Page 3 of No Mane, No Gain

As they entered the living room, Olive was hit with a wave of competing scents – her mother’s signature perfume, the aroma of Sapphire’s famous lasagna wafting from the kitchen, and the unmistakable scent of tension in the air.

Nicholas Russo stood by the fireplace, looking every inch the successful real estate mogul in his tailored suit. Beside him, his young wife – barely older than Olive herself – smiled nervously, her eyes darting around the room.

On the opposite side, Mariah Harper perched on the edge of the sofa, her posture rigid. Next to her sat a distinguished-looking older gentleman, his hand resting comfortingly on Mariah’s knee.

“Olive, darling!” Mariah exclaimed, rising to greet her daughter. “We were beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

Olive accepted her mother’s air kiss, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Traffic was a nightmare. But I’m here now, bearing gifts.” She held up the wine bottle like a peace offering.

Nicholas moved forward, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Good to see you, sweetheart. How did the board meeting go today?”

“It went well,” Olive replied, grateful for the neutral topic. “The new education initiative was approved unanimously.”

“Excellent,” Nicholas nodded approvingly. “The foundation’s lucky to have you at the helm.”

An awkward silence fell over the room. Olive could practically see the gears turning in her parents’ heads, trying to figure out how to steer the conversation toward their preferred topic.

Sapphire, ever the peacemaker, clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we move to the dining room? Dinner’s ready, and the kids are already at the table.”

As they filed into the dining room, Olive found herself seated between her father’s young wife and her mother’s new boyfriend. Talk about being caught in the middle.

“So, Olive,” Mariah began as soon as everyone was seated, “your thirtieth birthday is coming up. I trust you remember what that means?”

Olive’s stomach clenched. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget the arrangement that had been hanging over her head for nearly two decades?

“Mom, please,” Olive said, her voice tight. “Can we not do this now?”

Nicholas cleared his throat. “Olive, sweetheart, we made a commitment. The agreement-”

“An agreement you made when I was thirteen,” Olive interjected, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m not a child anymore. I’m the chairwoman of our family’s foundation, for crying out loud. Don’t you think I should have a say in who I marry?”

Mariah reached across the table, patting Olive’s hand. “Of course, you have a say, darling. But Marco and Isabella have a wonderful family. Their son is a brilliant businessman. You two would be perfect together.”

Olive took a large sip of wine, buying herself a moment. “Perfect based on what? An arrangement made when I was barely a teenager? Things change, people change. I’ve changed.”

“This isn’t just about you,” Nicholas said, his tone growing stern. “This union would strengthen both our families, both our businesses. It’s about legacy, Olive.”

“My legacy is the work I do with the foundation,” Olive shot back. “Not some arranged marriage decided before I even knew what love was.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Sapphire shifted in her seat, clearly wanting to intervene but unsure how.

“We understand this is difficult,” Mariah said softly. “But a promise was made. They are expecting-”

“Expecting what?” Olive interrupted. “A docile bride who’ll do as she’s told? That’s not me, Mom. It never has been.”

Nicholas frowned. “Now, Olive, be reasonable. We’ve given you time. You’re turning thirty, and you haven’t found anyone on your own. Maybe it’s time to consider that we might know what’s best for you.”

Something inside Olive snapped. “You know what? Maybe I have met someone.”

The table fell silent. Five pairs of eyes turned to her in shock. Sapphire nearly choked on her wine.

“What do you mean, you’ve met someone?” Nicholas asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Olive took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I mean exactly that. I’ve been... talking to someone. Getting to know them.”

“But... but the arrangement,” Mariah sputtered. “They’re-”

“I’m not a child anymore, Mom,” Olive interrupted. “I’m a grown woman who’s capable of making her own decisions. Including who I date.”

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