Page 3 of The Negotiator
Meanwhile, she looks stunning in a pair of denim cutoff shorts, a crop top, and flip-flops. She looks so effortlessly beautiful, I can feel my heart constrict each time I steal a glance at her.
“If your goal was to kill me on the way up,” I say breathlessly, “then you’re halfway there. I haven’t lost my breath like this since tenth grade when my teacher made me run ten laps for snacking in the middle of class.”
She almost smiles but thinks better of it. Huh. I’ve never been the funny type, but I’ll bend over backward if that means I can pull one of those rare grins from her. “I told you I could kill you 101 ways.”
“You did. I can’t say I’m excited to learn about the other 100.”
“You don’t know the half of it, sir.”
Sir. That single word makes my loins tighten with primal lust. “My name is Oliver.”
She casts me an amused gaze. “Okay, sir.”
Goddamn, Olivia is stubborn. I fucking like it.
“You know, Olivia, fuck my ego. Let me sit first.” I sink into the massive boulder, feeling the cool, rough surface beneath me. The muscles in my legs twitch with fatigue—something I plan to bring up to my gym trainer when I get back.
Olivia sits across from me on a smaller boulder. She rests her palms on either side of her and lifts her face to the sky, the wind tugging at her short curly hair.
I sit there, wondering if I should kiss her, paint her, or just continue gawking like a creep. I choose the last option. I trace her jaw, slender neck, the freckles on her chest, the small rounds of her breast accentuated by the thin fabric, and her smooth, toned legs.
The view here is breathtaking—the horizon stretching out endlessly, the white caps of the waves sparkling in the sunlight, boats dotting the water below us—but it still has nothing on her.
Olivia Lang is a vision. The more I stare, the more I can’t look away … until I feel something stirring to life against my zipper.
Fuck me. I need a distraction.
“Olivia, talk to me. Tell me why you don’t want to sell and explain everything to me like I’m a five-year-old.”
“Well, your predecessors were worse than five-year-olds. At least kids understand what no means.”
“Lies. My assistant has a three-year-old. You tell her she can’t eat chocolates, she’ll spend the next five minutes stuffing her face with it.”
Olivia bites her lower lip, trying to stifle a laugh. “Fair point.”
At first, she doesn’t say anything else, just closes her eyes and sighs. Then, she sits straighter and rests her palms on her lap. “Okay since you’re the first one to actually ask instead of demanding I hand our land to you in exchange for money.”
Our lawyers did that? Shit. I will have a lengthy discussion with them when I get back, which is again hypocritical since I might have done the same if it wasn’t her. “I’m sorry for what they did to you and your family.”
“And the rest of our neighbors.”
“And the rest of your neighbors.”
Olivia waves it off and looks at a point behind me. “I know it’s just a piece of property to you and your multi-billion company. To me, my mom, and my sister, it’s more than that.” She bites her bottom lip again and blinks quickly. “It’s the only thing we have left of Dad.”
I don’t interrupt or even breathe so noisily because I can tell this is important to her. Plus, I need to understand her, so I can make my case to my brother. It wasn’t a lie when I told her that. Paul is bullheaded, but I can make him listen to reason.
“We’re not rich, obviously. But Dad … he did everything to provide for our family. He worked to the bone—waking up before the sun rose and coming home past dinner time. We used to live in an apartment complex on the mainland that was like one storm away from collapsing.” One side of her mouth lifts, and her eyes soften. “And one day, he came home earlier than usual and broke the news that he bought a land by the beach.”
Olivia raises her gaze to me, and what I see there has blood roaring in my ears, my pulse pumping wildly, and the raw need to be with her overriding all my other senses. “You have to understand, we’ve never owned anything, so that was a huge deal. A few months later, we moved here and each of us, even little Samantha, helped build the shack you saw yesterday.”
The shack. I’m not gonna lie. It’s no bigger than my entire penthouse apartment, but it’s charming and cozy. Even the weathered wooden exterior with its peeling yellow paint and a thin layer of moss on the roof.
It’s beautiful from the outside. I can only imagine what I’ll find inside.
“You can offer me ten million, and I’ll still say no. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, you can say or do to make me decide otherwise.” Olivia stands and fixes her top. “So I’m sorry if you came all this way for nothing. I will never change my mind. You’d have to kill me first.”
Olivia crosses her arms over her chest, but she no longer looks angry or defensive. She’s trying her best to make me understand and see everything from her point of view. Surprisingly, I do. “I work as a cook on the mainland while Mom sells her artwork online. We don’t make a lot, just enough, and we still won’t sell. Our neighbors too. The money you offer is life-changing for all of us, but you have to understand, Oliver, some things just don’t have a price. That includes our homes.”