CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
HARRISON
The lookon Olive’s face when she turned me away haunts me. When I finally got off my conference call, I came out of my office expecting to see Olive waiting… but she wasn’t. Deb returned from lunch and confirmed that she was here, waiting while she read on her phone. Something she does anytime I’m caught up with work and can’t leave on time for whatever we are doing.
So, what happened between the time that Deb left and Olive left?
It takes me five minutes after I’m back at the office to know exactly what happened. My newly installed security cameras show Vera talking to a clearly devastated Olive. Vera leaves. Olive looks at my office doors with something like panic in her eyes before she gets up and practically runs to the elevator.
Now, I just need to find out what the fuck Vera said to her. I’m seconds from calling Vera into my office when my phone rings.
“What,” I bark.
“Sir, someone logged into your system while you were out.”
I let out a low growl. “Please tell me you know who it was.”
“I do. You’re not going to be happy.”
“Just tell me.”
“Sam Wilson and Vera Michaels.”
“What the fuck?”
“I told you that you wouldn’t be happy.”
“You’re dead right on that. Call the team… and the police. I want this shit dealt with now. Meet me in my office in ten.”
“Right away, sir.”
With barely contained rage, I call both Vera and Sam in for what they think will be a typical business meeting but will be anything but typical.
Vera is the first in the office. She saunters in like she owns the place, giving me a seductive smile. “Harrison, baby.”
“Don’t,” I growl, wanting nothing more than to slap that smile off her face.
“Tell me, what did you say to Olive? Why did she run off?”
Vera doesn’t even have the decency to look chagrined at being caught. “I just told her the truth.”
I narrow my gaze at her. “And what truth is that?”
“That she’s just another one of your little playthings.”
Rage unlike anything I’ve experienced courses through me at the thought of Olive thinking that she’s anything less than precious to me. Because she is. I may not have realized it or been ready to verbalize that even to myself yet, but she is. I can’t see my life without her in it.
“She’s not a plaything,” I snarl. “She’s everything.”
Vera looks as if I smacked her.
“You don’t mean that!” she shouts.
“I mean it more than I ever thought I could,” I reply honestly.
“You’re supposed to be with me.” Her hands tap on her chest. “You’re mine. Not hers. Mine!”
