The vibration started first. A gentle yet persistent buzz reverberated through the room, tugging at the mattress edge like a determined cat pawing for attention.
Olivia groaned, her face buried in the plush depths of the pillow, her limbs unresponsive and heavy.
She swatted blindly toward the sound, her eyes stubbornly shut, until her hand ventured too far and she leaned precariously over the bed's edge.
Thunk.
The phone tumbled to the floor, the screen flaring to life and casting a fleeting wash of soft blue light across the room, shadows dancing momentarily on the walls. "Ughhh," she groaned, reaching out with the lethargy of a half-awake creature, her fingers grazing the device just as its glow faded into darkness. She had missed the call.
Halfway off the bed, she allowed herself to slump there, legs ensnared in the twisted sheets, her head drooping slightly over the edge like an exhausted sea creature washed ashore. The room remained still, the faint morning light filtering through the slatted blinds, painting delicate silver streaks across the polished hardwood floor.
Then, the phone erupted into sound again—loud, sharp, and heart-pounding. She yelped, startled by the abrupt clamor breaking the soft morning stillness, fumbling awkwardly until she finally managed to answer.
"WHAT—Hello? Huh?" Her voice was groggy, and her eyelids fluttered open as she blinked rapidly against the morning light streaming through the curtains.
The voice on the other end of the call was calm, with a hint of amusement mixed in. "Sis? Are you drunk? It's Thursday."
"Liam?" Olivia croaked, her voice rough as she blinked more rapidly, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "Wha—what is happening?"
"I need your help," he explained, his tone turning earnest. "Can you come to Montana for a couple of days? I'm short at the restaurant."
The request jolted her awake. She slid off the bed, feeling the coolness of the hardwood floor against her skin, rubbed one eye, and sat upright against the bed frame. The early morning light cast long shadows around the room.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice now clear and alert.
Liam sighed, a sound that conveyed the weight of his predicament.
"My GM was pregnant and was about to go on maternity leave. We had a temp GM filling in. But the original one just got placed on bed rest due to pregnancy complications. The replacements are still under contract until the end of the month, but they have bailed for a better job. So now, I'm short-staffed. I can't cook and run the front. Mom and Dad are coming to help, but not until next week."
"And Rebecka?" Olivia inquired, rolling her eyes slightly.
"She's got a whole family to look after. And, well… it's just you, Liv."
"Wow. I am so flattered," Olivia replied with a hint of sarcasm, though she felt a familiar tug of responsibility.
"Liv, come on. You know it's just me and my fiancée. We're fine with it. But you-you're the only one I trust with this."
Olivia's shoulders slumped as she exhaled deeply, her resolve softening. "It's been a week, Liam."
"I know," he said, his voice quiet with understanding.
"I mean, a week."
"I know," he repeated, a bit more softly.
Olivia sighed, then nodded slowly, resigned to her decision. "Okay. Let me check flights. I'm at Haley's, so I need to explain why I'm ditching her housewarming party."
"Oh God—tell her I'm so sorry. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't an emergency."
"I know." Olivia stretched her legs, feeling the stiffness in her muscles as she stood, slightly wobbly but alert. "But if you want me there by dinner rush, I have no time to waste."
"I know, I know—I'm sorry! I did yesterday solo, and it was chaos. Please." He said sincerely
"Okay! Get off the phone. I need to find a flight."
"Oh my God, thank you. I'll pick you up at Bozeman airport." Liam promised.
"You better feed me," Olivia stated, half-teasing.
"Liv, you're basically a walking stomach." He teased back
"Hey, Chef," she teased, "don't knock your lifeline. Just shut up and put out." She said half seriously.
They both laughed. Then she hung up.
—
With speed she didn't know she had, Olivia showered and dressed in a turquoise wool sweater, dark skinny jeans, and gray ankle boots. Her hair was a damp, defiant mess, so she stuffed it into a messy bun and called it done. She threw everything she had into her overnight bag, booked the fastest direct flight to Bozeman, and made her way downstairs.
The scent of fresh coffee hit her like salvation.
Haley and Daniel were deep in conversation, both impeccably dressed for work. Haley wore a sleek black V-neck knit sheath dress that hugged her figure and fell just to her knees, paired with an elegant emerald green pea coat that added a splash of color to her ensemble. Daniel was equally stylish in his designer black striped fitted suit, exuding an air of sophistication. They looked every bit the power couple as they chatted, steaming mugs of coffee in hand, when they glanced up to see Olivia descending the stairs with her bags packed.
Daniel raised an eyebrow in curiosity, while Haley tilted her head slightly, signaling her intrigue.
Olivia held up a finger to pause them. "Wait. Let me go first," she insisted.
