Page 17 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

“I’m guessing yes, judging by how disturbed you look,” she says, taking another bite of her meal. “Whatever the issue is, you should apologize for whatever you’ve done.”

“Why do you think I’ve done something wrong? She’s the one who hits me with sacks of flour, and you think I should apologize?” I whine, not understanding why my mother has so much fondness for Olivia.

She laughs aloud. “She hit you with flour? I guess she’s better than I thought.”

“Mom!!”

“What? Everyone knows you’re annoying, and I’m sure half your employees wish they were bold enough to hit you too,” she says with a smile.

I let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t know who’s more emotionally draining— you or Ollie.”

“I think we all agree you’re the worst to deal with, so you shouldn’t be complaining,” she says playfully. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she’d been possessed by Olivia’s spirit.

Leaning over the table, I nudge her plate aside and sit next to her, looking her directly in the eyes.

“You seem to prefer taking Olivia’s side more than mine. Should I be worried?”

She pokes me in the chest as she laughs, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re my son. I love you more, of course. But maybe I like Olivia’s presence in your life because, for the first time in years, you actually seem alive.”

I roll my eyes, annoyed by her exaggeration. “I’ve always been alive, Mom.”

“Not like you are now. For the first time in years, I see your eyes light up when you talk about someone, and even though you claim it’s hatred, I’m glad someone can make you feel this much. Even if it’s Olivia.”

I hate how right she is. Hanging out with Olivia, despite the constant arguments, gives me something to look forward to. She infuriates me, but in a way that keeps me on my toes. But my mother doesn’t need to know that.

“Stop. You’re wrong, Mom,” I say, irritated. “I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of thinking otherwise.”

She smiles softly, but her words sting. “You deserve to be happy, El. No matter what your past has been.”

Her comment sends a ripple of unease through me. I feel the old wounds opening again, the ones I’ve spent years trying to avoid.

“I am happy, Mom. I’ve got my business, and I have you. That’s all I need,” I say, forcing a smile and squeezing her shoulders. Her eyes search mine for something more, but I shut down before she can find it.

“Take care of yourself, darling,” she says softly, hugging me before heading out of my office.

As I watch her leave, I feel the weight of her words press down on me. My feelings are changing, and I’m not sure I can handle it. Not again.

I won’t be foolish twice.

Chapter eleven

Olivia

I can’t stop my heart from racing—a rhythm of fear mixed with excitement about how today’s meeting might play out and whether I’ll end up in another fight with Elliot. We haven’t spoken a word since that night at the beach and his apology. Even Daniel hasn’t heard from him, as he’s been busy finalizing the wedding menu, which is approaching faster than any of us anticipated.

Elliot was sweet that night, a staggering difference from the man everyone knows him to be, but there’s no saying he won’t show up here grumpy, back to his old self.

“Isn’t that what you want?” my subconscious whispers. And yes, maybe I want that so my confused feelings can be clarified, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for it—especially after seeing how kind he can be.

“I hate you, Elliot, for trying to sway my fragile heart,” I mutter aloud, kicking a few pebbles in frustration.

“Okay, hatred noted,” Elliot’s voice laced with laughter startles me. I bang my hip against the hood of Julia’s car, which I drove here.

“Ouch!” I groan, rubbing at the sore spot.

I look up, all the blood rushing to my face as I take in his appearance. His hair’s still damp, like he’s just stepped out of the shower. Today, he’s dressed in a crisp white shirt, navy blue pants, and black boots that give him an air of someone who’s headed somewhere important—maybe even a date with the other woman he once wished he had feelings for. But that isn’t any of my business.

“Have you been waiting long?” he asks, and I’m momentarily speechless, struggling to form a response.

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