Billion Dollar Beast - Olivia Hayle Page 0,65

like one of those punches that Nick wanted me to throw in my living room. He goes after what he wants, and so would I.

And if he believed we couldn’t work together and still be involved, I’ve just made it really, really simple. I’d rather have him than this job.

But he doesn’t pick up when I call to tell him that.

He doesn’t pick up the day after, either. My two texts—one polite, one mildly frustrated—go unanswered. Is he still upset from when he’d stormed out of my apartment?

It’s hard to ignore the feeling that you’re a fool. It creeps up when you least expect it, resistant to common sense and rationality. We’d had one little fight. Hardly even a quarrel. Practically a disagreement. A discussion. And then he’d run?

It didn’t seem like the Nick I’d gotten to know, the man who steered his company with an iron grip, who was competitive to a fault, who was proud and private and shockingly loyal.

But it did seem like the actions of a man who had a decade’s experience of keeping women at arm’s length. And that thought made me feel more foolish than any other. That I’d had the arrogance to think I’d be the one to make him change.

On the fourth day post Puppygeddon, as I was beginning to think of it, I ask Cole to come over to my apartment. With no work and no Nick, there has been nothing to distract me from my own business plans.

And it’s time to throw another one of those punches.

“What’s this?” Cole asks, standing on the threshold to my office. “I didn’t even know this room existed—you’ve kept it closed for years. It’s not a spare closet?”

“Nope. I’ve been working on something.” I’m standing by the rack of clothing, nerves racing through me. I feel like I’m seven again and asking him to play with me, scared he’ll say no.

Cole steps inside. The change when he starts to realize what he’s seeing is instantaneous. His face grows sharp, his business persona, the one I’ve seen him adopt a thousand times. “Blair, what is this?”

So I tell him. I lay out the entire launch schedule I’ve plotted out over the last couple of days. I show him pieces and sketches. Packaging design. I even hand him the spreadsheet of my financial calculations.

My brother reads it all—every word, every cent, every thing he’s shown. The quiet concentration on his face is the greatest compliment he could pay me, even if he hasn’t commented yet.

And then the questions start. Where do you store your stock? Who’s your distributor? What’s the long-term vision?

I answer all of it to the best of my ability, and when I’m done, he sinks into my office chair. “Well,” he says. “I’m very impressed, Blair.”

“You are?”

“Yes. You’ve mapped it all out meticulously. There are some areas where I think you should hire outside expertise, but overall… you’re set.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m hurt, actually.”

“Hurt?”

“You must have investors already, but it’s the first time I’m hearing about this. My money not good enough?”

I shake my head. “No investors.”

“How are you paying for all this?” And then, his narrowed eyes. “Your inheritance?”

If I speak quickly, perhaps I can pre-empt his anger. “I wanted to do it on my own. If this doesn’t work out, if it’s not a success… I couldn’t have you or someone else take the financial hit again.”

Great. Now he looks offended. “You thought I wouldn’t help you?”

“I knew you would. Cole, I’d love for you to invest, truly. After I’ve launched—and only if you look through the financials with your advisors and make a decision on the basis of that.”

He’s quiet for a beat. And when he speaks, there’s something in his voice—respect? “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Of course. It’s risky as hell, but yes. Dad and I once had this exact same conversation.” Cole smiles at the memory. “I’ll help you in any way I can—as much as you’ll let me.”

“Thank you.”

“Start by getting an assistant and a centralized storage location,” he says, softly shaking his head. “Two years, and not a word to me. It’ll take me a while to forgive you, you know.”

His voice is teasing, so I make mine light as well. “I’ll do your chores for a whole week.”

It works—he laughs. “Make it two.”

We talk about the puppy, still nameless and too cute for this world. About Skye’s upcoming book and Cole’s trip to New York. So I convince myself it’s casual, when