Page 89 of The Temporary Fiancée
“For what?”
“For turning this from a nightmare into something great.”
He puts his hand on my waist and leans down to kiss me. I stand on my toes to meet him, and delight in the softness of his lips, the touch of his fingers as they brush my face.
Chapter 20
Reed
My alarm wakesme up early the next morning—early enough that the sky is still somewhat dark, the light not yet reaching its way through my curtains. For a few moments, I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling, and think about last night.
I had a great time with Olivia, of course. She was as delightful as ever. After we walked out of the restaurant, we wandered the streets of the city for hours until we came upon Central Park, stopping every now and then for a kiss.
But dinner with my family is still weighing on my mind. I’m still pissed at my parents, despite Olivia’s patience with the whole situation.
That dinner didn’t have to go so far off the rails. My father and I have always had a contentious relationship—I never thought to question it too much. I figured we just had opposing personalities, or something. Some people can’t help but argue, right?
When his shitty comments are directed atOlivia,though… Olivia, instead of me… it’s impossible to ignore him. All night, he kept stoking my instincts to defend her; I couldn’t wave his stupid insults away, no matter how hard I tried.
And I really,reallytried.
I climb out of bed and stretch, then shuffle into the bathroom and turn on the shower. As the hot water pours over my head, I try to picture it rinsing away everything that happened last night.
I’m sure there will be consequences with my father. I’m sure that our relationship will be even worse now.
But in the meantime, I don’t feel like worrying over it. I have enough on my plate as it is.
I take a quick shower, dress myself, then head out into the hallway. The smell of fresh coffee wafts from the kitchen.
I can hear the sound of Olivia’s shower running; she must be in there right now, but it looks like she’s already brewed a fresh pot of coffee. She left a little pink sticky note on the counter next to the coffee machine.
Have a great day today!Hope this helps you get a good start.
Olivia
Despite the thoughtsof my argument with my father still weighing on my mind, I can’t help but smile. Like all of her other notes, it’s weirdly cute.
I pluck the sticky note from the counter and tuck it into my pocket. I’ve been forming a collection of them at work, where they live in the top drawer of my desk.
I pour my coffee into a travel thermos so that I can make a stop before I get to the office today. There’s one thing that happened last night that’s within my power to fix, at the very least, and I’m determined to make it happen—but I still don’t want to arrive late to work, or the fight with my father will only get worse.
I head out before Olivia gets out of the shower, cup of coffee in hand.
On my way to Eastwood’s headquarters, I ask my driver to stop at one of the retailers on Fifth. I want to get a new coat for Olivia.
She was cold last night, and the air is getting more and more crisp each day. Fall is here, and I don’t think she has a good winter jacket. The only coat I’ve seen her wear is a light summer jacket, at best.
Besides, my wife-to-be should be decked out in comfort and luxury. Normally, I’d get one of my assistants to pick something out and send it back to the penthouse; it’s how I generally go about gifting. My time is extremely limited, so even if I want to do something thoughtful, I often don’t have space in my schedule.
But it needs to be different with Olivia. I don’t like the idea of handing off a task so personal. Just like with the engagement ring, something about giving my fiancé gifts feels too intimate to be delegated, whether the engagement is fake or not.
A store assistant approaches me, smiling brightly. “Hello, sir. Do you need any help?”
“I’m just looking for a good winter jacket,” I say. “Something warm, but still stylish.”
The employee nods and gestures to a rack toward the front. “The newest selection is up there. If you need anything, feel free to ask.”
“Thank you.” I head toward the rack and sift through different jackets. I end up choosing a black one that’s thigh-length, lined with a soft, touchable fleece. It’s got to be the warmest one here, but it’s still fashionable.
