Chapter 10 Uninvited Guest
Olivia: POV
I tapped my pen against the meeting table, only half-listening as our marketing director droned on about third-quarter projections. My mind kept wandering back to the awkward morning I'd spent with Blake and the ridiculous agreement I'd made to work at his garden center this weekend. What had I been thinking?
"Olivia?" Catherine's voice snapped me back to reality. My adoptive mother—also our company's co-founder—was looking at me expectantly. "Your thoughts on the Glow Collection launch strategy?"
"Oh, um..." I straightened, quickly gathering my thoughts. "I think we should lead with the serum. It's our most innovative formula, and the clinical results are impressive enough to anchor the entire collection."
Catherine nodded approvingly, and I exhaled quietly, relieved to have covered my momentary lapse in attention. The meeting continued, with discussions about packaging and promotional events flowing around me while I pretended to take detailed notes.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Normally, I wouldn't check messages during a meeting, especially not one led by Catherine, but something compelled me to glance down discreetly.
Jason:【We need to talk. I'm coming to see you today.】
My stomach clenched. I'd blocked his number after our confrontation at the restaurant, but apparently, he'd switched to messaging from another phone. I quickly slipped my phone back into my pocket, trying to focus on the meeting while anxiety buzzed through me.
An hour later, the conference room finally emptied, leaving me alone to gather my materials. I pulled out my phone to respond to Jason's message with a firm rejection when Melissa, our receptionist, appeared at the door.
"Olivia, there's someone here to see you," she said, her expression uncomfortable. "A Mr. Jenkins? He doesn't have an appointment, but he's quite... insistent."
My blood ran cold. "Tell him I'm in meetings all day."
"I tried, but he says he'll wait as long as it takes." She lowered her voice. "Should I call security?"
I sighed, weighing my options. "No, I'll handle it. Where is he?"
"Lobby. And, um, he seems pretty angry."
Great. Just what I needed—a scene at my workplace. "Thanks, Melissa. I'll be right there."
I took a moment to compose myself, straightening my charcoal pencil skirt and smoothing down my cream blouse. If Jason wanted a confrontation, I'd make damn sure I looked completely put together when I shot him down again.
The main lobby of Radiance Inc. was designed to impress—soaring ceilings, living plant walls, and sleek modern furniture arranged around a central water feature. It usually projected calm sophistication, but today that serenity was disrupted by Jason's pacing figure.
He spotted me immediately. "Finally," he said, loud enough for nearby employees to hear. "You can't keep avoiding me, Olivia."
I approached him with an icy smile. "Jason, this is inappropriate. If you have something to say, you can email me, but you need to leave. Now."
"You need to clear this up for me," Jason said, his voice tense. "My company's stock dropped eight points today because of those photos."
"That sounds like your problem," I replied coolly, crossing my arms and maintaining my composure despite the tension.
"I've already spoken to your father. He understands the importance of discretion in our circles," Jason said with that entitled tone I'd grown to despise.
"You're lying. My father doesn't control my actions," I countered steadily. "And neither do you—not anymore."
"For fuck's sake!" Jason's voice rose, echoing in the lobby. "Just release a statement saying it was all a misunderstanding. Charlotte's already agreed."
"No she hasn't," I said flatly. "I just got off the phone with her ten minutes ago."
Jason stepped closer, his shoulders tensing. "You're being unreasonable. We can fix this. Get back together—"
"After you spent four months fucking someone else while telling me you were working late?" I laughed bitterly. "Not happening."
Jason grabbed my arm. "I'm not going anywhere until—"
"I believe the lady asked you to leave."
The voice behind me was achingly familiar. I turned to see Blake Westwood standing there, his expression calm but his eyes hard as he stared at Jason's hand on my arm.
Jason scoffed, though he released me. "Who the hell are you?"
"Blake Westwood," he replied evenly. "And you're causing a scene in a place of business."
