Page 35 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

“Let me guess, my son messed things up again?” she jokes, and I’m tempted to tell her how much of a jerk he is, but I don’t.

“Just the usual disagreements. We’ll sort it out eventually,” I reply nonchalantly.

She stares into the distance for a few seconds, as if pondering. “How about you join us for dinner tomorrow?” she suggests. I immediately disapprove.

“No, Elliot and I are pretty heated up right now, and I don’t think it will end well.”

She lifts her hand to my cheek and gazes into my eyes with her blue ones. “Sometimes my son needs a little nudge to see what’s right in front of him. I suppose I raised him to be a bit clueless.”

I’m not sure whether to agree with her about Elliot. Maybe he just doesn’t want to see what’s right in front of him, regardless of any nudges. Perhaps he isn’t cut out for this. Then again, she could be right.

Every love story could use a sprinkle of magic dust.

Chapter twenty-two

Elliot

“You did what, Mother!” I bellow, slamming the plate down on the dining table, the sound echoing like thunder.

“I said I asked Olivia to join us for dinner,” she replies, her tone unflinching. I heard her the first time; I just need to be sure my ears aren’t playing tricks on me.

Slowly, everything starts to click into place. She waltzed into the restaurant just after Olivia left, and somehow, she guilt-tripped me into this family dinner. It was a setup after all.

“I should have known you couldn’t resist meddling,” I say, shaking my head, a mix of anger and disappointment swirling inside me.

“It’s not meddling; it’s helping you set things right before you self-sabotage,” she explains, but I cut her off.

“That’s not your choice to make, Mom. It never was, and you shouldn’t have done that,” I bark, the heat of my anger rising. Her silence tells me she knows she’s overstepped this time.

“I’m sorry for always crossing the line, El, but I’m not sorry for this,” she counters defiantly. “If you hate being in the same roomwith her so much, you can leave, and we’ll have dinner without you.”

She falls silent, and I stand frozen, my feet rooted to the floor even though logic screams for me to leave. I want to walk out; I do. But I can’t deny the part of me that longs to see her.

I said some harsh things to push Olivia away—lies that were among the hardest I’ve ever had to tell. I care about her; I always have. It became painfully clear during those weeks when the arguments ceased. Love is terrifying; nobody knows that better than I do. Yet here I am again, feeling weak and vulnerable. The battle between my doubts and desires rages on as she enters in her boho-style red dress. Her eyes sparkle in the candlelight surrounding the table, but I remain silent. Aside from the smiles she offers my mother, she keeps her gaze fixed on her plate.

“I hope you enjoyed the meal. You need to eat healthy until your brother returns,” my mother says to Olivia as we begin clearing the table.

“It was delicious, Mrs. Sharp. Feed me like this again, and I might just move in with you,” Olivia responds, hugging my mother and kissing her gently on the cheek.

“Tell that to Elliot; he made most of the dishes tonight, dear,” my mother clarifies, and I see Olivia’s smile fade.

Olivia is still hurt and angry. I deserve whatever she’s thinking about me now. Maybe it’s best she sees what kind of monster I truly am. Perhaps she’ll refuse me if my resolve ever breaks and I chase after her.

I’m in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, hoping the distance will keep my emotions in check. My mother’s intervention is working its magic because seeing Olivia is harder now than ever. Was it the kiss that changed everything, or, as my mother suggested earlier, am I beginning to see things clearly?

From the kitchen, I watch her chat with my mother, exchanging thoughts on love. I marvel at how anyone could helpbut fall for her. Who wouldn’t be captivated by that smile? Who wouldn’t be charmed by her endearing, if somewhat delusional, ideas? I certainly did, despite being the hardest man to break.

Olivia glances at her watch, and the change in her demeanor signals she’s ready to leave. But I can’t take my eyes off her.

“Thank you for being a wonderful host, Mrs. Sharp, but I must go now,” she smiles politely.

“That’s fine. Elliot will drop you off, won’t you, dear?” My mother looks at me, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Sure,” I sigh, grabbing my keys from the counter and leading the way outside.

Olivia follows in silence, but when we reach the car, she refuses to get in. “You don’t have to drop me home just because your mom asked. I can take care of myself,” she says coolly, standing a good distance away from me.

“Get in the car, Ollie. It’s fine.”

---