Chapter 31 31
Lucas nodded slowly.
“Hmm.”
Before she could turn away, the door burst open.
“Sir, sorry to interrupt,” one of the top executives said, stepping in with a folder. He barely glanced at Blair, like she was invisible. “It’s urgent. We’ve lost three investors this morning.”
Blair froze.
Lucas did not.
He didn’t even acknowledge her anymore.
He didn’t tell her she could leave.
He didn’t look at her again.
He didn’t ask if she was done speaking.
He just shifted his attention entirely to the executive.
“We lost them because of this ‘Brooks Coffee Girl’ nonsense,” the man continued, flipping papers. “They’re pulling out until the company clears its reputation.”
“I heard you the first time,” Lucas cut in, his tone flat, giving Blair not even a glance as she stepped quietly out of his office with the tray.
The door clicked behind her.
The executive exhaled, relieved she was gone, then continued. “As I said, sir, I recommend a press conference. We can shut this down. Clarify that she’s not—”
Lucas raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
His jaw flexed — irritated, tired, but more than that… calculating.
“I’ve got other plans,” Lucas said simply, turning toward the window.
The executive blinked. “Sir?”
Lucas didn’t repeat himself.
He didn’t need to.
“Good day,” he said, dismissing him without looking back.
The executive nodded stiffly and backed away, understanding he wouldn’t get anything more out of him today.
The moment the door shut, Lucas leaned on his desk, hands braced, eyes unfocused — already lost in a storm of thoughts.
Instead, he reached for his phone.
His fingers were steady—too steady for someone whose chest felt like it was being squeezed.
“Book a flight,” he said the moment the line connected. His voice was calm, calculated.
“For my mother and my grandmother. First class. Today.”
The person on the other line hesitated. “To which location, sir?”
Lucas glanced at the mood board on his desk—rings, venues, color palettes that didn’t feel like his but felt like something he owed Olivia.
“Send them to the villa in Santorini,” he said quietly. “I want the staff to start preparing.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up.
Then he opened his laptop and began clicking through suit colors—soft creams, deep blues, something that would match whatever gown Olivia would choose.
He inhaled and shut his eyes.
Okay… just say it. It’s simple. She deserves this. Get it right, Brooks… don’t screw this one up.
He swallowed, lifted his chin a little, and tried.
“Olivia… for the past five years you’ve stood by me, even when I didn’t know how to let you in. I—”
He stopped. His voice cracked a little.
“Ugh, that sounds stupid.”
He dragged a hand down his face.
Try again.
He took a breath.
“Liv… I know I’m not the easiest man to love. But you stayed. And you gave me your best. So I… I want to make things right. I want us to—”
He winced.
“No. Too stiff. Sounds like a board meeting, not a proposal.”
He paced the length of his office, muttering under his breath, trying to shake the pressure off his shoulders.
His heart was beating too fast.
He couldn’t tell if it was nerves… or guilt.
He faced the glass again, looking himself straight in the eyes.
“Olivia,” he said a bit softer this time, “you saved my mom’s life. You stayed with me during my worst nights. I might not know how to show it well, but I… I want a future with you. So please—”
His throat tightened again.
He looked away.
Something about it felt wrong.
Forced.
Like the words were coming from duty, not his chest.
He pressed both palms on his desk, breathing hard.
“Why can’t I get this right?” he whispered to himself.
——————
The clock on the wall finally hit 8:00 PM, and the whole café let out a breath of relief.
Chairs scraped. Aprons came off.
Everyone was already gossiping as they packed their things.
“I heard he’s marrying his supermodel girlfriend,” one of the baristas whispered loudly enough for Blair to hear.
“No wonder we closed early,” another added with a shrug. “Rich people shut down a whole building just to propose.”
“And did you see the order slip?” a third woman chimed in. “He requested one of our most expensive flavors. That’s engagement vibe, for sure.”
Blair forced a smile and kept wiping the counter, pretending she wasn’t listening.
Her hands were steady… but her chest wasn’t.
Her coworkers slipped out one by one—some still whispering, some already excited about what they’d seen online.
But Blair stayed behind, tying up the trash, cleaning the machine, packing leftover pastries.
Routine was safer than thinking.
Safer than imagining him on one knee for Olivia.
Safer than imagining Maverick growing up never knowing—
“Blair, we’re heading out!” someone called.
“Yeah. Bye,” she answered softly without looking up.
⸻
Blair bent down to help Maverick zip his little backpack, her fingers trembling more than she wanted him to notice.
“Mommy,” he said, tugging gently on her sleeve.
She forced a small smile. “Hmm?”
His eyes were shining, hopeful… too hopeful for a child who’d spent the whole day watching other kids run to their dads.
“I had a dream,” Maverick whispered, like it was a secret.
“A dream that Daddy would soon finish his work… and come to us.”
Blair froze.
Just like that — one sentence — and her whole heart sank straight to her feet.
“Mave…” her voice cracked before she could stop it. She tried again, softer, pretending to be strong, “Dreams are just dreams, baby.”
But Maverick shook his head stubbornly, lips jutting out as he hugged her leg.
“No. This one felt real. Daddy was holding your hand. And he carried me. And… and he said he’s sorry for being busy.”
Blair felt her throat closing.
She knelt and cupped his cheeks gently.
“Maverick,” she whispered, “you have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He leaned into her palm with a soft sigh, tired from the long day.
Outside, other families were laughing, cars driving home, the city settling into evening.
But Blair felt like the world had gone strangely quiet around them — like everything paused just to hear his tiny hope break her heart.
“Can we get ice cream tomorrow again?” he asked, wiping his nose with his sleeve.
“Maybe Daddy will come then.”
Blair swallowed hard.
“Maybe,” she lied softly, brushing his curls back.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go home.”
She lifted him into her arms —
If only Maverick knew…
Daddy wasn’t coming.
Daddy didn’t even know he existed.
And Daddy… was about to propose to someone else.