Page 7 of Twins with Daddy’s Bestie

The only drawback is the almost perfectly straight line between me and Olivia. Every time I look at my computer screen, my eyes trail upward to watch her as she wrinkles her eyebrows and focuses intensely on what she's cooking. She gets lost in her craft, and it's easy to admire that about her.

My office door swings open, and I turn my attention toward the last person I expected to be walking through the door. Petra Friedman. I stand and stare at her for a moment, fumbling with words in my head. She was one of my first clients at the firm, and she lives in Paris. I invested in her organic skin care company, which has turned into a beauty empire thanks to all the social media influencers who constantly rave about the products. On top of that, she and I have a history.

“What are you doing here?” I walk around the desk to give her a hug. She holds me at arm's length before kissing me on both cheeks.

“That's the greeting I get after a year apart?” Petra’s French accent is thicker than ever.

“I'm sorry; you just caught me off-guard.” I laugh, guiding her toward one of the chairs and pulling it out for her. I sit beside her, knowing this probably isn't a formal meeting. Then again, Petra has always been one to go overboard with protocol.

“I was just in the city, and I thought I would come to see my favorite man and convince him to take me to dinner.” She puts a hand on my arm and bats her lashes at me.

I smile at her and fumble around in my mind for an excuse. Petra is gorgeous, with honey-colored hair and olive skin, and millions of guys would be lucky to be in my position. But she and I don't work. We've tried it before, and I'm not interested in replaying it.

“Petra, we've discussed this. Because I'm investing in your company, it wouldn't be ethical for us to continue our relationship.” I hold her hand in mine.

She sucks her teeth and raises a disapproving eyebrow before her face cracks and she laughs. I exhale a breath I didn't realize I was holding, joining her. “I know, but that doesn't mean we can't still be friends, does it? Besides, I have some new ideas for my business I need to run by you.”

I turn away from her to search for Jack in the office. He is a scheduling wizard, and I know he can squeeze her in somewhere, but instead, my eyes instinctively find Olivia's. My heart thuds a little faster in my chest as I notice her watching us. She quickly looks away, busying herself with chopping something on the counter, and I force myself to turn and smile at Petra.

“I would be happy to have dinner with you, then. Let me look at my schedule, and I will text you the details. How long are you in town?”

Before she can answer, my door opens, and Jack walks in with my father close behind. His eyes land on Petra, and a familiar disappointed look clouds his expression. I know he has the wrong idea, especially considering I'm sitting next to her and holding her hand. Petra couldn't have come at a worse moment.

“Am I interrupting something?” Petra looks between me and my father.

“I have a meeting.” I quickly pull my hands from hers and stand up, walking to the door to hold it open for her. “I'll text you with the details for dinner.”

She hugs me and kisses me on both cheeks once again before heading out. I close the door and sit behind the desk, watching my father as he sits across from me. His eyes are hard, and I know what he's thinking.

“You really need to avoid another scandal.” He shakes his head subtly.

“Trust me; I know. Petra is just a friend, and we were setting up a business dinner,” I say, knowing it's falling on deaf ears.

He nods, and I start my proposal before he changes his mind. Tyler made a beautiful presentation for me to show him that highlights all the areas my company has diversified. Petra's beauty company opened a new world for our investments with countless up-and-coming brands. On top of that, we've invested heavily in tech startups to fund new and innovative technology to aid in medical procedures.

“With your investment, we would streamline the research and testing of the MediArms to bring it to market faster. Sales teams at the company have interested buyers in private and public hospitals and offices. Investments are expected to double within six months at the interest rate we’ve negotiated with the company.” My father is impressed as I work through the slideshow to show off all the statistics we've thrown together. When I'm finished, he is smiling, and I can see that he is proud. That alone is enough to make all this worth it.

“You've done your research,” he says before inhaling sharply. “That impressed me. I need to think about it, but I'll get back to you by the end of the week.”

“Thank you, sir.” I offer him a smile.

“How’s the planning for Friday night’s dinner going?” he asks, and I furrow my eyebrows, not fully understanding. He opens his mouth to clarify, and then a memory hits me, and I realize I've dropped the ball.

The dinner. My father asked me to prepare for and host the annual dinner he holds for some of his dearest friends. It usually occurs at his home, but he asked me to host this year and I agreed, to show him that I’m responsible.

I know it's important, and I forgot. I've been so preoccupied with my business and making sure everything is going smoothly that his dinner slipped my mind.

“Everything’s all set.” I force a confident look into my eyes. “I found the perfect caterer, and we have a very special menu planned.”

He looks at me suspiciously and then gets up to leave. “Great. I'm counting on you. I've known these people for decades, and they're flying in to see us. Plus, if this goes well for you, you might have some more investors.”

No pressure.

We say goodbye, and I walk him out before rushing back to my office to scramble for the party. First, I run through the caterers we have on file for company events, but I soon realize that it's far too late to schedule something no matter how much money I offer.

I look into hiring new caterers, but without vetting them first, I could be in for a nightmare. I'm about to call one of my favorite area restaurants and bribe them to send an off-duty chef to cook for me when two light knocks on the door catch my attention.

Olivia is standing in the doorway with a tray of muffins. She smiles politely when I invite her in. This seems like a sign. I need a chef and she is a competent one.