She poured herself a steaming cup of coffee, taking a generous sip before gazing thoughtfully into the mug, as though it concealed some profound revelation.
"I hate to say this… but I've been jealous of what's going on between you two. I can't take it anymore," Olivia confessed, her voice tinged with emotion.
Haley blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wait… what?" she asked, struggling to process the sudden turn of events.
"I know it may seem like I've been cool with the situation, but honestly—I knew him first," Olivia continued, her tone a blend of vulnerability and determination.
Haley turned to Daniel, who could only shrug, his eyes wide with surprise.
"I love you, Hals. And this is why I haven't said anything. But I can't live in this house pretending everything is fine when I can't hide it anymore…" Olivia's voice wavered as she paused dramatically, the room heavy with anticipation.
Finally, she declared, "Haley… I love him. Truly. Henry's been mine since The Count of Monte Cristo."
"LIV—OH MY GOD!" Haley exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief.
Olivia erupted into a fit of laughter and dashed away, expertly dodging the throw pillows that Haley hurled her way with every ounce of playful vengeance she could muster. "That is for the London Bar Trip Fiasco!" Olivia shouted between her howling cackles, her laughter echoing through the room.
Meanwhile, Daniel stood at the kitchen island, blinking in bewilderment. "Wait—what's the London trip fiasco?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"NOTHING!" Haley bellowed, her voice a mixture of defiance and amusement.
A mischievous grin spread across Olivia's face. "Oh, it's something," she teased. "And she still owes me."
Still chuckling, Olivia returned to the kitchen, her cup of steaming coffee in hand. "But seriously… I do have to go," she said, her tone shifting from playful to serious.
Haley and Daniel exchanged a glance, their amusement replaced with concern. "What's happened?" Haley asked cautiously. "Is it about P… um… Asshat?"
Olivia shook her head, dismissing the notion. "Nope. No time for that drama. It's Liam," she clarified.
Haley stepped closer, her concern deepening. "Is he okay?" she asked softly.
Daniel, still grappling with confusion, asked, "Wait—who's Liam?"
"My brother," Olivia explained, taking another sip of her coffee. "His restaurant's short-staffed. The General Manager is on bed rest. I promised him I'd help out."
"I'm going to miss your housewarming, but he swore he'd send you something awesome," Olivia added with an apologetic smile.
"That's sweet and rude," Haley muttered, embracing her friend warmly. "Okay, what do you need?"
"Just a ride. My flight leaves in 45 minutes," Olivia replied, her urgency evident.
Daniel nearly choked on his coffee, eyes wide with surprise. "Wow, okay. That's tight," he remarked.
"Liam wants me there for the dinner rush," Olivia explained, throwing her hands up in resignation. "So here I am, about to sprint to the gate like a lunatic."
"Liv, that's what we do best," Haley said with a knowing smile, sipping her coffee as she leaned against the island.
"I already miss you," she added softly, her voice tinged with affection.
"Think of this as a work trip," Olivia grumbled, moving in to hug Haley tightly. She inhaled the familiar, comforting scent of gardenia, honeydew, and hazelnut coffee that clung to her.
"Thank you for last night. And I'm sorry for missing your party," Olivia murmured, her voice full of sincerity.
"I love you more than Henry," Haley whispered back. "So it's okay."
"But is it okay if I compete with him?" Daniel asked, feigning offense with a playful glint in his eye.
Laughter filled the room once more as Daniel grabbed Olivia's bags and headed toward the door. "We'll drop you off first," he said, "then I'll take Haley after."
"Sounds perfect," Haley agreed, finishing her coffee and grabbing her bag with a flourish.
Olivia watched them with a smile, their playful banter about dinner plans and the still-mysterious London fiasco echoing in her ears. The roads promised to be clear enough, and she had already checked in for her flight. Now all she needed was to make it out of the car in time to make one very important phone call.
*****
The airport was alive with a blend of hushed and bustling activity. Passengers hurried by, pulling rolling suitcases across gleaming tiled floors. Screens and signs displayed gate changes and last boarding calls, while staff in bright vests guided the flow of people. The sweet scent of cinnamon sugar from a nearby pretzel stand floated through the air, mixing with the sterile odor of floor polish and circulated air.
The aroma of coffee was also prevalent, with travelers clutching their cups for a caffeine jolt. People in various states of alertness moved in every direction, coffee in hand, children towing plush toys, and businesspeople fixated on their phones. The PA system crackled with announcements of gate changes and final boarding calls, blending with the noise of rolling luggage and the chatter among travelers. Occasionally, a ringtone or notification sound could be heard from those absorbed in their devices.
