Page 14 of Love on the Byline
“How…how have you been?” he asked her, goingfor casual.
Blake’s arms dropped to her side, a small smile returning toher lips. “I’m fine. It’s...” She exhaled a frustrated breath. “How are you?”
For a moment, it was just the two of them.
“I’m good.” He tried not to stare, but he couldn’t wrap hismind around the reality of Blake Dillon standing in front of him again.
“What are you doing here?” She stepped closer to him,side-stepping Bran altogether.
Ollie’s gaze flicked to his as he watched them. “Well—”
“I asked him to come out here after things took off for me,”Bran said, sounding more like himself. “Needed someone on my side.”
Her attention slid over to him, hertone icy. “You expected him to drop everything and come running? Of course, youdid.”
Oh, boy. “To be fair, I’d been looking for somethingdifferent anyway. My life, such as it was, wasn’tgoing anywhere. And L.A. seemed like the logical choice.”
She seemed unconvinced.
“I want a smoothie,” Bran announced as he turned and headedtowards the kitchen. “Anyone else want a smoothie?”
Hans stood by the island, sipping on some green concoction,and clearly amused by the situation. “So, the three of you were in collegetogether?”
“No.” She replied, just as Ollie said, “sort of,” and Bransaid, “apparently.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have a large smoothie.” Hans took a sip, grinning atOllie around the bamboo straw.
“This is obviously not going to work,” Blake said. Shepicked up a bag that was hanging from the back of one of the stools at the island. “I’m sure they can assign someone else.”
“Why?” Bran asked, giving her the smile that usually hadwomen melting at his feet. All genders, to be fair.
She was unaffected. If anything, her lip curled even more.Not that Ollie could blame her.
“Stop being a dick.”
“Me? She’s still mad about something that happened, what,six, seven years ago?” Bran snatched the tumbler from Hans, removed the straw,and started chugging it.
“Hey!” Hans cupped his hands under the straw to stop it fromdripping all over the white tiled floor.
“There’s enough left in the blender for a second one, isn’tthere?” Bran licked his lips, his eyes on her.
“You’re an ogre,” Hans muttered.
“I am,” Bran’s gaze was still locked on Blake’s, who shookher head.
“You’d be better off with someone you don’t have a historywith,” she said. “Someone who can write this piece without bias.”
“I’d hardly say we have history. You have one incident, nota pattern,” Bran countered, straightening to his full height.
“And yet, here I am—sent to clean up your mess.” She stoodtall. Beautiful. Defiant.
In a way, Ollie thought she and Bran would make a greatmatch. Or they’d end up un-aliving each other. Though,it would make him the ultimate fool to let someone like Blake slip through hisfingers again. The truth was, she was far too good for bothof them.
“Seems like you still think the world exists to serve you,”she nodded at the glass in his hand, “and that everything around you is yoursfor the taking.”
She had a point. “She has a point.”