Page 18 of A Baby For Her Billionaire BFF

My face warms, and my heart races. I did my best to stay in touch with him, but he only responded to a few emails, and we never made plans to meet up. He moved on with his life after college — a life that didn’t contain space for me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Chicago’s been my home again for nearly a year,” I say, trying to sound more casual than I feel.

The words are heavy in my mouth like they’re laced with the emotions and trials of that year — the long hours, the high-stakes cases, and now, the abrupt end.

“Really?” He raises an eyebrow, his surprise genuine. “I had no idea you were back in town.”

“Yep, moved for a job at an environmental law firm.” I offer a tight smile, not wanting to delve into the “got fired” part of my story. That’s a conversation for never if I can help it.

“Environmental law, huh? That’s impressive.” He nods, and there’s something in the way he says it, a respect that feels undeserved at the moment. It makes me want to squirm out of my skin or maybe just out of this coffee shop.

“Thanks.” I’m running out of steam here, the urge to flee growing stronger with every passing second.

But there’s also something else — a flutter in my chest, a warmth that spreads despite the chill of embarrassment. It’s that same pull I felt back in school, the one that always seemed to place Oliver at the center of my thoughts when I least expected it.

“Always knew you’d do something great.”

He’s smiling now, and it’s all I can do not to get lost in it, to not fall right back into the past where we’re laughing together in the quad under a canopy of autumn leaves.

“Great is debatable at the moment.” The words tumble out before I can stop them, and I mentally kick myself.

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head in interest.

“Uh, nothing, really. Just that I’m currently unemployed.” I fiddle with my scarf, my discomfort growing. Great. Why did I just admit that? “It was nice to see you. I, uh, need to get going.”

His brow furrows. “Nora?—”

But I’m already darting around him, zipping my way out of the coffee shop. This week has already been a downhill one, and running into Ollie is the cherry on top.

As much as I always wanted to be a lawyer, once upon a time there was something I wanted perhaps even more. A boy with floppy chestnut hair and an easygoing smile.

My career crashing and burning is one heartbreak. Running into the guy who got away — the guy I never even had — is the second heartbreak I can’t take right now.

So I put one foot in front of the other, hurrying away from the coffee shop, pretending I don’t hear him calling my name.

CHAPTER 9

OLIVER

“Wait, Nora!” There’s a note of desperation in my voice as I push through the door of the coffee shop.

But she’s gone, swallowed by the sea of people bustling down the sidewalk. My heart thumps erratically in my chest. It’s been years since I’ve seen her, and now she’s slipping through my fingers.

I weave through the crowd, searching for that familiar blond ponytail, that confident stride I remember so well. Everywhere I look, there are strangers. She could be any one of them, or none at all.

The irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve spent the last few years mastering the art of finding hidden potential in dilapidated buildings, yet I can’t spot one person on a busy street.

Maybe I should just leave her alone, let her go. I was the one who let our connection fizzle away, caught up in the world of real estate moguls and sky-high ambitions.

Except… this week her image kept creeping into my thoughts, unbidden but persistent. Now, here she is — or was — right in front of me.

“Sorry!” I mumble as I bump shoulders with a passerby.

I rub the back of my neck, frustration mounting. This can’t be a coincidence. There’s something about fate or destiny or whatever you call it when paths cross unexpectedly. If only I could find her…

At the corner, where the pedestrian traffic bottlenecks at the crosswalk, I finally catch sight of her. She stands there, her profile etched against the backdrop of impatient commuters. She’s tapping her foot, her eyes darting around as if she’s looking for an escape route.

---