Chapter One
Exhausted and wantingnothing more than to go home and curl up on her couch with a glass of red wine the size of her head, Olivia Monroe pushed through the front doors of her agency’s office. A tall, lanky man she didn’t recognize nodded politely at her as he held the door open. Mustering her waning energy, she gave him her best happy realtor smile.
“Who was that?” she asked the small, mousy woman behind the desk. MaryAnn Foster had been their receptionist for just over a year, but Olivia still wasn’t sure exactly how she’d gotten the job. She always looked like she was terrified of every person who walked through the door.
MaryAnn’s eyes went wide behind her slightly-too-large-to-be-trendy frames. “Oh, um, he was interviewing for the open realtor position.”
“Right, right.” Olivia vaguely remembered James mentioning an interview that afternoon. “I’ll be in my office if anybody needs me.”
“Um, Mrs. Monroe?”
Olivia tensed at the undercurrent of fear in the other woman’s voice. “Yes?”
“You know those papers you asked me to fax over for the D’Angelos?” Eyes darting around the office, MaryAnn licked her lips nervously. “I, um, sort of forgot.”
Too stunned for a moment to even speak, Olivia stared at the tearful woman behind the desk. “The deadline on that was yesterday, MaryAnn. Tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I was, Mrs. Monroe.” MaryAnn’s normally quiet voice had dropped to a nearly impossible to hear whisper.
“Tell me how this happened. Tell me, in detail, how you could be so fucking stupid.”
MaryAnn opened and closed her mouth several times, reminding Olivia of one of the goldfish she’d won at a county fair as a child. “I-I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry.” Olivia barked out a laugh that lacked any humor. “Well, then. You can call my clients and tell them you’resorrytheir paperwork wasn’t submitted to their lender on time. And while you’re at it, you can tell them how sorry you are they won’t be getting their dream house after all.”
“Is there a problem here?”
Closing her eyes, Olivia fought back a wave of irritation. There had been a time, not so long ago, when that voice would have made her knees tremble. She would have dreaded turning around, dreaded facing his disappointment and anger.
But these days, the anger and disappointment seemed to be all hers. Plastering a smile on her face, Olivia turned to face her boss. Her boss, who also happened to be her husband.
And, up until a few months ago, her daddy.
“No problem at all. Unless you consider being surrounded by complete morons to be a problem.”
The corners of his lips turned down, just slightly, in a look she knew all too well. Her heart rate kicked up, and her palms dampened with sweat. Had she pushed him too far? Memories of past punishments, of painful discipline at the hands of the man who ruled both their workplace and their home flickered through her mind. Hope and fear warred together in her stomach, doing far more damage than silly butterflies ever could.
But his eyes shifted from her to the woman behind her desk, and disappointment swamped her once more.
“What’s going on here, MaryAnn?”
Sympathy stirred in Olivia’s heart. “It’s really nothing, James. Nothing MaryAnn and I can’t work out between us. Isn’t that right, MaryAnn?”
MaryAnn’s dark brown eyes swam with gratitude. “Absolutely, Mrs. Monroe. I’ll take care of it right away.”
“Thank you.” Olivia gave her husband a small nod before turning on her heel and marching down the short hallway to her office. With the door safely shut behind her, she leaned back against the wood, giving herself some time to tame her out-of-control emotions.
“Get a grip, Monroe,” she muttered. “It’s better this way.”
The logical, rational part of her agreed, cheering loudly at her resolve. But the little girl inside of her, the part of herself she’d fought for months now to ignore, sat quietly in a corner with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Annoyed with herself, she pushed away from the door and placed her bags on the desk. There was no use in sitting around feeling sorry for herself. She and James had worked too hard to build their business over the past few years for her to throw it all away just because her marriage had hit a rough patch. Dropping into her chair, she stared at the blank monitors on her desk and willed her system to settle.
A familiar, firm knock rapped on the door before it swung open. She tensed, subconsciously bracing for a fight when James stepped inside and shut the door behind him again with an audible, ominousclick.
He stood just in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze steady and unwavering. The seconds ticked by with the two of them locked in a silent battle of wills before he finally spoke.
“What was that all about, Olivia Jane?”