Olivier (Chicago Blaze 9) - Page 23

“Your Goldfish and wine are waiting!” Julia yells as I’m drying off after my shower.

I inhale the food and sip the wine slowly as my sister blow dries my hair. Then she uses a curling brush to style it in big waves. She spends lots of time getting my makeup just right before letting me look at it.

“I like it,” I say, admiring my smoky gray eye makeup and contoured cheekbones. “I haven’t had makeup like this in ages.”

“Are you going to sleep with him?” my sister asks nonchalantly.

I give her a look. “Are you out of your mind?”

“I would if I were you,” she says, shrugging.

“Really?”

“He’s hot, Daphne. And I saw the outline of his dick in a photo online of him out running in shorts. It’s impressive.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I roll my eyes at her as I pack the tiny handbag I’m carrying tonight.

“If you do sleep with him, wash off your eye makeup before you go to bed or you’ll look scary when you wake up in the morning. That’s why I was asking.”

“We’re just hanging out,” I say firmly. “Dinner and conversation. Nothing more. I told him that.”

“Only you would friend zone a hot billionaire who literally rescued you from a burning car,” she says, shaking her head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I demand.

“I love you, but you’re a martyr. If Mom and Dad say yes, you say no. It doesn’t matter what the question is.”

I scowl with disapproval, her words making me bristle.

“This isn’t about Mom and Dad. I just got out of a long relationship. We were engaged. I want to focus on myself for a while, and when I am ready for a relationship again, I can’t see myself with a billionaire. Yes, he saved my life, Jules. I’m grateful. But I’d rather be with a man who has $100 and gives $99 to people who need it than a billionaire.”

She sighs softly. “Just have fun tonight, okay? You deserve it.”

“I will.” I take her hand and squeeze it. “I’m good, okay? I’m really happy with my life right now.”

Julia nods. “I guess Olivier will be here soon, so I’m going to get moving. I was so looking forward to this time away from Andrew and the kids and now I miss them. That’s how it goes every time.”

I help her pack up her hair and makeup supplies and we say our goodbyes. Then I’ve got nothing to do but scroll my phone until Olivier rings my doorbell right on time.

When I open the door, he’s standing there in dark gray slacks and a light blue dress shirt with the top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. We both say “hi” at the same time, making his smile widen.

“You look beautiful,” he says softly.

“Oh.” I look down at my outfit, though I don’t know why, and then back up at him. “Thanks.”

“We’ve got a couple photographers on our tail. My security guys will keep them from getting too close.”

“Okay.”

He grins as I close the door to my apartment and lock it up. “Maybe I should just kiss you now so they can get their pictures and then they’ll leave.”

His playful tone makes my heartrate speed up, but I keep my poker face on.

“We’re just hanging out, remember? No kissing.”

Olivier creases his forehead and sucks in a breath. “Actually, I had one of my attorneys look up the rules for hanging out and kissing is definitely allowed.”

“Is that right?” I arch a brow, amused.

“It’s actually encouraged, from what I was told.”

He leads the way to a black SUV parked in front of my building, where a man nods and smiles at me as he stands by the door.

“Daphne, this is Ben,” Olivier says. “He’ll be driving us tonight.”

“Hi, Ben.” I offer him my hand for a handshake, and he takes it, his smile making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Daphne, it’s a real pleasure. I was there that day when Olivier pulled you from the car. I wanted to come help, but the boss man’s a lot faster because I’ve got a bum leg.”

I like him. His warm, happy demeanor makes me feel like we’re old friends.

“I’m grateful to you both,” I say. “Thank you.”

I get in the car and Olivier lets himself into the other side of the back seat. We make small talk with Ben about our recoveries from the accident, sports and my work during the thirty-minute drive to the restaurant.

When we arrive at Fig, the restaurant has a line out the door and down the sidewalk. I meet Ben’s eyes as he waits beside my open door, wishing he could come to dinner with us. He puts me at a constant state of ease, whereas with Olivier I feel at ease sometimes and nervous other times. And I can’t even predict when the nervousness will hit—sometimes it’s just having his intense blue eyes focused on me, and wondering what he’s thinking.

Tags: Brenda Rothert Chicago Blaze Romance
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