“A couple times,” she said flatly. She did her best to ignore me by studying the menu.
After a moment, the waiter came and took our orders. When he disappeared, the silence between us felt electric with possibilities. I raked her in, making up for the lost time.
“You look lovely, Olivia.”
She tucked a sleek strand of dark-brown hair behind her ear. She was fidgety, avoiding my eyes, silently telling me that she wasn’t immune to my blatant appraisal of her. “So you wanted to discuss the plans?”
“I’d like to get to know you first,” I murmured.
She took a deep breath and folded her hands together in front of her. “You know my brothers well enough. Why are you suddenly so interested in me?”
“When I see something I want, I don’t waste time going after it. I’m a little impulsive that way.”
“And what exactly do you want from me?”
I exhaled softly. I wanted so many things…so many delicious and depraved things. I leaned forward and took her hand gently, bringing it across the table toward me. Her lips parted and her chest moved under a shaky breath. Soft olive skin slid like silk under my touch. Circling her wrist, I let the cool metal of her bracelet rest in my palm. A small charm hung from it. A crown with diamonds decorating the tips.
“This is pretty.”
“It was from my parents. A graduation gift.”
My wheels began turning. I already knew so much about Olivia, the game almost wasn’t fair. Still, I couldn’t help myself.
“Vassar?”
“Smith.”
I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “Top tier, all girls. Interesting. Must be where you got that sharp tongue.”
She laughed and pulled her hand back. “Four years without a bunch of elite chauvinists marching all over my words were refreshing, for sure.”
“Women’s studies?”
“Studio art. How about you? Oh, let me guess…” She pursed her lips like she was calculating. “Brown.” Her eyes lit up as she said it.
I was silent, momentarily unwilling to admit she was right and in disbelief that she seemed to be enjoying a game I had invented a long time ago for my own smug entertainment.
“Why Brown?”
“Ivy league, because your family could obviously afford it. But trendy and progressive, because you don’t really fit the mold.”
“Is that so?”
“I don’t know a lot of guys with your resources who are getting dirty on construction sites.”
I laughed out loud. “Ah, right. Good thing Tom introduced us properly. No way I was getting a date with you until you could establish my tax bracket.”
She rolled her eyes, and I couldn’t hide the grin splitting my face. Getting under a girl’s skin shouldn’t be this much fun.
“I’d guess what your father does, but I obviously already know.”
“Same,” she said with a tight smile.
Her quick reply knocked the wind out of me a little. My first instinct was always to defend my father to outsiders, but what he’d done was reprehensible. Didn’t change the fact that we were flesh and blood, though.
“There it is. I was waiting for that.”
A flash of remorse flickered in her cool blue eyes, like she wanted to apologize but had too much pride. I didn’t need her apologies or her sympathy.
Under normal circumstances, I might be concerned about our family’s connection. Our fathers had both spent time on Wall Street and no doubt shared several business connections. But I cared less about her parents learning of the proposition I was about to make than how my father’s stained reputation could become an impediment to getting her under me.
I sipped my wine and watched her do the same, enjoying the way her full lips met the delicate rim of the glass. Then her tongue swiping over her lips.
“You’re single,” I said. She’d fucking better be.
“At the moment.”
“That’s good news for me, but why?”
She lifted an eyebrow.
“Beautiful, the best education money can buy, wealthy family. You should be married off by now. Or am I missing something?”
She looked thoughtfully at her wineglass, twirling it by the base. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I only moved to the city a year ago, and I’m still getting settled. Getting ‘married off’ isn’t exactly a priority for me. Right now, the only thing I care about is helping Cameron and Darren get through this expansion. I’ve devoted myself to the project, and now you’re messing it up.”
I drummed my fingers on the tablecloth. “Is this about the wall?”
“This is about the wall and every other adjustment you plan to make that compromises our vision.”
“What if I said you could have creative control on the renovation from here forward?”
She blinked. “I thought you were on a budget.”
I shrugged and pursed my lips. “Convince me not to be.”
She swallowed, a new light in her eyes. “Well, there are certain aesthetics that will set us apart from everyone else—”
“Convince me tonight. At my place.”
She shook her head slightly. “What are you saying?”