Olivia arrived at her gate with just five minutes to spare, her heart still racing from the hurried dash. She exhaled a breathy laugh, feeling a mix of relief and exhilaration, as she stood to the side near a tall window that framed the bustling tarmac. Her reflection in the glass revealed a face that was tired yet resolute, eyes bright with determination. Her turquoise sweater was slightly rumpled at the sleeves, and her messy bun drooped lazily to the left, giving her an air of casual elegance. She grinned at her reflection, thinking, "I really have to get better at this airport thing."
But she knew this time wasn't her fault. She had jolted awake at dawn, thrown her belongings into a suitcase in less than ten minutes, and sprinted through TSA with the urgency of a woman on a mission because she was. There was no time to find a seat or pause for a moment. The announcement for Business Class boarding would echo through the terminal any second now, and she had to be ready.
Her phone felt warm in her hand. She knew exactly what she wanted to do, and had known since halfway through the car ride. But it was a big step, an unfamiliar one, and her fingers hovered over his name longer than she'd admit. She bit her lip, steeled her nerves (steel, ha), and tapped Grayson Steel.
It rang twice.
Then that velvet voice met her ear.
"Mmm. This is the best call of my day. Now say it to my stupid ear."
Her brain blanked.
She was not ready for that.
"Umm… good morning," she managed.
"Not what I was looking for, Little Fox, but we can start there."
His voice dipped into something teasing and warm, something she felt in her knees more than her chest.
An overhead announcement cut through the moment.
"Now boarding Business Class passengers for Flight 1987 to Bozeman, Montana…"
She looked up.
Time's up.
Olivia inhaled deeply, the air dry and cold from the terminal vents.
"Okay. I don't have long...I'm boarding a plane right now. Not to Chicago. I'm heading to Bozeman, Montana. My brother needs help with his restaurant. He's short-staffed."
She paused, licking her lips, suddenly feeling every beat of her heart.
"I want you there with me."
There. She said it.
"I'll be there for a week. I know it's last minute. I don't know if you can make it. But I... I just missed you. And then there was... never mind. I'll tell you later."
She glanced up again. The line was moving now.
"I'm sorry I didn't text you yesterday. I was… distracted. But that won't happen again."
She stepped forward in line. It was now or never.
"I gotta go. I love you." And with that, she hung up.
Click.
No waiting. No checking for a response. She shifted her thumb to the app, scanned her boarding pass with a practiced flick, and walked through the jet bridge toward the plane.
—
The cabin air smelled like coffee and static, that weird recycled chill of too much ventilation. Olivia stowed her carry-on, buckled her belt, and sank back in her seat with a thud. The hangover buzzed faintly in her temples, dull but persistent, like a background headache from a memory you almost want to forget.
She tilted her head against the window as the plane began to taxi.
Four hours. Four hours to work. Focus. Clear the desk; then she could be fully in Montana, fully there for Liam.
No distractions. No excuses. But she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips.
I want you there with me.
The words had left her mouth before she could talk herself out of them.
And now... she'd wait.
Grayson
The call came in at 8:34 AM. Austin time.
Grayson was already stationed at headquarters, his sleeves meticulously rolled up to his elbows, a cup of coffee sitting untouched and cooling on his cluttered desk. His eyes were narrowed, fixated on a document he had read three times but whose contents refused to penetrate his foggy mind. His thoughts were trapped in an endless loop—twenty-four hours. That's the timeframe she'd mentioned. Twenty-four hours. Yet here he was, staring at the clock as it ticked past hour twenty-five.
He resolved to give her until noon, the plan he had conjured up amidst his restless thoughts. After that, he would either coax her back, demand her return, or resort to something drastic, perhaps hiring a private investigator and deploying the foremost trackers in the nation to locate her. The previous night, he had picked up his phone eight times, his thumb hovering above the call button. He almost dialed her number, nearly pleaded, and almost risked unraveling everything they had.
But he didn't make the call. Instead, he turned to the bottle, seeking solace in the numbing embrace of alcohol. Later, in the enveloping darkness of the night, he yearned for a different kind of release. Her voice resonated in his mind like a haunting melody, each note clear and lingering. The soft whisper of her scent clung to memories of sheets, yet to be used, elusive yet persistent, like a ghostly presence that refused to fade away. It was pathetic. And ultimately, it provided no true relief.
So, by morning light, he packed a bag with the essentials, setting his resolve into motion. He then rang George, instructing him to prepare similarly. George, accustomed to such requests, didn't probe for details. He merely sighed and queried, "Two coats or one, sir?"
Now, the phone in Grayson's hand vibrated with life, her name illuminating the screen. He barely managed to utter a greeting before her voice—sweet, urgent, unfiltered—spilled through the line, filling the void that had plagued him.
"Mmm. This is the best call of my day. Now say it to my stupid ear." he chuckled.
A pause. Her breath caught. Then—"Umm… good morning."
