Kristin Coley - Loving Livie

Loving Livie

By

Kristin Coley

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

LOVING LIVIE

First edition: July, 2016

Copyright 2016 Kristin Coley

Written by Kristin Coley

Chapter One

W ELL, WELL, WELL, LOOK what the cat dragged in. I drawled, allowing my eyes to linger as they drifted down the Adonis that had just walked through my office door. He was in a tailored three piece Armani suit. My fathers tailor, I noted, scanning the lines of it. I told myself I was only checking out the suit and not the well-muscled body underneath it.

I used the time to control my surprise at seeing him here of all places. I kept an office in Waco, a tiny rebellion against my father who ran his empire from a sky rise in downtown Dallas. As much as I loved the man we couldnt work in the same office. I hadnt anticipated him sending Beckett to me though. I knew better than to underestimate my father but hed caught me off guard with this maneuver.

Long time, Livie. He replied, his husky baritone still capable of sending an unwilling shiver down my spine.

Olivia. I corrected. Not to be trite but not nearly long enough. My smile was just short of a grimace as our past rushed in along with his presence. I stood up from my desk at his entrance. I would take any advantage I could and being 511 barefoot we were eye level with my four inch heels on. He smiled at my rising, no doubt knowing exactly why. Wed been trained by the same man after all. Power plays were second nature to us.

Aww, Im hurt. He didnt bother to hide the leisurely once over he was giving me. I thought we parted on good terms.

If that was good terms Id hate to know what bad ones look like. I countered as he gave a nonchalant shrug. It had been seven years since I was face to face with the SOB and of course he had only grown better looking with age. His tawny hair was short and styled, a vast difference from the first time I saw him.

I told my father no. So scurry back to him. Im sure hes missing his right hand man. His mouth twisted at my words but I refused to apologize for the dig. He hadnt bothered to contact me in the years since he had lied and left me broken hearted. I saw no reason to make this any easier on him now.

Your father disagrees and since he signs my check, I think Ill stay. He gritted back, his face tight even as he kept his stance relaxed. I had the feeling he wanted to be here about as much as I wanted him here but he wouldnt buck my father. Hed proven that years ago.

So if I write you a check, youll go away? I asked arching an eyebrow. He gave me a narrow look. I knew it wouldnt be so easy. He was not only extremely loyal to my father but also generously compensated. Even with my practically unlimited resources I doubted I could pay him enough to go away.

Beckett had proven himself devoted to my father long ago and time had only strengthened their bond. In some ways Beck had become the son my father never had.

I had degrees in accounting and finance plus an MBA but I would forever be Daddys little girl, meant to be pampered and cared for. I was supposed to find a husband and have babies in his mind. It didnt matter that I had planned to work by his side or once dreamed of taking the reins from him. That was a position reserved for someone other than his only daughter.

You know that wont work. I heard his warning loud and clear. Dont assume you can buy me. Others had tried and failed spectacularly. Many thought they could buy the type of loyalty Beck showed my father but that wasnt how he operated. Beckett held honor above all else. My father had taken a chance on him and Beck would never forget that.

Chapter Two

F OUR YEARS EARLIER

I checked the polish on my nails and gave a small moue at the pink color. It was a little lighter than I wanted. It went well with my skin but it didnt match my new Coach handbag. The office door opened before I could decide to lock up and get my manicure redone before my favorite salon closed.

I blinked at the sight before me. There was a tall boy standing in the door with his shirt half untucked and a tie, I shuddered at the realization that it came from the place they called Wal-Mart, tied inexpertly around his neck. I counted three stains and everything he had on was wrinkled. I squinted to see what was in his shirt pocket. If I was correct it was a pocket protector. At least that was the only thing I could imagine. Truthfully, I hadnt thought they were real.

He saw me staring at him and dropped the folder in his hands. Papers flew everywhere, one sliding toward me so I stopped it with my Jimmy Choo. I bent down to pick the paper up and realized it was a resume. I scanned it quickly wondering what kind of skills the mess in front of me possessed. I couldnt help but be impressed at what I saw. He had recently graduated from Harvard Law of all places. Magna cum laude. I glanced at him on his hands and knees attempting to gather the rest of the papers. Obviously he made up in book smarts what he lacked in social skills.

Finally, he gathered all of the loose papers and stood up. He had beautiful hair, I would give him that. It was a gorgeous mane, reminiscent of a lion with its blonde, gold, and brown tones. I knew plenty of woman that would gladly sell their soul for that color. It hung in his eyes, overgrown and shaggy, and desperately in need of a trim. In fact everything about him screamed for a makeover and I itched to be the one to do it.

Lawyer boy had an MBA to go with that law degree and I had no doubt he was brilliant but he needed some spiffing up.

Hi. He said, his rich baritone causing me to shiver. He shuffled from one foot to another, awkwardly staring at me. I gave a small shake of my head.

How can I help you? I finally asked when it didnt look like he would say anything more.

He looked startled, like he wasnt expecting me to speak. He pushed his black rimmed glasses up his nose nervously and I wondered if he needed them. If he did a nice wire frame would work better for him.

I, ah, need to drop off my lease agreement. He said, thrusting some papers at me. I took them and then proceeded to hand him his resume in the same motion. He flushed, crumbling the resume in his hand. I couldnt prevent my curiosity and waved my fingers at his action.

Thats a pretty impressive resume to just destroy. I flipped through the lease agreement checking to make sure everything was completed. My father had forced me to get a job when I arrived at college, telling me, Earning your own money will give you a greater appreciation of it. I rolled my eyes. I had always known we were wealthy and well aware of what it could buy me. He was adamant though so he bought an apartment complex near the university. He figured it would be a good real estate investment and I could live and work there.