Olivia
Everything was just…perfect. Everything seemed to be working out for the better. I couldn't really quite explain it. After the amazing night I had with Ben, everything just started to look up, and I couldn't be happier.
"Your story's doing big numbers again, Olivia," Lucy informed me over a video call as I was doing my make-up. "Your signature style is still a big hit with the people, I see."
"Thanks, Lucy! I honestly thought I was just going to be a one-hit wonder," I admitted. It wasn't a rare occurrence, after all. A lot of people who went viral often disappeared into irrelevance so quickly that it didn't give them a chance to enjoy the limelight. "It's a relief to know that I'm not messing things up anymore, I guess."
Lucy then laughed out loud, dismissing my thoughts with a flick of her hand.
"I always knew you had it in you, Olivia. You have the same fire I had back in my early days," she said, and I honestly felt good about that. If I was going to become as skilled and respected as Lucy one day, then I would have truly made my journalism dreams come true.
"You've always been so nice to me, Lucy," I told her truthfully. "How is it over there in the newsroom? Anything juicy going on?"
"Oh, you have no idea. I'll tell you all about it when you get back. You won't believe what happened!" Lucy suddenly looked at me curiously. "By the way, where are you going, all dressed up?"
I snapped the cap back on my red lipstick.
"Henrik Guzman invited the whole OVT team to dinner as thanks for doing the story," I said, as I blended my makeup a bit more with a big brush. For a cabin, they had really good lighting for make-up. "Unfortunately, Mark said the crew had no interest in a fancy dinner. So it's just me and Mr. Oviatt."
Lucy nodded in understanding.
"Well, you can't keep the boss waiting. I'll let you go now. Talk to you later."
"Bye," I said, turning off the video call. Now that I was left alone with my thoughts, the memories of last night came crashing back, pulling me under like the warm water of the springs.
The way Ben had said—no,growled—"You're mine," still sent shivers down my spine and had my legs clenching against the throbbing in my core.
Really, the whole situation was a bit overwhelming. I couldn't forget what an asshole he'd been to me in my very early moments at OVT. It was barely more than a month ago, after all. But still, there was something about our time here. He opened up to me just enough to show me a hint of a softer side; the side that he hid so well from the rest of the world.
I was terrified to realize that what I was feeling wasn't just lust or infatuation.
I actually liked Ben Oviatt.
Even when he was an asshole, I understood the context now. Sure, he could probably deliver things in a better way. But he had high standards, and not just for everyone around him, but for himself, too. His drive and passion were very inspiring. And his awareness that he had a leg up in the world when he got started was unusual. I felt like so many people focused on being self-made; they didn't acknowledge all their privilege. Ben was aware of his privilege. But he also seemed to know he could have coasted for the rest of his life. But he wanted to build something on his own. So he took what he was given and made it better.
It was the whole package that made Ben attractive: His body, of course, but also his perspectives and his power. Or more accurately, how he wielded his power. These were all things I wanted in a partner, but I had never found.
It was just Ben.
And he was incredibly mature, which I was drawn to. I had been dating men in their late twenties, like me, but Ben was just past thirty-five. Not an insurmountable age difference by any means. And it was pretty impressive what he had accomplished in his relatively short years. Most people didn't accomplish as much as he did in a lifetime. It was all due to his view on life. He had a different perception about work, about life, about everything—and all of that was fascinating to me. I actually wanted to stay close to him, even though I knew of all the risks and complications it would bring. It wasn't exactly illegal to date my boss, but I knew it wasn't celebrated, either.
I wondered how Ben was feeling. He clearly had a lot of morals and integrity, but, when you boiled all the facts down, he was having sex with a reporter from his network. By virtue of being a man, the risks to his career and future were far less than they were for me, but still…
Okay, I was headed into overthinking territory. I was already there, really. This was not the night for this. Tonight, Ben and I were going to this dinner hosted by Henrik. It was our last night in Norway, and I didn't want to waste it by sulking.
