Chapter 11

VIVIANNE

I don’t feel like going to work today. I don’t want to face Liam again because this arrangement isn’t going to work.

I don’t think we’ll make it to the end of this—not with the way my heart has been behaving.

I’ve known from the start that I found him attractive, but I’ve also been telling myself just as long that this won’t work out.

He made it very clear from the beginning that he wasn’t looking for anything. That’s why he hired me, for goodness sake.

The coffee from Daily Grind tastes blander today—maybe because of the ~blah~ mood I’ve put myself in.

As I step off the elevator and smile at Jenna, I can tell she notices the shift in my energy. But she doesn’t say anything as I pass, setting her coffee on the counter.

Liam is at his desk, as he is every morning when I come in, working on something. A new client file, maybe?

I set his coffee down, grab a stack of papers, and head to the plush couch he had delivered just for me.

He must notice the shift too because he looks over and starts rubbing his shoulders. I peer at him, questioning. He shivers—small, exaggerated movements—then rubs his arm a little faster, staring at me.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I-I-It’s s-s-s-so c-c-c-cold in here,” he says, cracking a smile.

I can’t help but reciprocate. “Shut up, it’s not!” I toss a pillow at him, and my heart thrums as he laughs.

“C’mon, what’s wrong?” he says, standing and moving toward me, taking the seat next to me.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m still mortified from the flying peas.”

I laugh at myself and breathe a little easier when he laughs with me.

“I think those flying peas impressed Eddie,” he says, his voice soft.

“Eddie impressed me. So did you,” I tell him, watching his eyebrows rise. “You were like a whole different person with them, it was really nice to see.” I smile. “Also, I’ve never seen you pray before.”

“Yeah, Eddie brings out the best in all of us. I think that’s why we all love him so much. I wouldn’t call myself Christian, but something about the way Eddie believes so hard and his prayers—”

A knock at the door interrupts us. I look up to see Jenna standing there, a knowing look in her eyes as her gaze flicks between me and Liam.

“Sir, the intercom seems to be down. I’ve tried ringing in three times already. Your first meeting’s here.”

Liam nods and stands, straightening his suit and tie and taking his seat behind his desk.

He clears his throat, glances at me, and smiles—just before turning on the CEO charm and busying himself.

The next knock brings in a short, round man with a bad comb-over.

“Mr. Kravitz, thanks for coming. I hope you don’t mind—Ms. Pierce is sitting in with us today.” Liam shakes his hand, but Mr. Kravitz is too busy checking out my rack.

Liam clears his throat, his eyes sharp as daggers. Mr. Kravitz clears his throat, fiddling with the button on his suit as he hurries to sit across from Liam.

“Hello.” I give a small wave and sit up straighter, setting aside the files on my lap and squaring myself to face Liam.

Mr. Kravitz owns a small company across town that distributes books and specializes in rebinding and restoring older works.

From what I gather, Liam is trying to buy him out, though I can’t imagine what Stryder Corp would want with such a niche business.

Liam only asks me for support twice—once to redirect the conversation when Kravitz veers off track, using me to restate his original question, and again when he asks for my input on whether his offer is fair.

Kravitz isn’t biting, though. Whatever reason he has for hesitating must be a good one.

By the end of the meeting, I’m bored almost to tears. Mr. Kravitz has taken the conversation off topic at least half a dozen times, rambling through the ins and outs of his operation.

There’s a clear disconnect. I can feel his hesitation, even as Liam lays out an offer sweeter than whatever deal they started with.

“I’m sorry, I have to get back to my shop. Thanks for the meeting, Mr. Stryder. I’ll consider your offer,” Mr. Kravitz says, standing and shaking Liam’s hand before hurrying out of the room.

“We should take him out,” I suggest once the door closes.

Surprise blooms in Liam’s eyes. “Pardon?”

“Well, ~anyone~ can call you into their stuffy office on the top floor of some flashy building. But he’s kept his company small ~and~ successful. He doesn’t want the big guy buying him out and selling off his hard work in pieces.

“Take him to one of those book things—where they talk about the importance of using a mild cleaner so you won’t harm the pages further. If you want him—or rather, his business—you need to show him you care about his world.”

Mr. Kravitz wasn’t impressed with Liam or his offer. The number caught his attention, but not long enough to sway him.

Liam gives me an odd look.

“How do you know that?” A smile plays on his lips, and I decide I’d do anything to keep it there.

“What? I Googled it after I had a book repaired for my dad. I was just curious how they did it.”

I stand and stretch, walking to Liam’s desk. I set the file down and perch beside him.

“Viv,” Liam says, a strange glimmer in his eyes.

“Liam.”

“Did your dad ever ~stop ~yelling?” he asks, catching me off guard.

I nod, slowly, choosing my words carefully.

“Eventually, yes.” I swallow hard.

