Page 11 of Damaged Enemy Next Door

I wait for over ten minutes, but she doesn't return. I extract myself from the conversation and walk through the room deliberately, making sure I don’t make eye contact with anyone because that means another lengthy, unnecessary conversation. At last, I find Olivia in a conversation with three men – all of whom are way older than her. I don’t recognize two of them and can’t see who the third is from where I stand. I make my way over and gruffly enter the circle. “Olivia,” I say. “There you are!”

“Oh,” says the man I couldn’t see earlier. “Are you her father?”

I turn around to see whose face belongs to that filthy mouth but then stop in my tracks. Of course. Brett Johnson – my greatest rival. A billionaire in his own right; we never saw eye-to-eye while we built our empires. He’s also a total sleazeball. He’s been known to sleep with multiple young women in his office, record them, and pass around videos.

“Brett,” I say, in acknowledgment. “I didn’t know you were interested in making the world a better place.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

Olivia laughs. I look at her from the corner of my eye, angrily. I think she’s trying to ease the situation. “Just kidding,” says Brett, raising his hands up in defeat. “Good old jokes.”

I look at him, suspiciously. “You know, I’m a lot of fun when I get to know someone,” he continues, flashing a huge smile at Olivia. I can feel my cheeks going hot and say nothing in return.

Brett takes a step closer to Olivia, eyes never leaving hers. His gaze is intense, and his body moves with purpose–he wants her attention. He bends over slightly to catch her gaze, hands folded across his back. “What are you passionate about? What do you like doing?” he asks in a low voice that sends shivers up my spine.

Olivia blinks for a moment as though taken aback by his sudden intensity, but then smiles brightly and answers him thoughtfully about how she likes to focus on improving the lives of kids. “Well, would you like to go for dinner with me?” he asks her, right in front of me. “I could show you a good time.” Olivia looks uncomfortable and gives me a pleading look. If I have to stand here and watch this moron disrespect me or Olivia any longer, I would freaking punch him.

“Unfortunately, my paralegal and I have to leave,” I say, pretending to check my phone. “Emergency at work.”

CHAPTER 5

Olivia

Wedon’tbotherwithpleasantries. I grab Adrian by his arm and guide him through the party. “Thank you,” I say, breathing a sigh of relief. “That man was strange. Now can we get out of here? I’m exhausted!”

“You read my mind,” he tells me.

Adrian’s driver had received the SOS SMS we had set up and is already at the curb. Adrian opens the door and helps me in the car, putting the seat belt around me.

He gets in and closes the door behind him. “Drive,” he instructs the driver. “Make it a long one. I need a breather. Put up the screen.”

The driver puts up the privacy screen, unable to look back to where we are, and we, unable to look up front.

“What’s going on?” I ask. “What was going on back there when I laughed at that man’s joke? I may be wrong, but you looked a little pissed.”

He mutters after some thought, “He was flirting with you too much. It was disrespectful. If he had dared to disrespect me, or you, in front of me, I would have freaking punched him.”

I look up at him and laugh incredulously, “Adrian, I completely agree with you. But just because I was being polite doesn’t mean you ought to lose your temper!”

“You were flirting with him too, just when I got there!” he says, now angrily.

“I wasn’t flirting! What are you talking about? Why does it bother you so much?” I ask defensively. And then it hits me. Is he jealous?

“You laughed at his jokes,” says Adrian,

“Adrian, that’s ridiculous,” I say. “Why did that bother you? I almost feel like I’m asking the same question on repeat. Please, be honest with yourself and me and just give me the truth.”

His face softens and finally, he looks me directly in my eyes. “Because ...” he admits softly, "I want you all to myself. You came here with me." There is an unmistakable tension between us as we stare into each other's eyes. Then suddenly, without warning or hesitation, I lean forward and kiss him ferociously, my hands around his neck, taking control and pulling him closer to myself. “So, you were jealous, Adrian Carter?”

“I know I sound moronic,” he says.

“No,” I say, twirling a strand of his hair through my hands. “You sound like you’re finally being honest.”

Our kiss is passionate and explosive, almost as if we are more than two people kissing — it feels like we are worlds colliding. He tugs lightly on my lower lip with his teeth, then licks at it before getting lost in a series of soft pecks. He finally pulls away and looks at me with longing eyes.

“Olivia,” he whispers in a deep voice. “This isn’t professional.”

“Shh,” I say, pulling him closer. Maybe it’s the moment, or maybe it’s just too much champagne, but in this moment my heart wants what it wants.

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