I found my voice despite my shock. "Blake, what are you doing here?"
He didn't look at me, his gaze still locked on Jason. "Just happened to be passing by."
Jason's eyes narrowed as recognition dawned. "Westwood... right. The tech family's black sheep. Heard you got yourself injured and dropped out of the real business world." His tone was dismissive, clearly trying to establish dominance.
Blake's expression didn't change, but I saw a muscle tick in his jaw. "And you're Jason Jenkins, who apparently doesn't understand when a relationship is over."
I stepped between them, my back to Blake. "Jason, leave now, or I will call security. This is my workplace, and you're being completely unprofessional."
"This isn't over, Olivia," Jason said, his voice tight with anger. "And you," he directed at Blake, "stay out of other people's business."
"When you manhandle women in public spaces, you make it everyone's business," Blake replied coolly.
Jason's face flushed dark red. For a moment, I thought he might actually try to hit Blake, but instead, he turned and stalked toward the exit, shoulder-checking a potted plant on his way out.
An uncomfortable silence settled over the lobby as the glass doors closed behind him. I became painfully aware that everyone was now staring at Blake and me.
"Let's get out of the spotlight," I murmured, gesturing toward a side hallway.
Once we were in a quieter corridor, I leaned against the wall and let out a long breath. "Well, that was humiliating."
"Are you okay?" Blake asked, his eyes searching my face.
"Fine," I said automatically. "Just not thrilled about becoming office gossip."
"He seemed volatile," Blake observed. "Has he always been like that?"
I shook my head. "No, this is new. Or maybe I just never saw this side of him before." I looked up at Blake. "Thank you for stepping in, though it wasn't necessary."
"It looked necessary from where I was standing." He paused. "But you're welcome."
An awkward silence fell between us. I finally broke it with, "So, you're meeting with my father?"
"Was," he corrected. ""I was just handling some business nearby and got a bit worried about you, so I came by to check on you.""
"Lucky timing," I said dryly.
"For me or for you?" A hint of that infuriating half-smile appeared.
"Definitely for me," I admitted. "I owe you one."
"Actually," he said, "you could repay me right now. Have dinner with me tonight."
I blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. "Dinner?"
"Yes, dinner. That meal people typically eat in the evening?" His tone was teasing. "Unless you're still planning to pretend you don't know me outside of professional obligations."
I felt my cheeks warm. "I never said that."
"So... dinner?" he pressed.
I hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Dinner. But I'm choosing the place, and we're going dutch."
"Deal," he agreed, looking far too pleased with himself.
We exchanged phone numbers (properly this time, not drunk text attempts), and I promised to text him the restaurant details later. As Blake walked away, I couldn't help watching his slightly uneven gait—a reminder of the injury Jason had mockingly referenced.
"Hey, Blake," I called after him impulsively. He turned, eyebrows raised in question. "I heard you got hurt skiing. That must have been rough."
Something flickered across his face—surprise, perhaps, that I knew about his accident. "It was a while ago."
"I heard about it at the time," I continued, not entirely sure why I was pursuing this topic. "I thought about reaching out, but..."
"But you were too busy with your new boyfriend?" The words were sharp, but his tone wasn't entirely bitter.
I frowned. "That's not fair. I saw the news about your injury online. And you claimed back then that you weren't seeing anyone. I didn't even know when you came back."
Blake sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. "You're right. That wasn't fair."
"And now?" I asked, surprising myself with my directness.
"Now I'm much better." He smiled, a real smile this time, not the sardonic one I'd grown accustomed to. "Strong enough to help damsels in distress from aggressive exes."
I rolled my eyes. "I am not a damsel in distress."
"Of course not," he agreed, still smiling. "But you should work on your right hook, just in case he comes back."
"My right hook is excellent, thank you very much," I shot back, feeling a smile tug at my own lips.
"I'll take your word for it," he said, turning to leave again. "Text me the details for tonight."