“You read too many romance books. And seriously, that never works out in the end. It always gets messy,” I remind her because I happen to read the same books she does.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “But the sex is fucking phenomenal in the meantime.”
I tap my tea to hers. “Cheers to that. I haven’t had phenomenal sex in so long.”
“Same, sister,” Serena laments, sadness lingering in her voice. “Sounds like you need to take one for the team and sex it up for the both of us.”
“Not sure that’s how it works, goofball.” Not that the idea of sexing up Logan Adler isn’t incredibly tempting. Especially if I could get him to keep his mouth shut while we were naked.
“Come on, Livvy. You’ve got a hockey hottie husband that I’ll bet you every last penny in my trust fund is great in bed. Pretty sure you owe it to womankind to take him for a spin.” She barely gets the last words out before her chest shakes with laughter. “I mean, you’d be doing it for the sisterhood.”
“Sweet baby Jesus. You have got to get out of the house more often,” I tease, laughing with her.
Serena presses her head to mine. “Miss having you at home.”
“Same. But I’ll be back when this is done.”
“Sure you will, Livvy. Sure you will.”
“Olivia.” Peter’s voice fights the torrential rain pounding against my car as my Bluetooth connects while I exit the turnpike, so unbelievably ready for this day to be over that if I could transport myself to the Triple Crown Ranch, it would still take too damn long. “I was hoping to reach you before you left the office today.”
“Sorry, Peter. I left a bit ago. I’m not feeling the greatest. What’s going on?”
What’s going onis my standard question. It covers everything. Is something happening with the firm? With one of my players? With something not even on my radar yet?Basically,tell me what the fuck you need and let me handle it the way you’ve trusted me to do since I joined this firmbut with a slightly nicer spin.
“I was hoping to check in with you. What’s the status update for Ryker Beneventi?” I can tell by his clipped tone this is the first of a checklist of questions.
Bring it on, Pete. I can do this all day.
“The police haven’t officially dropped charges yet, but I have it on good authority they will be soon.” He doesn’t need to know who the authority is. I have my ways and my contacts. No need to share them with the partners. “The wedding is taking place at the end of this month, and I believe the league will have completely cleared him by then as well. He hasn’t lost a single sponsor yet. Emphasis on yet. We need to continue to play this like a fucking symphony, every string in tune, for everything to go our way. But I’m positive we can and will, and by this time next month, Ryker’s life and profile will be back to normal and thriving.” My chest warms with pride. This might be my favorite aspect of my job. Fixing things for my clients. Not that I’ll ever tell them that. “Next question.”
The shark in a bespoke suit chuckles. “You do know me well, Olivia. So tell me, how are things looking for your husband’s custody case, hmm? I haven’t spoken to him recently. I assumed you’d keep me looped into all I needed to know.”
The asshole.
Logan is my husband. Not my job. Yet Peter is getting paid to do a job.Hisjob.
So he should fucking do it.
And still, that juicy carrot dangles just out of reach while more work for the same pay, title, and recognition continues to pile up on my desk.
“We have a hearing this Friday to evaluate temporary custody.” My heart sinks at the thought. It’s easier to beconfident when something doesn’t directly involve the people in your life. I might still detest her daddy, but people person or not, this particular tiny, little one-year-old has wrapped me around her pudgy little finger and tightens her grip a little more every day. Her uninvolved mother shouldn’t be allowed to just decide on a whim that parenting might be fun. She shouldn’t have the privilege of being in this little girl’s life after basically abandoning her for an entire year.
“Friday,” he ponders. “Okay. We can make that work. We need you to fly out to Seattle tomorrow to deal with Stromreou.”
That fucking asshole.
The partners have started bringing additional agents in on some of Pete’s more higher-profile clients. The ones who are going to require the most hand-holding during this transition. Just my luck, they’ve given me the biggest douchebags so far. “What did he do now?”
As low-key as I can, I let myself into the Triple Crown. I may have originally negotiated with Logan for a few nights spent weekly at my own house, but after meeting with Nina last week, I realized that wasn’t much of an option. Too many nights in Kroydon Hills leaves us open to questions, and I have no doubt Monica’s attorney will have someone watching us. It’s what I’d do. Which leaves me commuting back and forth from New Jersey to Kroydon Hills. I don’t expect it to be too difficult, even if today it is.
I slip inside and up the stairs to what I’m beginning to think of asourroom—temporarily at least—and drop my bags to the floor and my ass to the bed. The rhythm of the rain I’ve beenbattling for the past hour on the highway suddenly relaxes me, and I close my eyes.
Just for a minute.
“Olive.” My name is a hushed whisper, one so soft, I’m not sure whether I’m dreaming or not. “Come on, Olive. It’s time for dinner.”
I force my eyes open and come face-to-thigh with my husband. Something I confirm after dragging my gaze up the rest of his body as he squats next to the bed in the darkened room. “Hey,” I croak, my sleep-soaked voice revolting against its use. “What time is it?”
