a moment of shocked silence. “I never thought I’d see the day I got an apology from you.”
Oliver grinned. “Me neither.”
I’d never really gotten a look at Oliver’s physique, since we’d been almost fully clothed when we had sex, and he’d been covered in suits almost exclusively since then. His t-shirt was much more revealing, and I kept having to remind myself not to stare at his bulging biceps.
I can’t help that they’re directly in my sight line…
“I have another first that I think we should try,” Oliver said.
My eyes snapped to his face, pulse suddenly pounding in anticipation. He wasn’t making his sexy eyes though.
I shouldn’t have been disappointed.
I was.
“What would that be?”
“How about a truce?” he asked.
“A truce?”
“Like a ceasefire,” he said. “Armistice.”
I shook my head. “No, I know what a truce is.” A wry smile tugging at the ends of my lips. “I guess I just…”
“Didn’t think I’d ever suggest one?”
I nodded.
Oliver’s grin widened. “Like I said. More firsts.” He turned to the side and leaned against the desk, studying me. “I would also like you to bring back the furniture I returned. I was wrong to send it back so hastily. You’re a good designer, and I should have trusted your instincts over
my own.”
That completely blindsided me.
“Thank you,” I mumbled.
After craving his approval for so long, I was drunk on it. A smile washed over my face like the rising tide. I could have kissed him, I was so happy.
And with the thought of kissing him at the front of my mind, I’d officially come full circle to how goddamn attractive he was.
Don’t stare at his arms. Don’t stare at his arms. Don’t stare at his arms.
“Did you like the spread I ordered out there?” Oliver asked.
It had been an apology!
“I think everyone liked it,” I nodded. “Thank you. It means a lot to them.”
“Sure,” he said. “But did it mean anything to you?”
In my head, Cressida gave me a stern look. No, it didn’t mean anything to you. You’re indifferent. It was just a cheap bribe which barely even begins to make up for what an ass he’s been.
But Cressida wasn’t here.
“Yeah,” I said. “It meant a lot to me too.”
Oliver pushed off from the desk, striding back around to his chair and sinking down. “Good.”
When he said nothing else and flipped his laptop back open, I took that as my cue to leave.
Baby steps.
I reached the door and was about to slip through when he called out. “Oh, and Elizabeth?”
I turned. “Yes?”
His eyes were still cast downward toward the screen. “You were right about the kitchen.”
My eyes practically bulged from my head. He delivered the line with such nonchalance that he may as well have just told me it was raining outside, but I knew it was a big deal.
“Thanks,” I replied, slipping from the room.
Despite that being such a big deal, it was important for me not to make a big deal of it. At least not outwardly. But that didn’t stop me from running to the nearest bathroom, locking the door, and having a dance party for one inside.
You were right about the kitchen.
Those six little words meant more to me than any pastry platter ever could.
Chapter 19
Oliver
I wasn’t in much of a party mood, but Damien insisted I needed to start planning now if I wanted to have everything ready by the time the renovations were done. It had been all he talked about last night over drinks once we’d established that I wasn’t interested in talking anymore about my grandfather’s affairs or my pesky designer.
Damien preferred the party as a topic, anyway. He said it would give me something to do now that I’d come up empty handed on my fool’s errand of single-handedly examining all of my grandfather’s contracts.
I reminded him again that we weren’t talking about it. Things went a bit smoother from there.
With little else to do, I dove into the preparations. I could have just hired a party planner, but then what would I do with my time?
Somehow, I ended up looking at rustic wedding décor on Pinterest, even though I wasn’t having a wedding and I definitely wasn’t going rustic with my decorations. I don’t even know how I got there.
Luckily, I was saved by somebody knocking on my door. Hoping it was Todd, I called for them to come in.
It wasn’t Todd.
I hurriedly removed my glasses and welcomed Elizabeth. “What can I help you with?”
She strode toward me, looking happier than I’d seen her in days. Then again, I hadn’t seen much of her since we exchanged apologies several days earlier. I was starting to wonder if she was avoiding me.