He grinned instantly, leaning back in his chair, letting her nervous energy coat him like sunlight through storm clouds.
"Not what I was looking for, Little Fox, but we can start there."
He let the sound of her voice sink in, velvety and hesitant. He could work with that. He needed her to say it.
But what he got next blindsided him.
"Now boarding Business Class passengers for Flight 1987 to Bozeman, Montana…"
Grayson sat bolt upright, the phone tighter in his hand.
"I don't have long," she rushed. "I'm boarding a plane right now. Not to Chicago. I'm heading to Bozeman, Montana. My brother needs help with his restaurant. He's short-staffed."
What? What is happening
"I want you there with me."
He blinked. Froze. Like brain-freeze—sharp, sudden, disorienting. She just… asked him to come?
"I'll be there for a week. I know it's last minute. I don't know if you can make it. But I... I just missed you. And then there was—never mind. I'll tell you later."
Her words were racing now, stacking on top of each other, panicked but honest.
"I'm sorry I didn't text you yesterday. I was… distracted. But that won't happen again."
His heart was pounding. She was unraveling everything he'd been bracing for.
"I gotta go. I love you."
And then—click.
She was gone.
Grayson stared at the phone, still pressed to his ear. "Little Fox…"
She said it. Again. Out loud this time. And hung up before he could respond.
"I don't know if I'm more intrigued or frustrated," he muttered, rising fast and pacing the width of his office like a man caged.
He exhaled hard and checked the time. Okay. He didn't know where she was; more importantly, he knew where she was going. That was something.
He crossed the room and yanked open the door. "George!"
George appeared almost immediately, iPad already in hand, tie still straight, because of course it was.
"Yes, sir?"
"Cancel my day. Everything in-office. Move team meetings virtual and make sure I get any documents I need uploaded to my cloud drive. You or someone in legal can file the rest."
George nodded, fingers flying across the screen.
"Now… book the fastest, most direct flight to Bozeman, Montana. I don't care how. Make it happen ASAP."
George blinked. "Bozeman, Montana?"
"Yes, George. And I think we're going to need a damn coat it's October. Call my tailor. Have one sent over now. I've got a thirty-minute meeting. I want everything ready when I'm out. That clear?"
"Crystal, sir."
"Good. Because this—" Grayson smiled, breathless and buzzing—"This is the best damn news I've had all week."
With a determined stride that sent interns scurrying like startled birds, he made his way toward the conference room. The door swung open smoothly as he entered. "Let's keep this short and sweet. Thirty minutes tops," he announced to the assembled group, already settling into his chair with practiced efficiency.
Marybelle's eyebrows arched in amused surprise as she observed his demeanor. He responded with a broad grin and quickly texted her.
She told me she loves me.
Her eyes widened in surprise before she rose gracefully, taking the reins of the meeting, likely to prevent him from bursting with excitement for all to see.
Exactly thirty minutes later, he emerged from the room with the confident air of a man holding a one-way ticket to his destiny. George and Marybelle walked alongside him, flanking him on either side.
"Sir," George said briskly, "The Flight leaves in forty-five. We need to move. The car is ready. The coat is in the back. The documents are secure."
"Good man."
George handed him the coat and his phone as they neared the elevator.
"Grayson," Marybelle said, brow furrowed. "Where are you even going? New York?"
He hit the down button. "I need you to cover with Mom. Tell her I'm going to Daniel's housewarming party in Boston. Technically, that's where I was supposed to go. But plans changed."
"Changed how?"
"My girl asked me to help her," he said with a small, reverent shrug. "So I am."
They stepped inside. The doors slid shut.
"You're really all in, huh?" she asked softly.
He didn't hesitate, his voice steady and determined. "Yeah, I am. And she's… she's a bit unpredictable sometimes, like a gust of wind that changes direction without warning.
This is the first time she's reached out to me, Belle.
It's not just about her affection; it's about something deeper." Grayson took a deep, steadying breath, his chest rising and falling as he gathered his thoughts.
"If I don't go... I think something crucial might get lost. I might miss a pivotal opportunity. I believe she would still love me or care for me, but this is that crucial turning point in our relationship, you know?" His eyes held a fervent determination. "It's the chance to become the man she can rely on. The moment when everything between us begins to transform."
Belle nodded slowly. "Okay. Big brother, I got you."
He smiled gratefully.
"But I am using your house for a party this weekend. Payment, plus interest."
"What—? You know what? Fine. Just don't wreck anything."
She smirked. "No promises."
He pulled her in for a hug as the elevator dinged.
"Thanks again. I love you."
"Bring her back so I can meet her."
"You will. Soon."
He stepped out into the Austin sun, trench coat in hand, heart racing ahead of him like it already knew the way to Montana.