Today has been fucking stressful.
The Manchester deal might have fallen through, but now that everyone and their mother has realized I am expanding into Europe, my phone hasn’t stopped ringing. Every hungry real estate agent is trying to sell me land. They all know how much money the Lancasters have, and every person I have ever met is crawling out of the woodwork to sell it to me. Normally, I wouldn’t meet with anyone I haven’t done business with, but with Grant sniffing around Addison, I can’t afford to not. So I have sat through meetings, presentations, and pitches demonstrating why I should buy, but after the last property disaster, I’m more cautious, careful.
As I sit back in my chair pursuing a property in Croatia, my stomach growls. Shit, have I eaten today? No, I haven’t. I grab my phone off the desk.
Me: Have dinner with me.
Olivia: Can’t.
Me: What are you doing?
Olivia: Errands.
Me: So, stop and meet me.
Olivia: No can do. Sorry, but I can come over after.
I look at the phone, my eyes narrowing. This is the third time in the last two weeks she’s blown me off for dinner.
Me: You have to eat, Olivia.
Olivia: I will, Spencer.
I don’t need to be near Olivia to know she’s pissed that I’m on her case. I drop it.
Me: I’ll be home. Come when you’re done.
Olivia: Okay.
Something is off with her. I just can’t pinpoint what it is.
Walking out of my corporate office, I head to the front of the building where my driver is waiting. Most would think my office would be in the hotel, but as we have a downtown hotel and so many other properties, most of our day-to-day business dealings for all the properties are handled at our Park Avenue building.
It’s after seven o’clock when I finally make it to the hotel and up the private elevator. When I step inside, I see Olivia is already there, curled up on the couch. My butler must have let her in. A throw blanket covers her as she drinks a glass of the rosé I started stocking the moment I realized she liked it.
“I like seeing you on my couch when I come home from work.” As the words slip out of my mouth, I realize how true they are. I do like having her here, lying curled up on the couch, a minute away from falling asleep. God, I have it bad.
Her eyes dart open with surprise, and then her lips turn up into a smile. “I like being here when you get home.”
Silence hangs in the air with this admission.
I take a step closer. When I’m standing in front of the couch, I look down at her and then take a seat.
“I missed you,” she whispers as she climbs in my lap.
“I missed you, too.” Leaning forward, I brush my lips against hers. “It’s been too long,” I say against her mouth. “How was work?”
I feel her stiffen. “Just working hard. Nothing to tell. Trying to make the big bucks. Got to have some money to spoil my boyfriend.”
“You don’t have to buy me anything or pay for anything, Olivia.”
“Maybe I want to.”
“Why are you working so hard?” When she doesn’t answer, I pull back and notice she’s nibbling on her lower lip.
“I just . . . Well, I guess since my parents didn’t want me to do this, and then after losing the last job, I suppose I want to succeed.”
“You don’t have to prove anything.” The hypocrisy of my words tastes bitter on my tongue. I work harder than anyone I know and for what? To prove something. But it doesn’t matter. This is Olivia, not me. I don’t like seeing her like this.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Can we talk about something else? We haven’t seen each other in days. Or maybe we don’t have to talk at all.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Let me show you.” She lifts her body off me, but only enough to arrange her hands on my waist and lower the zipper to my slacks. Leaning back, I close my eyes and wait for the pleasure of Olivia’s mouth. Once engulfed, I can’t think of anything but the pleasure she brings.
When I feel myself getting closer to release. I place my hand on her shoulder. “Stop,” I pant, barely holding on. “Need to be inside you.” She lifts off me. “Clothes. Off. Now.” If I’m not inside her this minute, I might die. She makes quick work of her clothes. My breath leaves my body, but not in a good way.
“What the fuck?” I run my gaze up the length of her body, from her collarbone jutting out to the bones protruding from her hips. How have I not noticed this? How have I not seen how skinny she’s become? Anger flares inside me, but not at her. At me. I was so busy working, I never saw what was happening. But now it all makes sense. She hasn’t eaten with me in weeks. Not since she started modeling again.
“Are you eating?”
“Of course I’m eating.”
“Then how do you explain your hipbones sticking out?”
“I’m eating,” she hisses as she works to throw on her clothes.
“What are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
“So, that’s it? I ask you a question you don’t like and you leave?”
“Don’t like it, do you?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’ve been in a mood ever since we’ve been back home. You never talk to me. Never tell me anything.”
“That’s different.”
Now dressed, Olivia places her hands on her hips. “How is it different?” she asks before pursing her lips.
“That’s business. And this . . .” I place a hand on her collar. “This is your health, Olivia. I care about you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
“I’m not. I’m just eating healthy and working out.”
“That’s it?”
She furrows her brow and then takes a deep breath. “Yes, that’s it,” she whispers, biting her lip. She looks as if she’s about to cry. The sight breaks me.
“Come here.” Olivia steps into my arms. “I care about you. If you ever need—”
“I’m fine.”
Despite my better judgment, I let it rest. The last thing I want is to rock the boat again.