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However, Ty Winstock was notoriously press-shy; his partner was the one who made the media rounds. Olivia didn’t even know what he looked like.

“That’s right.” Michael nodded, looking pleased by Olivia’s quick answer. “We’re hoping to acquire him as a new client, but he’s quite...eccentric. I’d like you to put together a dossier on him. Anything you can find that’ll give us a better understanding of his likes, dislikes, etc. We have our first meeting with him in two weeks. You’ll join me.”

Surprise and pleasure zinged through Olivia’s veins. She hadn’t had a lot of client-facing opportunities so far—most of her work involved tracking investments and conducting special projects such as analyzing the firm’s private equity holdings and industry trends, all of which she could do at her desk—but she thrilled at the challenge.

“I’ll have the dossier ready by next week,” she said, trying to hide her excitement.

“Excellent.” Michael tapped his pen on his desk. “I’ve heard great things about you from HQ. I know you’re only in the city for the summer, but who knows?” He smiled. “Maybe you’ll want to stay after you graduate.”

Olivia made a non-committal noise and smiled back. She loved New York, and she hated the majority of her co-workers here. The chances of her staying in San Francisco were slim to none.

When she returned to her desk, she found a Post-It note stuck to her mouse pad.

For nighttime shenanigans, call 415-768-2898 ;)

No signature, but it wasn’t necessary.

Olivia’s good mood dimmed, and she glared across the office at Logan, who winked and puckered his lips when he saw her watching him.

Ugh.

This was going to be a long summer.

* * *

Olivia got home—correction,got to Sammy’s house—at half-past eight. She’d stayed late to work on the dossier and had gone down the Internet rabbit hole researching Ty Winstock. He was an interesting character, to say the least. Thirty-three years old, never married, no children, a high school dropout who’d taught himself coding and created his first app at fourteen. He was unique among billionaires in that he didn’t own a house or any personal real estate holdings—he traveled a ton and moved from five-star hotel to five-star hotel, but since he was based in the Bay Area, he spent a majority of his time at the Z Hotel San Francisco. She still had to do more digging on the guy’s current investments, but the ache in her eyes alerted her it was time to shut off the computer and resume her investigation tomorrow.

“You’re home late.” Sammy sat at the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of noodles and watching as she off slipped her shoes and placed them neatly on the shoe rack by the entrance. The kitchen was the one room that offered a view of all other parts of the house—the entryway to the right, the hall of bedrooms straight across, the dining and living area to the left.

“Not that late for finance people.” Olivia hesitated, wondering if she should make small talk before beelining to her room for a change of clothes and a shower.

She’d spent all of yesterday moving in, and the task had taken her mind off how weird it would be for her to live with her ex. Now that she had no boxes to unpack or clothes to organize, she was at a loss as to what to do.

How would their relationship work? Would they be roommates who made small talk in passing? Would they eat meals and binge-watchThe Bachelortogether, cackling over how cheesy but addictive the show was?

She couldn’t imagine the latter happening, but it seemed wrong to treat Sammy as just a roommate given their history and the fact that he’d gone out of his way to help her. Regardless of how much he’d hurt her back then, she owed him, and that threw a whole new wrench in their dynamics.

Not that she could complain. She’d chosen to accept his offer, so it was up to her to figure it out.

“Have you eaten yet?” Sammy asked, interrupting Olivia’s silent debate. “I made extra noodles, if you want them.”

“No, thanks. I already ate.” Olivia had a list of the best restaurants that delivered to her office and planned on rotating between them in the upcoming months. Honestly, she wouldn’t have minded a second meal—Sammy’s noodles were amazing, and her sushi dinner hadn’t filled her stomach as much as she would’ve liked.

But she didn’t want to eat dinner with Sammy. Didn’t want to sit in close proximity to him while those dark eyes of his caressed her skin, and the rumble of his voice stirred things inside her that she hadn’t known still existed.

They stood across the room from each other, their tones casual and their conversation mundane, but a strange charge danced in the air between them, twisting the molecules into a rope of tension that sizzled and tugged at Olivia’s stomach.

“If you change your mind, the leftovers will be in the fridge.” Sammy shifted, and his muscles bunched under his shirt.

Gulp.

“Sounds good.” Olivia ran a nervous hand through her hair. “It’s been a long day, so I’m just going to shower and call it a night.”

She might’ve imagined it, but she thought his eyes flared with heat at her words, and the charge in the air danced faster.

An inane part of her wondered if he was picturing her in the shower. The possibility shouldn’t have thrilled her as much as it did.

Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no sexual attraction between us. It’s...static. Like the kind you find on sweaters during winter.

Olivia admired him the way she’d admire any good-looking man, but that didn’t mean she wanted to sleep with him. Or kiss him. Or do anything else of that nature.

As for the way Sammy was looking at her...well, that was her overactive imagination playing tricks. She read too much erotica.

“Good night,” Olivia blurted before he could say anything else.

She practically ran out of the kitchen, holding her breath until she was within the safe confines of her room.

She leaned against the door and closed her eyes, her heart pounding for no discernible reason. Sammy hadn’t said or done anything untoward since she ran into him at Ishikawa, and she had no reason to be this nervous. But even though he’d been nothing but pleasant—almost suspiciously so—Olivia couldn’t shake the sense that she was prey trapped in a house with her hunter.


Tags: Ana Huang If Love Romance