Exposed by Fate (Serve #2)(53)

If she looked down, she was pretty sure her skin would be crawling. The part of her she’d almost left bleeding on the floor in Oliver’s apartment wanted to turn and storm out. Dive into her car and drive home where she could mourn the last few days in peace. She was surprised to find, though, that there was another part of her. A new addition that hadn’t been there before. Confidence bubbled inside her like the contents of a cauldron. She heard Oliver’s voice, back before he’d tossed her out of his apartment.

You’re incredibly brave.

You were spectacular. I’ve never seen anything half as beautiful as you were. As you are.

She thought of how Oliver shook underneath her hands. The hoarse sounds he made every time they kissed. His hand holding hers so tightly in the cab. I’m really glad you’re here.

Dammit. It was painful to think about, but imbued her with self-assurance at the same time. Oliver might not want her forever, not like she wanted him. But he’d done exactly as he’d set out to do. Exactly as she’d asked him to do. He’d brought to life a new, stronger side of her. A side that didn’t take shit from dick-sticks like Conrad Sterns.

“Listen to me. I am good at what I do. No, I’m excellent. That is what you’re getting out of this deal. Believe me, it’s quite enough for putting up with you.” She dug her nails into her palm. “Oliver and I don’t come as a package. If you want entrée into classier social circles, then learn how to deserve it. If you want your home not to look like a replica of the house from Scarface, because it really does, you need to give me a tour of where I’ll be working for the next six months.”

Her words hung in their air for tense seconds wherein she swore he was gearing up to throw her out. His face had gone red, but she couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment or anger. Finally, Conrad pushed off the table. “Should we start with the kitchen?”

“Yes,” she answered, leading the way. Having memorized his floor plan, she knew exactly where it was. The sooner she dazzled Conrad with her ideas, the quicker she could go find Oliver. After everything they had been through together, she couldn’t allow the rift to remain. Losing him completely would kill her. There was simply no choice.

She was going to tell him she loved him.

And maybe, just maybe, her words would unlock something inside him. Something that allowed him to love her back. He had to feel something for her or this yearning inside her wouldn’t go so deep, right? She had to know.





Chapter Twenty-Two


Oliver stared at the screen of his computer, wondering how long he could pull off this charade. He’d been sitting in this same position for three hours, watching emails multiply in his inbox, hearing his phone ring, but none of it felt real. The only thing that had ever felt real was gone. No, not gone. Thrown out. He’d thrown Eliza out of his apartment. Shouted at her to leave, with the full knowledge she’d rip him to shreds the second she set foot outside.

He’d asked for too much. He could see that now. Starting slow hadn’t seemed like an option after what they’d shared, but he should have been happy with his sliver of progress. When she’d looked up at him and said, what if I don’t want it to be over, his moronic ass had heard wedding bells. His sister had shown up and he’d thought, there’s no better time than the present to come clean, reveal they were together. Eliza’s rejection of that fantasy had snuffed out his overwhelming hope, locked it up again when it had only just broken free. He’d still been reeling from making love to her, experiencing the kind of euphoria he’d never thought existed. He hadn’t been able to withstand being shut down on the heels of it. So he’d stood there and let her take it on the chin, when he should have been standing behind her, defending every goddamn perfect minute of time they’d spent together. Right when she’d needed him most, he’d stood by and piled even more shit on top of her.

If she didn’t hate his guts, he would be eternally shocked. All she’d ever done was follow the rules. He’d been the one to fall in love with someone he didn’t deserve. Now she was suffering under the weight of his sister’s rightful disapproval…and him? He couldn’t see past the next minute ticking by on his computer’s clock. If he thought even two minutes ahead, he’d start pounding his head against the desk, not stopping until sweet unconsciousness took over. He’d been counting on his old pal, unconsciousness for the last two nights, drinking himself into a stupor and attempting to find her scent somewhere in his apartment. Ripping off his bed sheets and wrapping them around his body, searching every inch of it for her sweetness. It was fading so fast. Too fast.

God, what was she doing? Where was she? Today was…Friday? His right eye started to tick. She had her in house meeting with Sterns today. Jesus, he felt like throwing up, but that would require him to move, and he needed to stay perfectly still or he’d dissolve. The only thing he’d forced himself to accomplish since she’d left on Wednesday had been to drop the paperwork off at Columbia for Frankie’s scholarship. At least he hadn’t failed at everything.

Someone walked into his office but he didn’t have the energy to look up and learn their identity. He didn’t give a shit who it was, be it Santa Clause or the President. Or both. They could take a f*cking number. His sister had come in every hour on the hour, saying words and trying to force him to think, but he’d managed to block her out. He’d created an invisible barrier around him that hummed like a light saber, even if he was the only one who could hear it.