“I got the furniture back from the shipping company,” she announced.
“The ones…?” I trailed off. Despite our truce, I wasn’t sure how touchy the subject still was. She didn’t make me finish.
“Yep. Those ones.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Congratulations?”
Did she think us settling on a truce meant she could dangle her victories in front of me now? That didn’t seem very sportsmanlike.
She must have read my expression. “No!” she said, immediately flushing. She hurriedly stepped over to my desk. “I wasn’t trying to rub it in your face or anything. I-I just…wanted to get your opinion on the finished product. The drawing room is done.”
I carefully shut the lid of my laptop. “My opinion?”
She nodded.
Well, it’s either that or rustic wedding photos.
“I suppose I could take a moment to have a look,” I replied. Coming to my feet, I straightened the wrinkles in my t-shirt. If I wasn’t going to need to wear a suit, I had to get used to casual clothes. If I was never going to work in an office, there was no point in being all dressed up all the time. Wearing them at home just continued to remind me of my failure.
“Lead the way,” I gestured toward the door.
I half expected Elizabeth to point out that I knew my way around my house better than she did, but I guess she was doing her part at honoring our truce and avoiding snarky comments.
The drawing room was just as she described it to be. A fluffy white carpet lay across the dark hardwood, and on top of that the two couches I’d tossed away in a fit of disgust sat across from each other.
“They don’t look horrible,” I commented.
Elizabeth practically beamed. “And the colors. What do you think of the colors?”
I looked around the room. The walls, a light lilac, seemed to come to life from the sunlight that filtered through the gauzy curtains. White wainscoting and a silver set of antlers on the wall completed the look.
“It does look a tad modern, though.”
Elizabeth shifted uneasily from foot to foot. “I know, but hear me out.” She gestured for me to sit.
I shot a skeptical look at the couch closest to me and perched on the edge of it. It wasn’t particularly comfortable. Elizabeth sat across from me.
“I’m making the whole mansion look elegant and classic, just like you requested,” she said. “But I wanted there to be one room that stood out as something a little different.”
“Shouldn’t you have just kept with the same design for the sake of uniformity?”
She worried at her bottom lip. It was entrancing.
“Some would argue that, certainly,” she replied. “But I personally believe you’ll get more use out of it this way. And I think it suits your personality.”
I paused for a moment while I decided which curious statement to question first.
Ever the narcissist, I started with the personality aspect. “Do tell me how this fits in with my personality.” I relaxed further against the stony sofa, my lip twitching into a small smirk.
Elizabeth’s eyes dropped away from mine. “It’s just as I said. Most of the time you’re elegant, old school. But there’s a very modern side of you. I wouldn’t even say it’s a side.” She furrowed her brow in thought, staring pointedly at the rug. “It’s like you’re the house, but inside out.”
“Come again?”
“So, this house is all old world for the most part, with this one small room off to the side that’s modern,” she replied. Her eyes came back up to meet mine. They seemed almost green when surrounded by so much purple. “Whereas you’re modern on the outside, with this inner core of refinement and class.”
I snorted. “I’m surprised you think so highly of me,” I said. “I would have thought any house you designed to be like me would have one room completely filled with garbage.”
Elizabeth tipped back her head and laughed. When she looked back at me, her eyes were sparkling.
“There could be a room filled with garbage still,” she said cheekily. “There are lots of rooms in the house you don’t use. You might never know.”
“I’m going to have to check them all now.”
“You probably should anyway,” she replied. “Who knows what could be up there.”
“They never did find my grandfather’s body,” I said wistfully.
Elizabeth laughed. I kept my expression stony. Within f
ive seconds her face had gone pale, her mouth aghast.
“You’re not serious,” she tested.
I didn’t react.
“Are you?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re not.”
I broke down into laughter. She glared at me as I bent over, my sides aching. I hadn’t laughed so long and hard in a long time. It wasn’t even that funny, but it felt so good to let it out that I continued. And then Elizabeth started laughing, and we both dissolved into complete fools on the ugliest couches I’d ever seen.
Dirty Jock Page 37
