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“We had sex last night in the shower. That’s not the issue,” I whispered back, feeling a mix of frustration and amusement. The truth was, I was cranky this morning. My period was still two days from ending, and not having the freedom to make love wherever we wanted was adding to my irritation.
I turned to look out the window, watching the shoulder of the highway blur by. Oliver curled his hand around mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I smiled a little, though he couldn’t see it since I was facing the glass.
The ride continued in silence, punctuated only by the hum of the engine and the occasional murmur from the security team. As we neared the site, my anxiety began to ebb, replaced by a growing determination. This project was crucial, and I was ready to prove myself.
Oliver’s hand tightened around mine, pulling me back from my thoughts. “We’ve got this,” he said softly, his confidence steadying me.
I nodded, squeezing his hand back. Together, we were unstoppable.
A half-hour later, we arrived at the job site. The limo rolled into the cracked concrete parking lot, drawing the attention of a group of men. They waited as our security team exited first. I was the last to step out, following Oliver as he led me toward the men, all dressed in nearly identical navy-blue striped suits, white shirts, and various red ties.
Two of the men were young, probably a year or two younger than Finley’s age of twenty-seven. Their eyes lingered on me a bit too long, but Oliver, a few steps ahead, didn’t notice. When we reached the group, introductions were made, and handshakes exchanged.
The men were all related: James and Callan Ryder, the older men, were brothers, and Dillon and Rick, the younger ones, were their sons. Oliver took the lead with James and Callan, discussing business details, leaving me with Dillon and Rick. They quickly engaged me in conversation.
“Are you enjoying Los Angeles?” Rick asked, his eyes studying me.
“It’s nice. The weather’s cooler in New York, so I welcome the heat,” I replied, offering a polite smile.
“It can get pretty hot here during September. Have you had a chance to see the city?” Dillon inquired, his tone friendly.
“Not really. We just arrived yesterday evening.”
“You should come out with us, leave the old guys to handle the details,” Rick suggested with a playful grin.
“Oliver isn’t old,” I retorted, a touch defensively.
“He’s older than us and much older than you. He’s your boss. You don’t want to hang out with him. Come out with us tonight. We’ll show you a good time.”
Dillon chimed in, eager to back up Rick’s offer. “Yeah, you’ll have a blast with us.”
I could just imagine what kind of "good time" they had in mind—probably getting me drunk and trying to take me to bed.
“No, thank you,” I said politely even though I was seething.
Rick smirked. “What are you going to do, sit around your hotel room all night?”
“First off, I’m engaged,” I said, holding up my hand, the diamond ring glinting in the sunlight.
Dillion snorted. “So? Does that mean you’re strapped to your fiancé? You have a mind of your own, don’t you?”
“You didn’t let me finish. Second of all, that old guy talking with your fathers is my fiancé, and I’d rather spend my night in the hotel with him. Thank you for the offer.”
I left them standing there, jaws agape. What a couple of assholes. They reminded me of the entitled guys I’d encountered at Columbia, used to getting everything they wanted. I stuck close to Oliver, absorbing everything he said to James and Callan.
When it was time to leave, I gave a curt goodbye to the men and slipped into the limo, where our security team was already seated. As the limo pulled away, I stared out the window, trying to shake off my irritation.
“That was rude,” Oliver said, breaking the silence.
“Rude how?” I asked, genuinely puzzled.
“You could’ve offered your hand.”
“Not to those assholes,” I hissed.
His brow furrowed. “James and Callan? You know them?”
“No, their sons. They called you old and wanted to take me to a club, probably to get me drunk and have sex.”
