Overlooked(65)

"Yeah," he nods slowly before looking at me.

What is this about? I can't stop the suspicious thoughts flitting through my head because something about this just feels off.

"You're pretty special," he remarks, meeting my eyes. Something in his look sets off my internal alarm bells.

Standing, I try to bow out gracefully, "If it's all right with you, it's time for your father's exercises and I hate to keep him waiting long."

"Not so fast," he says practically sprinting around his desk to stand next to me. "There's something else I wanted to discuss."

I gulp audibly, afraid of what it will be.   





 

"Such as?"

Please don't be a creep, please don't be a creep.

Chanting that repeatedly in my head doesn't change the wary feeling rising in my gut.

"Watching you with my father has made me realize just how special you are. To the both of us," he says significantly.

No, no, no.

"It's no secret that you're attractive but your patience and kindness with him makes me crave you even more."

He did NOT just say that!

"Gavin, please don't do this."

"It's time you know how I feel." He leans in to me. "I want you, Olivia."

Taking two steps back, my head is shaking furiously. "I have to go, Gavin."

In the blink of an eye, his back is flush against the door blocking my escape.

"No. You don't."

A chill runs up my spine at his sinister tone.

"Let me out of here right now, Gavin." My voice is shaking, but only because I'm pissed.

"What? You don't want me because I'm not a billionaire like that dick who showed up in the middle of the night?"

"Gavin, move out of my way."

His other words aren't even worth a response.

"No," he taunts, reaching out to grab my wrist. "I want my turn with you."

Sick to my stomach, I try to yank my arm from his grasp but he only tightens his hold.

"Gavin, don't do this. Don't be this guy," I warn, still wriggling my wrist and trying to get free of his tight hold.

"You're so damn beautiful, Olivia. Initially, I was okay watching you from a distance because it was best for my father's care if things didn't get too messy between us. However, now I want more. The thought of you with anyone else makes my blood boil and I want you to myself," he says possessively, pulling me in closer to him.

"Let me go," I demand hotly. Anger is the only emotion I feel right now and it's tinting my vision with streaks of red.

"No," he laughs darkly. "I told you, I want my turn."

When Gavin dips his head to kiss me, I lose it.

With a swift kick to his groin and a right hook to his jaw with my free hand, I disentangle myself as he falls to the floor.

Seizing the freedom in the moment, I pull the door open and take off down the hallway to my room.

Pulse pounding in my ears, my fingers grab my phone from the nightstand. With shaky fingers, I key in the passcode just as Gavin appears in the doorway.

"Come near me and I swear to God, I'm calling the cops."

"You think you're so smart," he leers, watching me from his post at the door.

"Gavin, why are you doing this? Don't you care about your father? That's the only reason I'm here and I thought I made that crystal clear."

Gavin tilts his head at my statement before shaking it.

"Things change, Olivia. The same way you swore up and down you were single when I hired you. And now you're suddenly flying to exotic islands for vacations and sneaking off in the middle of the night to fuck some guy. I decided that I want my turn, too. I've been patient enough," he snarls at me.

"You disgust me," I say with enough venom in my voice to scare even me.

"That may be the case but you'll do it if you care about my father as much as you say."

My antenna sticks straight up when he says that. What the hell does he mean by that?

"Because if you don't give in, you're fired and I know you don't want to disappoint the old man, isn't that right?" he asks, his voice taking on a mocking tone.

"Why are you doing this?"

None of it makes sense. Before my trip, he'd never so much as acknowledged me beyond saying "hi" and "bye." Now he wants me to believe he's just been "waiting his turn"?

The whole thing makes me want to vomit.

"I'm not sleeping with you," I tell him. "But I'm not going to abandon your father."

"Tread lightly, Olivia. A lot is on the line here. Before you say no, make sure you're okay with failing my father in the process."

Shaking my head, I regard him with hatred in my eyes. I can't believe he'd be so heartless. He knows how much I've grown to care for Arnold and my determination to see this fight through until the end. Would he really put his father's life in danger just to prove a point?

