Bad Boys Do (Donovan Brothers Brewery 2)

Yes, they certainly had. Half their weeknights had been spent at dinners with VIPs. “I’m busy. I’m supporting myself. And…I’m working on a side project, too.” She thought immediately of Jamie and pushed that thought away. “I’m thinking of starting my own business.” For a split second, she wondered if her mom might perk up at that. Maybe she wouldn’t reach approval, but she might possibly crest neutral. Her mother admired nothing more than entrepreneurs.

“Your own business?” she asked. Her voice crackled with doubt, sinking Olivia’s expectations. “What kind of business?”

“Do you remember what my plans were when I went to school? What I wanted to do?”

“Oh, darling. Not that again. That’s not the life for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re not a shark, are you?”

Olivia leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. “Mom…what are you talking about?”

“You’re not a predator, Olivia. You need someone.”

“Someone for what?” she snapped.

“Someone to take care of you. Your father and I felt Victor was a little old for a girl your age, but at least we knew he’d support you.”

Olivia felt the hair rise on the back of her neck. The chill spread from there, easing down her back and along her arms. This was what her mom had been trying to tell her for the past year. All the hints. All the disapproving comments and worried warnings. She’d never said it outright before, but this had been the crux of it all. You’re weak.

“Why would you say that to me?”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t take it the wrong way. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve always been serious and quiet and smart. You always did what we asked you to.”

“I was trying to be a good daughter.”

“And you were! That’s what I mean. You’ve always been a lovely girl. Always.”

“I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a grown woman.”

“Of course you are, sweetheart.”

The condescension in her mother’s voice made Olivia’s hands tremble. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you in a few weeks.” She hung up before her mom could object. If Olivia stayed on one more moment, she’d start screaming.

Unbelievable.

On one hand, she was shocked. On the other, she wasn’t surprised at all. It had all been right there for so many years. Sit down and be nice so somebody will

put up with you.

Be good. Be quiet. Don’t cause trouble.

“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pressing her trembling hands to her face. They’d taught her to be an obedient daughter who didn’t cause trouble, and now her mother held it up as a fatal flaw.

Though Olivia watched the phone nervously, her mom didn’t call her back. She didn’t want to have a deep, difficult conversation any more than Olivia did. So Olivia turned her eyes to the charts she’d printed out. The tables and graphs and lists. The future she wanted to build out of nothing.

You’re not a shark.

Maybe she wasn’t. She’d certainly given up all her dreams easily enough before. And hadn’t it been a bit of a relief? Hadn’t it felt like a burden had been lifted when she’d finally given in to Victor’s plans?

The numbers blurred for a moment, turning into columns of sooty, shifting liquid. Don’t let her under your skin, she told herself. That’s what those chills had been. It had been her mother’s doubt slipping beneath the surface of Olivia’s body, infecting her.

Olivia pushed to her feet and walked out to the hallway to make her way to the little galley kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee that was alarmingly black, but steam coiled up from it, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t add sugar or cream, she simply cradled the cup in her hands to warm them. When she got back to her seat, she took one sip and then another. She drank the whole cup, and by the time the coffee was gone, the chills had passed and Olivia felt better. Much better. She wasn’t floating, but she wasn’t stumbling, either.

She closed the online bank statement without looking at it again. It didn’t matter how small her savings were. She’d build them up. She’d make a way.

Even the most docile pet could turn dangerous when it needed to survive, and everything inside her was filling up with the instinct to fight.