Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 78(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 78(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 52(@300wpm)
Welcome to my life.
I’ve just arrived on the island after an exhausting ten-hour shift when Mom and Sammy rush from the terrace, waving a small piece of paper.
What the heck?
“You need to take a shower. It’s almost seven! Why did you get home so late?” Mom’s face is flushed, and she’s giddy with excitement.
“There were more customers than usual. Why? Am I supposed to be home at seven?”
Sammy shoves me toward the house, and for an eight-year-old, she’s pretty strong. Giggling while trying to maintain my balance is quite a challenge.
When we get inside, Mom drops a small box into my arms. “Go shower and change.”
“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?” I ask, and they both look at each other and smile.
Sammy grabs the small card from Mom and puts it over the box. “Oli the second is taking you out to dinner. He dropped that box and note earlier, but you weren’t home, and you weren’t answering your phone.”
“Wait, why are you calling him Oli? I’m Oli.”
Sammy beams. “He said his mom used to call him Oli. So now he’s Oli the second.”
Oliver’s relationship with Mom and Sammy does something to me. He doesn’t easily warm up to other people, which is why it’s easy to mistake him for being cold and arrogant. The fact that he hangs out at home even when I’m not here speaks volumes.
“Olivia, what are you waiting for? Go shower.” Mom pushes me to the bathroom, and Sammy helps her.
“Go, Oli. You stink. You smell like dead fish!”
Fifteen minutes later, I check myself out in the full-body mirror in my bedroom. My hair is curly and messy no matter how much I tried styling it. Whatever. I can’t do anything about that anymore.
The dress Oliver sent me flatters my petite frame. I don’t have curves, so I try to avoid anything form-fitting. But this one, with the white and blue floral print? It’s perfect.
The halter top shows off my tan and freckles. It hugs my body, cinches around my waist, and flares out at the hips. It only reaches up to my ankle, so I don’t have to worry about stepping on it. There’s a smaller white box under the dress, and when I flip it open, I gasp.
It’s a jewelry set—a necklace, bracelet, and a pair of earrings. Made with white gold and deep blue sapphires in a round cut. Small diamonds surround the sapphire.
My hands tremble as I try to clasp the necklace, and I almost jump out of my skin when I feel Mom’s hands behind me, clasping it for me and fixing my dress.
“You’re beautiful, Olivia.”
I spin on my heel to find her wiping her cheeks. “Mom, what’s wrong?”
She shakes her head and interlocks her fingers, as if in a prayer. “Nothing. I-I’m just so happy for you.”
“Mom…” I toss my head back and blink rapidly to stop my own tears from falling. I just did my mascara and eyeliner. I’m going to mess it up!
“Oh, just don’t mind your old lady.” Mom puts both hands on my shoulders. “You’ve been working so hard, and you deserve this. M-maybe your dad sent him to you.”
“I hope not.”
Mom and I laugh softly. Our shoulders continue to shake when Sammy yells, “Oli the second is here! I repeat, Oli the second is here!”
Oliver in a three-piece suit will be the death of me. White shirt with one button open, black suit jacket, and black pants. Goddammit, how can he look this irresistible? I realize I never really stood a chance.
“Hey.”
“Hey, love.” His gaze sweeps from my hair to my black slingback shoes, and whatever he sees has him clenching his jaw. “You’re so unbelievably beautiful.”
“Thank you for the dress.” I do a pirouette for him, and Mom and Sammy clap behind me. “And the jewelry.”
Oliver smiles and steps closer, brushing his lips along my temple and whispering, “Thank me later.”
His voice is so full of dark promise that I almost rub my thighs. I plaster a smile on my face and kiss Mom’s and Sammy’s cheeks. “I’ll be back later.”
Mom makes a shoo-ing motion, which Sammy copies.
“Where are we going?” I ask him as I loop my arm through his.
“You’ll see.”
“No way!” I exclaim when I see where he’s planning to take me out on a date. I can’t believe my eyes.
Oliver’s filthy rich, but even when he shows off like this, it’s still hard to wrap my head around that fact. The yacht before me is a picture of elegance—all sleek lines and polished wood, decorated with fairy lights and fresh flowers.
A violinist stands by the bow, his soft music playing in the background and mingling with the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the hull.
Oliver leads me to a table for two and pulls out a chair for me. He sits and reaches across the table to take my hand in his, brushing his lips across my knuckles.