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Chapter One
Get it, get out, get the job done.
The mantra Olivia Daniels lived by had taken her from small-town girl to kick-ass city woman—stepping over men on her way to the top. So many from this tiny suburb of Savannah said she couldn’t, wouldn’t make it when she set out at eighteen to start her adult life in a big city. She’d intended to prove them all wrong and she was one promotion away from having all her goals met.
Olivia had certainly never planned to return to Haven, Georgia, ever again . . . yet here she stood at the very same place that held so much of her past.
Glancing around the open airfield, Olivia squinted behind her sunglasses at the bright morning sun. The hangars, if that’s what people called the old rusted metal heaps, sat next to another building that was just as run-down. The main building had mostly been wasted space, save for the small room her father had used as his office.
With no paved lot and barely a functional sidewalk connecting the main building to the first hangar, it was clear this place could use a fresh start—or a wrecking ball. Gutters dangled precariously, the office roof looked as if it were made of sandpaper versus shingles, and the windows were so grimy it was unlikely anyone had seen in or out of them in the past decade.
The only positive thing Olivia could say is the “landscaping” didn’t look as mistreated—if wildflowers counted as landscaping. There were tulips and daffodils popping up as far as the eye could see, which was pretty far considering this dump was in the middle of godforsaken nowhere.
So what if Haven was her hometown? She wasn’t one to look at the world through rose-colored glasses—and even if she were, she doubted that they could help this heap.
A twinge of guilt coursed through her at her initial thoughts since leaving so long ago. This had been her father’s life. Literally. He spent every single day at this airport, leaving Olivia and her mother mostly alone. He claimed it was for the income, but they hadn’t had much, so she always figured he’d just rather avoid his family.
Olivia couldn’t afford to get nostalgic and from her first impressions, nothing here was going to change her mind. She was going to make this quick and painless, make this business deal and get back to Atlanta before anyone knew she was even in town.
She was used to getting what she wanted, not because she fell into it, but because she busted her butt and worked hard to prove she deserved it. Right now, she was laying eyes on her next acquisition, if one could call it that. Too bad someone else currently owned the other half.
Get in, get out, get the job done.
Olivia repeated the reminder—she wasn’t leaving today until she got the deed in full.
Pulling in a deep breath, Olivia straightened her pale pink suit jacket and headed toward the office. When she reached the back door, she rehearsed her speech once more.
Confidence and preparation were key to any good negotiation. Olivia learned early on that the only thing that beat tenacity was being prepared to face your nemesis.
“Livie Daniels.”
She came to a dead stop. Who the hell called her Livie anymore? So much for that mental pep talk she’d just given herself. She wasn’t ready to be thrown into the past with the simple drop of a name she had so long ago altered. Livie no longer existed . . . not even in Haven.
Shielding her eyes from the sun, Olivia put her hand over her forehead and turned toward the hangars. And just like that, nostalgia hit her as her past sauntered toward her outfitted with broad shoulders, a greasy T-shirt, equally greasy jeans, and a crooked smile.
Jackson Morgan.
Holy...
Where had all those muscles come from? He’d been thirteen and hanging around the airport with her father when she’d left. A gangly teen with an awkward overbite.
He was neither gangly nor overbiting now.
Breathe, Olivia. He’s just a man. Offer the money and get out.
“Olivia,” she stated when he was within just a few feet.
He tipped his head. “Pardon?”
Those eyes were just as striking blue as she recalled. A lock of coal black hair hung down on his forehead. The rest of his thick hair seemed just as unruly. Totally the opposite of anything she’d ever considered her type since she left Haven and had her heart broken by a country boy.
So the tingling in her belly had to be from hunger, that’s all. She refused to get her feathers ruffled over an attractive man. She also refused to allow anymore hick-like sayings to creep into her head.
“Nobody calls me Livie anymore.”
Jackson shrugged. “I didn’t get the memo, text, or however you communicate with those city folks—to me you’re Livie. But none of that changes the question. What do you want? I assume you’re here to see me, considering I’m the only one around.”
She star
ed, trying to find some semblance of the quiet, awkwardly thin boy she’d last seen when she lived here. “You look quite a bit different than I remembered.”
“Military,” he replied, as if that one word summed up everything.
Angling her body so the sun was at her back, she dropped her hand to her side. “Is there somewhere we can go to get out of this heat and discuss the property?”
“Oh, there’s nothing to discuss unless you want to help fix faulty air controls on a Cessna Skyhawk.”
