Chapter 334

Chapter 334
Olivia

Morning light filtered through the bedroom curtains as I pulled a cream blouse from the closet. The fabric was soft between my fingers, expensive in that way everything in this house seemed to be. I'd just fastened the last button when Alexander's arms slid around my waist from behind.
"Plans tonight?" His breath was warm against my neck.
I leaned back against his chest, enjoying the solid weight of him. "Haven't thought that far ahead. Why?"
"Just wondering if we could do something. Dinner, maybe." His hands settled on my hips. "Been a while since we had a proper date."
"Has it?"
"Yes." He kissed the spot below my ear that always made me shiver. "So? You free?"
I turned in his arms, studying his face. He looked genuinely hopeful, which was cute in a way that made my chest tight. "I might be busy after work."
His eyebrows rose. "Might be?"
"Yeah."
"Care to elaborate on that extremely vague answer?"
I smiled despite myself. "Not yet. Let me figure some things out first."
"Mysterious." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Should I be worried?"
"About what?"
"You being busy without me."
I laughed, swatting his chest. "Don't be dramatic. It's just work stuff."
"Work stuff that requires evening hours?"
"Maybe. Probably." I grabbed my watch from the dresser and fastened it around my wrist. "I'll tell you about it later, I promise."
Alexander was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing absent patterns on my lower back. "Alright. But I'm holding you to that promise."
"Deal." I stood on tiptoes to kiss him quickly. "Now let me finish getting ready, or we'll both be late."
He reluctantly released me, moving to his own closet to select a tie. I watched him in the mirror as I applied minimal makeup, the familiar routine grounding me despite the anxiety churning in my stomach about the work.
The drive to work was uneventful. I spent most of it mentally cataloging everything I'd need to research over the next few days.
Dylan greeted me at my office door with his usual enthusiasm and two cups of coffee. "Morning, Mrs. Carter. I compiled the data you requested."
"Already? It's barely eight."
"I got here at six." He handed me a tablet loaded with files. "Figured an early start couldn't hurt."
I scrolled through his work, impressed by the level of detail. "This is excellent. Thank you."
"Happy to help." Dylan shifted from foot to foot. "Anything else you need before the day gets crazy?"
"Actually, yes." I set down the tablet. "Can you pull together comps from our top three competitors? I want to see how they're positioning similar campaigns."
"Already done. Sent them to your inbox this morning."
"You're making me look bad with your efficiency."
He grinned. "That's the goal, Mrs. Carter."
The morning disappeared into back-to-back meetings.
By noon, my brain was fried, and my stomach was growling loud enough that Dylan could probably hear it from his desk outside.
"Lunch break?" Alexander's text appeared on my phone.
"God, yes. Where?"
"Your office."
I looked up just as he appeared in my doorway, carrying two paper bags that smelled like heaven.
"You're a lifesaver," I said, clearing space on my desk.
He set down the bags and pulled out containers. "Figured you'd be buried in work and forget to eat."
"I don't forget to eat."
"You absolutely do." He handed me a fork and settled into the chair across from me, opening his own container. "Eat."
I took a bite of the pasta he'd brought. Perfect, as usual.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both of us checking emails between bites. This had become our routine lately when schedules got crazy. Quick lunches in one of our offices, stolen moments in the middle of chaotic days.
"How's the Cornerstone project going?" he asked.
"Overwhelming. I've been reviewing their properties all morning, and the lack of brand cohesion is worse than I thought."
"That's why they need you."
"Or that's why they should have hired someone with more experience." I stabbed at my pasta. "Seventeen properties in six months is insane."
"You'll figure it out." He said it as if it were a fact, not an opinion.
"Your confidence is appreciated."
"My confidence is justified." He leaned back, studying me. "You've already proven you can handle pressure. Thompson was a mess, and you turned it into a showcase project."
I wanted to believe him. More than that, I wanted to prove him right.
"Okay," I said finally. "You're right. I can do this."
"Damn right you can." He gathered up the empty containers. "Now finish strong this afternoon so we can actually have a real dinner tonight."
"Deal."
He kissed me quickly before heading out, leaving me feeling slightly more confident than I had an hour ago.
The afternoon brought more meetings. A client call that ran thirty minutes over. A creative review with Ava that turned into an impromptu brainstorming session. By the time six PM rolled around, my eyes were crossing from staring at screens.
Dylan appeared with coffee I hadn't asked for but desperately needed. "Thought you might need this."
"You're a mind reader."
"Just observant." He set down a folder. "Also, these are the competitive analysis reports you requested for Cornerstone. Elena pulled them together this afternoon."
I flipped through the folder, impressed by the level of detail. "This is exactly what I needed. Thank her for me."
"Will do. Anything else before I head out?"
"Go home. We've all been here too long today."
After he left, I spent another hour reviewing Elena's reports. The competitive landscape for luxury resorts was crowded, but Cornerstone had advantages they weren't leveraging. Prime locations, strong operational track records, loyal repeat guests. They just needed a brand identity that tied it all together.
My phone buzzed. Alexander again.
Alexander: Coming home or living at the office permanently?
Me: Leaving now. Traffic permitting, home by seven thirty.
Alexander: I'll have dinner waiting.
The drive home was blissfully uneventful. No accidents, no construction, just smooth highway driving with the windows down and music playing.
At the estate, Alexander had kept his promise. Chef had prepared something that smelled incredible, and the dining room table was set for two.
"This is fancy," I said, dropping my bag by the door.
"Sometimes fancy is good." He pulled out my chair. "Sit. Relax. Tell me about your day that wasn't the Cornerstone stress."
We ate and talked about mundane things. Office politics, upcoming events, and his latest acquisition deal. Normal conversation that felt grounding after the intensity of the past few days.