Page 7 of Oliver
I knew he’d be different, just like I was different, but nothing could have prepared me for how much he’d changed. He used to fill every quiet moment with excited chatter about science or my terrible sketches, but now he just watched me, his gaze steady. Those deep brown eyes, exposed without the wire-framed glasses he’d always worn, pinned me with a professionalism that made my stomach twist.
“I need someone to act as a buffer. You know, against my meddling family?” It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the pleading out of my voice, and I shifted in my seat, tucking my hair behind my ear as I forced my gaze to stay up. “I’m attending as the wedding planner, not just a guest, and this wedding is a big deal. I can’t allow any unnecessary distractions, especially not from…” I trailed off, unwilling to say the name that summoned a wave of panic from the darkest recesses of my mind.
Something shifted in Oliver's expression. It was subtle, just a slight tightening around his eyes, but it was there.
“I’ll need specifics,” he said, his voice distant and professional despite the shift in his gaze. “Dates, times, expectations.”
The request steadied me. Schedules, I could do—it was my expertise. I flipped open my planner, the bright pink cover a lifeline.
“The wedding itself is in eight weeks. It’s a high-profile event.” I didn't add that "high-profile" was an understatement. My cousin Parisa was marrying Darryl Winters, heir to the Winters Hotel Group. The guest list included two state senators, a handful of celebrities, and enough wealthy entrepreneurs to fund a small nation. The wedding would be featured inModern Bride, with a six-page spread already contracted.
For my fledgling company, this was the make-or-break moment I'd been working toward for three years.
“We’ll be heading down to Norman in six weeks,” I continued, and I could swear I saw a tick in Oliver’s jaw when I mentioned our hometown. But he was so quick to regain his careful mask of indifference that I had no choice but to brush it off. “We’ll be there just short of two weeks for prep and wedding events. If you join me, you’ll need to be discreet, reliable, and professional.”
"I understand the concept of my job, Miss Nazarian."
“I know. Your reviews were glowing,” I said without thinking, mortification flooding me when I realized I’d revealed how deep I’d dived into his profile. But, instead of stopping, my brain decided I should keep talking. “Your experience with maintaining boundaries, your physical presence, your proven ability to handle difficult situations professionally, like problematic exes…” I trailed off when Oliver frowned, his eyes flashing with something dark.
"Ryan Calloway’s going to be there?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.
I nodded, the name sending an involuntary shiver through me. My fingers tightened around my coffee mug as a familiar knot formed in my stomach.
"He's a groomsman,” I whispered.
"I see." The words were flat, but something sharp flickered in his eyes.
“This is my golden ticket, Oliver.” I couldn’t keep the pleading out of my voice this time. The mere idea of facing Ryan without something tangible between us was enough to erase any shred of pride I had. I couldn't afford distractions. I couldn't afford mistakes. And I definitely couldn't afford to have Ryan Calloway derail everything I'd worked for. “I need to be able to concentrate on my work without..." I exhaled sharply, reminding myself, once again, that this was a business pitch, not a favor. I came prepared; I just needed to get a grip. “This wedding will open doors that’ll make everything I've sacrificed for my career worth it.”
I'd poured my life savings into Lumina Event Management, worked sixteen-hour days for months on end, lived on ramen and coffee while watching former colleagues from big, established companies climb the corporate ranks and bank apaycheck I could only dream of, while I'd taken out loans that kept me awake at night.
When Parisa had chosen me over the prestigious firms her future-in-laws had suggested, I knew it was my chance not only to make a name for myself, but to prove to my family, and myself, that I could stand on my own two feet—that I didn’t need anyone to rescue me anymore.
Except Oliver.
“Your main mission would be to run interference so I can get the job done without interruption.”
Oliver stared at me as if he knew “interruption” meant unwanted advances. My stomach churned. My aunt and cousin had been not-so-subtly hinting that this wedding would be a perfect opportunity to rekindle my relationship with Ryan. Knowing Ryan, he’d probably been feeding them stories of how much he missed me, how good we were together, how he’s forgiven me for leaving him to go to college, while conveniently skipping the part where my parents had to sneak me out of town to get me there without him trying to stop me.
My hands shook every time I thought about being alone with him again.
I made a last-ditch effort, appealing to the big, soft heart that I desperately believed still beat behind that broad, chiseled chest. “Please, Oliver, I need your help.”
Oliver seemed to consider my words, his expression giving nothing away. Then he looked up, meeting my gaze with a blank stare.
"No."
The single word hung in the air between us.
He got up to leave, and I felt panic rising in my chest. I couldn't let him walk away. I needed him—not just anyone from RAD, buthimspecifically.
I forced myself to stay calm, my mind racing for a rational move. Then I remembered…
"Actually," I said, keeping my voice professional despite my racing pulse. "According to RAD's booking system, I have you for forty-five minutes. I'd hate to have to complain to your boss about you walking out on a client mid-meeting."
He stopped, his shoulders tensing, then turned back and pulled out the chair with controlled precision.
"Still a bully, I see," he said quietly.