“Do you forgive him?”

There’s hope in his eyes.

And I realize—he’s not asking about me.

“I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean you can’t.”

I place my hand over his, hoping to comfort him. The room starts to feel smaller, the air heavier.

“I’m going to make a copy of this,” I say, stepping back.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. He nods, and I’m off to the copier—just needing a little space and air.

“Hello, doll-face.”

His voice yanks me out of all thoughts of anything good, stopping me in my tracks. I look up to see Mr. Stryder standing in the hallway, directly in my path.

I tuck my head down and move to step around him, but he throws an arm out, blocking me.

My blood starts to boil. I have to bite my tongue to keep from biting his head off. Instead, I look up and flash a sickeningly sweet smile.

“I have to make copies for Liam.” I grit the words out between clenched teeth.

He leans back, dropping his arm. I slip past him, stopping only to tell Jenna what just happened and asking her to order coffee.

“Sorry I didn’t have time to warn you,” she says.

I wave her off and head to the copier, leaning against it as it spits out the pages. The office hums with soft chatter and movement, but my thoughts are spinning.

I ~really~ dislike that man. He’s so grimy.

How am I supposed to survive this cabin trip if he acts like ~this~? I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold myself together under his roof.

It takes me fifteen minutes to gather myself before I return.

The moment I round the corner, I notice Jenna’s tense posture. She hands me the drink holder with coffee.

Shouting echoes from Liam’s office.

My pulse kicks up. I pick up my pace.

When I reach the doorway, I find Liam standing behind his desk, his father leaning over it, jabbing a finger in his face. He’s yelling about Liam’s choices, his voice sharp and cutting.

I freeze.

The room falls silent as they both turn to look at me.

“Shut the damned door!” Mr. Stryder shouts.

“Don’t you dare yell at her.” Liam isn’t shouting anymore, but the venom hasn’t left his voice.

“Remember who you’re talking to, boy.”

“Enough!”

My voice rings out, slicing through the tension.

Mr. Stryder scoffs, disgust twisting his features.

“You two need to stop behaving like children.” I glance between them. “Liam, you are a grown man—act like it. And you.” I turn to Mr. Stryder, eyes hard. “He’s making the decisions he thinks are best for the company. At least hear him out.”

I set our coffee on the desk and leave the room, walking out to Jenna’s desk.

“You did ~what~?” she says, eyes wide with awe. “I wish I could say something like that to Mr. Stryder.”

“Just date his son, and you can.” I wink, laughing.

***

The office stays quiet. Another hour passes before Mr. Stryder finally leaves, winking at me on his way out.

I sulk back into the office, grumbling to myself about that man. I knock lightly before stepping inside, like a scolded pup with her tail between her legs.

I hate the way Liam’s father makes me feel—the sharp, instinctive disgust he elicits.

“Sorry I yelled,” I say, barely over the threshold.

“No, you were right.” Liam motions for me to sit. “Do you know how amazing you are, Viv?”

My heart squeezes at the sound of my name on his lips.

“Yeah, right.” I roll my eyes and plop down on the couch.

“No, Viv. Nobody stands up to me like you do. And I’m pretty sure my father was ~this~ close to having a stroke.” He holds up two fingers, barely an inch apart.

We sit and chat, clearing the air.

By the end, Liam’s arms are wrapped around me, holding me close in a tight hug, my face buried in his shoulder. He plants a soft kiss in my hair, resting his chin on top of my head, his hands warm where they rest against me.

I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen after the contract’s up.

Will I ever see him again? Or will I be pushed aside—forgotten by yet another man in my life?

We finish up our work, the air lighter now, the silence between us filled with a quiet kind of content.

We walk to the elevator together, heading home for the day.

“Want to grab dinner after this?” I ask once the doors close, eyeing him—any trace of the earlier argument with his father long gone.

“I have to go home, grab some things. Though dinner sounds great.”

“You ~have~ to?” I ask, pouting.

“I have to. All my stuff’s there, you know.” He chuckles.

“Just move in with me, then.”

The words escape me before I have a chance to stop them—before I can shove them down and pretend they never existed.

Liam’s head snaps toward me. “What?”

I swallow. “I—uh—well, you keep complaining about the back-and-forth, about not having your stuff here, and my place is closer. So…let’s change that. You can take the spare room. That way, we can walk to work together too.”

I force a smile, trying to calm the wild rhythm of my heart.

For a moment, he just looks at me. Then—

“Yeah, okay.” His voice is quiet, steady. “I’ll have some stuff brought over tomorrow.”

I nod—too fast.

When the elevator dings, I practically launch myself out, nearly walking into the doors. I grab the spare key from the hook and hand it to him.

It’s fine. It’ll be fine. It’s just for a few more weeks. Ten, tops.

So why does it feel like everything is about to change?