Page 37 of See You Maybe
Olivia lost the thread of the conversation as a boulder lodged in her stomach. Declan and the icy beauty were getting married? She set down her fork, sure she would choke if she tried to force another bite past her tight throat.
The salad plates were cleared, and Olivia used the transition to escape. “If you’ll excuse me a moment.” She wasn’t sure where she was going. The bathroom was probably as good a place as any to hide while she got her emotions under control. As she made her way across the room, her senses flared to life, and she knew she was being watched.
Detouring to the bar, she ordered another drink, even though she still had a full one left at her seat. From that vantage point, she scanned the room but couldn’t find anything out of place or anyone paying her special attention.
So why did she feel like her skin was on fire? Almost as if drawn by a magnet, her eyes rose to the landing at the top of the stairs.
Mouthwatering in what was obviously a tailored tuxedo over his muscular frame, Declan Bloom stood above the ballroom. His hands were braced on the railing, and even from that distance, she could see the anger in his face. Anger directed at her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
New York—Present Day
What the fuck is she doing here?
Olivia was absolutely breathtaking in the blue gown. Her thick hair was twisted on top of her head, with only a few curls left to caress her bare shoulders.
She stood at the bar scanning the room, and then her eyes lifted and met his. He was too far away, but he knew the sapphire of the dress matched her eyes.
A bolt of longing shot through him. Declan wanted to put her on his plane, and take her somewhere far away, somewhere she wouldn’t be tainted by the ugliness that was in his world. But here she was. Despite his best efforts, his Petal was standing in the middle of the sharks.
Olivia stared at him for a minute before her gaze flicked coolly away, and he wanted to roar. As much as Declan needed to keep his distance from her—for both their sakes—he couldn’t stand the thought of her giving her attention to anyone else.
Declan followed her line of sight, and ice flowed down his spine as he watched Chris Keller stride across the room to her side. Declan’s hands gripped the metal railing, and he imagined it flexed a little. Something ugly and dark bubbled up as Chris bent his head to say something in Olivia’s ear.
That bastard was standing far too close to her. Declan imagined Chris inhaling her French perfume, and his hands trembled with rage as Olivia shook her head at Chris with a small smile. Red mist formed at the edges of his vision as the bastard touched her again. Planting his hand on her back, Chris leaned in, his face almost touching Olivia’s.
He is a dead man, Declan reminded himself. He allowed himself the brief fantasy of how he would do it. I’ll start with the hand that touched her and then…
It took all of his self-control not to thunder down the steps and claim Olivia as his.
The thought sobered him.
That was the one thing he couldn’t do. It didn’t matter that every fiber of his being wanted her… If Chris knew who she was… what she meant to him… Chris wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her in order to get to him. Declan would die before he let that happen.
Thankfully, with her glass in hand, Olivia moved away from Chris and headed back to her table. Declan exhaled a harsh breath and struggled to get his rage under control. He needed his mask.
Declan forced himself to take measured steps down the staircase and toward the table that his company had sponsored. He knew Bloom Communications would also have a table at the gala, and he appreciated his family attempting to put on a united front with him for the various board members and society present around the room.
It wasn’t until he reached his seat that he remembered he had included Fiona in their number.
“Are you all right?” Cami, James’s new wife, asked quietly as he took his seat next to her.
Declan liked his new sister-in-law, but she was entirely too observant for his comfort.
“I’m fine.” He unfurled his napkin and placed it across his lap.
“You missed the salad course,” Fiona’s lips were smiling, but he heard the edge in her voice.
“I was working.” She frowned, but he had no intention of apologizing. Better she understand now, that if they made an alliance, it was purely for business purposes.
Declan was conscious of the awkward silence that fell over the table, and part of him hated that it was his arrival that had dampened their mood. Things had changed over the last twelve years. After what transpired in the hours after he’d left Olivia at the Shannon airport, Declan put a part of himself in a box, never to be opened again.
It wasn’t worth the pain.
Recently, over Thanksgiving in Atlanta, there was a moment when he thought things might go back to the way they had been when they were younger—before the pressure from his father and his duty to his family had hardened him.
Before he’d lost her.