"You wouldn't."

"Give me what I want and you'll never have to find out."

"No," I say firmly, so sure that he'll drop it.

I should know better because he doesn't let it go.

"That's a shame," he murmurs shaking his head sorrowfully. "I was really looking forward to having my fill of you. But I guess you want to do this the hard way. Have your stuff out of my house in twenty-four hours. You no longer have a job."

And with that, he turns and walks away.

What the hell just happened?





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN





OLIVIA KING





Settled on Winnie's couch, I huff and look around the living room at my scattered bags and unorganized belongings. Because of how sudden my move was, I'd been in no way capable of cataloging things before I just dumped them in a bag or box.

True to her nature, Winnie hurried over and helped me pack when I called her upset about what happened. It wasn't so much that I was sad to lose my job. It was the fact that now Arnold was susceptible to God knows what because of his son's reckless behavior.

Everything transpired before eight and now it's nearly midnight and I'm finally taking a deep breath.

"You okay?" Winnie asks, plopping down on the sofa beside me.

I turn my head to face her and feel a pang of guilt when I get a good look at her.

Simply put, my friend looks beyond exhausted and I know she has to get up and head to the office bright and early, even though it'll be Sunday.

"I feel like I should be asking you that. Why don't you go to bed? I'm fine. I promise," I say, giving her a reassuring smile.

When I'd mentioned checking in to a hotel for the night, she objected and demanded that I sleep in her spare bedroom.

"Nonsense. We're having a glass of wine to celebrate your freedom. I know it didn't come in the way you planned but it's still freedom nonetheless."

She pulls a bottle of red wine seemingly out of thin air. Winnie makes quick work of filling two glasses and setting the bottle on the coffee table. We clink glasses and recline against the comfortable cushions of her couch.

"Cheers to you, girl."

"You're a lifesaver," I tell her.

"Please, I haven't done anything you wouldn't do for me. Have you talked to Sebastian about everything that's happened today?"

My heart dances as soon as I hear his name and my smile isn't too far behind it. Despite my shitty day, just the mention of him has me feeling lightheaded.

"Not yet. I honestly haven't paid too much attention to my phone today. I'll give him a call before I go to bed. It's not as late over there so I have time."

"You officially no longer have an excuse not to visit him in California. He'll probably have you relocated and settled by the end of the week," she says matter-of-factly, taking another sip of her wine.

"Your stuff is already packed," she says with a half smile.

An hour later, after our second glass of wine, Winnie treks down the hall to her room. After locating something to sleep in, I grab my clothes and head for the guest room on the opposite side of the apartment.

Once I've showered, I slip under the covers and press my phone to my ear. Anticipating Sebastian to answer, I frown when it rings endlessly. Calling him again, I get the same result.

He must be busy.

When I called the third time, the phone bypasses ringing and goes straight to voicemail.

A heavy feeling settles in my gut but I try to shrug it off.

He's just busy.

Even though it's eleven at night where he is, I know that Sebastian often pulls long, unpredictable hours. So this must be one of those nights.

When I'm prompted to leave a message after the tone, I sigh and start speaking. "Hi, Bash. I know you're probably busy working but I just wanted to hear your voice. It's been a rough day. Give me a call when you get this. Bye for now."

After leaving the message, I decide to try to get some sleep. I'm mentally and physically worn out.

However, my overactive mind is whirling from the day's events and I sit up on my phone clicking through different apps.

Suddenly, an alert sounds and my hopes are quickly crushed when I realize that instead of a text from Sebastian, the sound is from the stupid Google alerts Winnie set up on my phone when I first returned from vacation.

She claims that because of who I'm dating, I should always be privy to what people are posting about me. I haven't used it once, always ignoring the notifications. Until tonight.

Blame it on the wine, but I find myself in a rather inquisitive mood. I open the notification and wait for my phone to load the landing page.

From the heading on the website, I can see that it's clearly a gossip blog covering pop culture.