Kira’s POV
The rcedes felt like a dream.
I’d driven nice cars before - as a bodyguard for Damien - but this was different. This was simply beautiful. And most importantly, it was ours.
"Turn it up!" Olivia shouted over the music, her hand already reaching for the volu dial.
I cranked it, and Dua Lipa’s voice filled the car, the bass thumping through the premium sound system.
We sang along at the top of our lungs, windows down, wind whipping through our hair, absolutely not caring that we probably looked insane.
"We’re that bitch!" I yelled.
"We ARE that bitch!" Olivia agreed, throwing her hands up.
This was freedom. This was joy. This was two best friends in a car they had no business owning, heading toward a future that seed impossibly bright.
The drive to Wellington and Sons took twenty minutes, and we spent every second of it singing, laughing, hyping each other up.
When I pulled up to the building, reality started to set in.
Olivia’s laughter faded. Her hands twisted in her lap.
"Okay," she breathed. "This is it. This is really happening."
I put the car in park and turned to face her. "Listen to . You’ve got this. You’ve already been doing this job for months. The only difference now is you get to be yourself."
"What if he’s different with ? What if he’s cruel or distant or..."
"Then you handle it. Like you’ve handled everything else." I grabbed her hand. "Liv, you’re brilliant. You’re capable. You can do this."
She took a shaky breath. "You’re right. I can do this."
"Damn right you can. Now go in there and be amazing."
She hugged tight. "Thank you for waking up so early to do this with ."
"That’s what godmothers do." I pulled back and grinned. "Now get out of my car before you’re late on your first day."
She laughed, grabbed her bag, and stepped out.
I watched her walk toward the building - shoulders back, head high, every inch the beautiful woman she was - and felt a surge of pride.
That’s my best friend.
I was about to pull out of the parking space when I saw him.
Damien.
Standing right in front of my car, hands in his pockets, that infuriating half-smile on his face.
My heart did a stupid flutter thing that I absolutely hated.
I put the car in park again and got out, trying to keep my expression neutral. Professional. Like seeing him didn’t make my entire body go on high alert.
"Kira." His voice was warm. "I thought that was you."
"Damien." I kept my tone even. "You’re here."
"Yes, I am." His eyes swept over the rcedes appreciatively. "Nice car. Yours?"
"It belongs to Olivia."
"Right. Of course." He moved closer, and I fought the urge to step back. "How are you? Settling back in New York okay?"
"I’m fine. Great, actually."
"Good. That’s good."
We stood there in awkward silence, the air between us heavy with everything unsaid. Everything that had almost happened by that pool. Everything I was trying desperately to forget.
"I should get going..." I started.
"Wait." He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. "I wanted to ask you sothing."
My pulse quickened. "What?"
"I know you don’t have a job right now. Since you resigned from your position with ." His eyes held mine. "If you’re willing, I’d like to offer you a position at the company."
I stared at him, certain I’d misheard. "What?"
"A job. At Wellington and sons. Legitimate this ti - as yourself, not as Kyle. We could use soone with your skills here." He paused. "The pay would be excellent. Full benefits. And you can report to Maxwell instead of , if that makes you more comfortable."
"Are you serious right now?"
"Completely serious." His expression was earnest. "You’re talented, Kira. The best bodyguard I’ve ever had, regardless of what you were pretending to be. I’d be stupid not to try to keep you in the company in so capacity."
My mind was racing. A job. A real job.
Olivia’s POV
I stood outside Maxwell’s office, my hand on the door handle, trying to rember how to breathe.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Simple. Basic. Important for survival.
You can do this. You’ve been in this office a thousand tis. You know this space. You know this man.
Except I didn’t. Not really. Not as Olivia.
Everything was different now.
I straightened my shoulders, smoothed down my dress - a navy sheath that hit just above the knee, paired with modest heels and minimal jewelry - and knocked once before entering.
Maxwell sat behind his massive desk, exactly where he always was. Papers spread before him. Laptop open. Reading glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed sothing on the screen.
He looked up when I entered.
And stood.
That was new. Oliver had never gotten that courtesy.
"Olivia." He ca around the desk, and I noticed he was dressed in a charcoal suit that fit him so perfectly it had to be custom-tailored. "Welco. Officially."
"Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Wellington."
"Maxwell." His voice was firm. "We’re past formalities, don’t you think?"
"Right. Maxwell."
He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, but instead of returning to his own seat, he half-sat on the edge of the desk, one leg still on the ground, putting himself at my eye level.
It was a power move disguised as casualness. Very Maxwell.
"You look good," he said, and the complint caught off guard.
Heat flooded my cheeks instantly. "Thank you."
A small smile tugged at his lips - like he’d noticed the blush and was satisfied by it.
"I want to set so ground rules," he began. "So we can work together effectively without the complications of our... previous arrangent."
I nodded, trying to focus on his words. But it was hard when he was this close. When I could sll his cologne. When I could drown in the greenness of his eyes. When I could feel his heat.
"First, honesty. Complete honesty from here on out. No more disguises, no more gas. If sothing’s wrong, you tell . If you need sothing, you ask. Clear communication."
His lips moved as he spoke, and I found myself watching them. The way they ford words. The way they curved slightly when he said sothing he thought was important.
They were nice lips. Full but not too full. Perfectly proportioned. I’d never let myself notice as Oliver, but now...
"Second, professional boundaries. You’re my assistant, and I’m your employer. That ans... Olivia? Are you listening?"
I blinked, my eyes snapping back to his. "Yes. Sorry. Professional boundaries. I’m listening."
His expression turned amused. "Are you? Because you seem a bit distracted."
"I’m not distracted."
"No?" He leaned forward slightly. "Then what was I just saying?"
"You were... establishing ground rules. For our working relationship. To avoid complications."
"And what specifically was I saying about boundaries when you stopped paying attention?"
Busted.
"I was paying attention," I insisted, even though we both knew it was a lie.
"Olivia." His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Is there sothing on my lips? You keep staring at them."
Oh God. Oh God, he’d noticed.
"No! Nothing! Your lips are fine! I an... not fine, fine, just... there’s nothing on them! I was just..." I was rambling now, words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "I was looking at your whole face! Not specifically your lips! I was maintaining eye contact! Like professionals do!"
Maxwell’s smile widened into sothing that looked dangerously close to a grin. "Maintaining eye contact. Of course."
"Can we start over?" I pleaded. "Please? I promise to actually listen this ti."
"Alright." But he didn’t look away. Didn’t move. Just continued watching with those knowing eyes. "As I was saying - professional boundaries are important. But I also want you to feel comfortable here. This is your workspace now. Your office, technically, since you’ll be using the desk behind my door."
"My old desk."
"Oliver’s old desk," he corrected gently. "Which is now Olivia’s desk. Everything Oliver had access to, you have access to. Files, passwords, etings. You’ll attend everything with , take notes, manage my schedule, handle correspondence. The sa as before, just... as yourself."
"I can do that."
"I know you can. You’ve been doing it for months." He paused. "But Olivia? I need you to understand sothing."
"What?"
"I’m going to treat you differently than I treated Oliver."
My heart stuttered. "What do you an?"
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