Page 60 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“My plan is to be here, in and out all day, unless something urgent comes up,” he replies.

I nod. “That should be plenty of time, but I’ll confirm on Friday,” I say. “I’ll take some measurements and photos now, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Take your time. Harvey and I will wait here,” Oliver says.

I begin to move around the gallery, taking in the space with a critical eye. As I work, I catch sight of Harvey out of the corner of my eye. He’s watching me with a mischievous look that sends my heart pitter-pattering against my ribcage. His presence is a constant distraction, making it hard to focus.

“All done?” he asks as I finish my last note.

I nod subtly, then shift my gaze back to Oliver's.

“Thanks for your time. I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Nice seeing you again, Jem,” Oliver replies, shaking Harvey’s hand before they embrace briefly in a brotherly hug. I can’t help imagining them as little boys, full of energy and trouble.

Harvey and I walk back to his car, and he surprises me by heading to my side and holding the door open for me again. There’s a comforting ease between us, a natural flow that makes it easy to let go and allow him to take the lead. It’s a rare feeling for me, and I can’t help but savor it.

In the car, I start organizing the delivery schedule for the event on Saturday on my phone. This time, it’s not because I have to, but because I’m genuinely excited about the event. Oliver’s approval has sparked a new confidence in me; it flicks a switch of happiness in me. A new passion for work… for life. This feels like a new beginning.

“Take a break.” Harvey’s voice pulls my head up from my planning.

“I want to get this done as soon as possible,” I insist, my voice laced with urgency.

His forehead creases with worry. “I’ll help when we get to the office.”

A sigh escapes my lips as I let his offer sink in. Surprisingly, I don’t mind sharing the workload with him. “I know, but I’d like to get started now.”

“You’re excited, aren’t you?” he says with a soft laugh.

I chuckle in return, the sound light and unforced. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.” He grins. “You’re smiling, and your eyes are so bright.”

“Okay, enough with the compliments. You’ll make me sick,” I tease.

“I like seeing you like this, happy,” he says with a chuckle. “It makes you nicer to me.”

I make a shushing sound, trying to reassure him. “I’m nice and I smile.”

A flicker of a smile passes his lips. “Only with people you trust.”

His blunt honesty stuns me. I’m at a loss for words, caught off guard by how accurately he sees through me.

Just as he’s about to say more, the car’s monitor flashes with an incoming call. The display shows, Esme. And a sweet, young voice fills the car.

“Esme.”

“Hi, Mr. Lincoln. There are some papers I need you to sign,” the voice says. I can’t help but wonder how many women he works with and if any feel the way I do about him.

Stories about rich guys and their personal assistants flash through my mind. I know it’s none of my business, but curiosity eats at me.

“Send them to my email. I’ll sign them in about ten minutes,” he responds.

“I also need you to come in and get your new suit altered,” she adds.

He needs someone to organize his life,I think with a touch of irritation.

“Put it in my calendar, and I’ll come in,” he says, then ends the call.

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