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A short laugh cuts through me. It’s exactly what I needed to hear.
“Thanks, man. I promise to maintain my tradition of overtipping.”
“My wallet and I thank you.”
Nate finishes up my drink, and I take a long sip from the glass, enjoying the way the gin burns down my throat.
We chat a bit more, but then Nate has to attend to his other customers, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.
They keep coming back to Liv, and they’re split between fantasizing and reprimanding myself. I’m practically twice her age and in a position of power over her. And I don’t just mean that in a fun way.
I’m her boss, for fuck’s sake, responsible for her income and doling out orders. I’m best fucking friends with her dad.
Hell, I’ve known the guy for years and somehow managed to completely miss how attractive his daughter is.
I’m also circling. I’ve had this discussion with myself before, and I keep finding myself in the same damn position.
I cannot be doing this. Her dad brought me out of the worst depression of my life, and how am I thanking him? By fucking his child.
His absolutely stunning, charming, infuriating, and deliciously bratty kid.
Who, of course, is not a kid. Liv’s twenty-five. She’s an adult and capable of making her own decisions.
But that thought is just me trying to find some excuse for wanting nothing more than to claim Liv in every way she’ll let me.
One thing at a time, though, right? I need to settle the Hawaii job, and if I can just focus on that, maybe the whole thing will resolve itself.
I catch my reflection in the mirror behind the bottles on the back wall of the bar. The marbled-like appearance creates a pattern of gold that swirls through the reflective surface and dims the light bouncing off it.
Even through all that, I meet my eyes, staring at my image like I’m looking for proof of my conviction in this mirror version of myself.
Maintaining eye contact with the reflection, I shake my head.
“Yeah. Sure it will.”
I get up from my stool, finishing my drink in one swig. Laying down a sizable tip for the best bartender on the planet, I swipe my phone from the bar and find five text messages from Natasha and three unanswered emails from Dwight and Mark.
Walking to my car, I sit down and start the engine, staring blankly ahead of me as another text buzzes through my phone.
I squeeze the steering wheel tight, my knuckles going white. I check the message, assuming it’s going to be from Natasha again.
It’s not.
It’s from Liv.
Be careful. It’s supposed to rain, and you know how people drive in this town.
I send back a thanks and start up my car, pulling out of the parking lot as it starts to drizzle and a crack of lightning streaks through the sky.
Chapter 15
Olivia
When Noah gets home, it’s like a tornado has touched down in the house. I’m used to distracted greetings and fathers being guilty of bringing their work home with them, but this is something else.
While he isn’t on the phone this time, his answers to anything Elijah or I ask come in the form of single-word sentences and subtle head shakes.
Noah is tight-lipped and stoic, but I can feel the bad mood radiating off him. And he keeps moving, never staying in the same room with me for long unless Elijah is there.
