The Pickup (Imperfect Love 1)

“I don’t give a fuck how much it’s for! You went behind my back! You didn’t do what was best for me. You did what was best for you.” I slam my fist down on the desk. Then it hits me. “Did New York not want to re-sign me?”

“Not for what you’re worth.”

“But they would’ve signed me,” I clarify.

“For fucking pennies!”

“You’re going to fix this, or I’m going to sue you.”

My dad stands. “You’re thinking like a pussy-whipped fool!” He leans over his desk, challenging me. “If Olivia wants to be with you, she’ll move to California. You’re not going to stay in New York to make her dad happy and get paid half. That’s ludicrous!”

“It’s my choice to make!”

“You’re making the wrong choice. Choosing love over money will get you nowhere fast.”

Realizing nothing I say to this man will change his money-hungry mindset, I stalk toward the door. “I’m giving you an hour to fix this shit and then I’m coming after you.” I slam the door behind me and head to the elevator. Once I’m to my car, I call Olivia, but her phone goes to voicemail. I try again, but it does it again.

Next, I try her dad.

“Nick,” he says when he answers.

“I need to talk to you about my contract.”

“Son, you know we can’t discuss this.” Fuck!

“Okay, can you at least tell me if you’ve spoken to Olivia? I can’t get a hold of her.”

He’s silent for a second, and my heart starts racing, the hand holding my cell phone getting sweaty. “Stephen, where is she?” There’s no way she would’ve taken our son away from me. “She didn’t go to Paris, did she?”

“No! No,” he says, finally speaking. “I think she’s headed to our place in the Hamptons. She said she needs some time.”

Fuck that! She’s not getting any time. “Stephen, in those fairytales, I highly doubt when the princess runs, the prince sits back and gives her time.”

Stephen chuckles softly. “That’s probably true.” Just as I’m about to say goodbye, he adds, “Like I told you before, Nick, regardless of what happens in this business, you’re part of our family. That will never change. I don’t know what happened, but I’m always here if you need a friend…or some fatherly advice.”

“Thank you.”

I hang up and turn my car toward 27-W toward the Hamptons when my phone rings. Olivia’s name pops up on Bluetooth.

“Liv,” I answer.

“Hey, can you come over? We need to talk.”

Thirty-One

Olivia

One hour ago

Nick drops me off and the first thing I do is call my father. When he answers, I breakdown. “Is it true? Did he sign with Los Angeles?”

“He did, sweetheart. He didn’t tell you?”

“No! He didn’t say a word.” I start to gather Reed’s clothes, throwing them into a small suitcase. “I asked him so many times and he said we would figure it out together.” I shove diapers and a container of wipes into a bag.

“We just don’t have the money they have. We offered what we could, but it was still only half of what LA could offer him.”

My body freezes in place. “This is about money? Are you serious?” A lump lodges in my throat. “One of his biggest concerns was that everyone around him was money hungry, and in the end, he chose money over his son and me?”

“You don’t know that. He could want you to join him.” My dad, always the optimist, always seeing the best in everybody.

“Then he should’ve asked before he signed the contract.”

“Do you want me to come over?” my dad asks, concerned.

“No, I’m leaving.” There’s silence over the phone.

“You’re not going back to Paris, are you? Because I would really miss you and my grandson. I feel like I just got you back.”

“No, I’m not going to Paris. Probably just to the Hamptons. I’ll call you once I’m on the road.”

“Okay, sweetie. I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

Just as I’m ending the phone call, Giselle comes down the hall. “Reed’s asleep.” She assesses the situation in front of her. “Where are you going?”

“To our place in the Hamptons.”

“Wow! You’re running again?” She snatches the luggage and throws it to the side. It hits the floor with a thud. Giselle has never been mad at me before, never raised her voice with me, so her actions have me frozen in place.

“What do you mean, again?”

Giselle scoffs. “You ran to Paris when your mom died. Then you ran home when Victor dumped you. Then, you ran home again when you found out you were pregnant. And two out of three of those times I ran with you. Well, I can’t run, Livi.” Tears threaten to spill from her lids, but Giselle is too strong to let that happen.

“I can’t run anymore. It’s not that I don’t want to…but I can’t. And if you stop for one damn second and think about this, you don’t really want to run either. It’s just what you’re used to doing, and up until now, you’ve never had a good enough reason to stay because everything you were running from you had already lost. Your mom died. Victor broke things off. We graduated. But now—”