About an hour later, I walked back to the main hotel area ofIsparadis. The hotel had a Michelin-star restaurant and, to say it was gorgeous, was an understatement. The outside of the building was very slick, but still kept a cabin feel with honey-stained wood and massive windows that brought the incredible scenery inside. Walking into the restaurant was just as breathtaking. The warm wood of the walls made the massive space feel cozy and intimate. Large black fixtures hung from the ceiling, modern and cool, but warmed with electric candles. The floor was covered with gorgeous, expensive looking carpets. The massive windows took three of the walls, with the kitchen on the other side. Yellow and orange light from the setting sun streamed in, making the whole place glow.
I walked up to the hostess podium, with a beautiful hostess standing behind it. She was tall and had gorgeous, long blonde hair and the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen.
"Good evening, Miss Taylor," she said with a cool smile that still somehow was welcoming. "We're so glad you could join us today at Paradise Cuisine."
She stepped from behind the podium, and standing next to her, I felt miniature. God, were all Norwegians this gorgeous? Because everyone I had met on this trip certainly made me feel that way.
The hostess led me to the back of the space and down a short corridor that hadn't been immediately visible. We walked into a private room that was just as outstanding as the rest of the restaurant. The same decor and vibe carried in here, but my focus was immediately on Ben. He was standing by the private bar, talking with Henrik.
Ben looked up and I gave him a small wave. I glanced next to me, prepared to thank the hostess for showing me here, but she was already gone. Damn, she was good.
My attention traveled back to Ben, who was staring at me intently, still talking to Henrik. Hendrik laughed at something Ben said, saw where Ben's eyes went, and then turned towards me.
"There she is! The woman of the hour!" Henrik beckoned and walked over toward me. He gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek. The volume of his voice had attracted everyone's attention. Fortunately, there were just a half a dozen people in the room, so I didn't feel too much like a zoo animal. "You, Miss Olivia Taylor, are a star," he continued to gush. I felt the color rising in my cheeks as I gave him a polite smile.
"What did I tell you all? She really is a star, no? The story she did gave over eight million views in twenty-four hours." Henrik was practically shouting with excitement. The room erupted in slight applause. I had only been in Norway a few days, but already I could tell that Henrik was somewhat of an anomaly with his effusiveness. The rest of the room was polite and enthusiastic, but in a much more subdued way. Which, quite frankly, I appreciated.
Henrik invited Ben and I to sit down at the table. He gestured for me to sit next to him, with Ben on my other side. Oh boy, this was going to be an interesting night.
I could feel Ben's eyes on me. We hadn't really talked since the hot springs, but I could feel energy radiating off of him. As usual in public, his face was passive and I had no way of telling if that was friendly or angry energy. It had to be friendly, right?
Henrik was absorbed in conversation with the person on his other side, so I decided to take a chance.
"Can I help you, Mr. Oviatt?" I murmured quietly, desperate not to draw attention.
Ben smiled—really smiled—and my heart flipped. He leaned in close to my ear.
"You look beautiful tonight," he said in a low voice that betrayed his lust. God, he smelled good. I had to forcibly stop myself from swaying into him right there at the table. I kept my eyes straight ahead, knowing I'd be gone for sure if I looked at his chiseled jaw this close right now. His lips were right against my ear. If I saw those eyes, I'd throw myself at him right in front of this room of people.
I felt the temperature of the room go up about a thousand degrees and had never been so grateful for a simple black dress. Although, if I was honest, I knew I looked good. The dress had long sleeves and stopped just above my knees, but dipped down to the small of my back. It had been a splurge when I bought it, but I was sure glad I did. I pinned one side of my long copper hair with a vintage emerald encrusted comb my grandmother had given me before she died. I hadn't even known why I packed it, except that it was the single fanciest thing I had in my possession, so I thought it would come in handy. Now that Ben couldn't take his eyes off of it, I was happy for the intuition.
"So, you liked the movie last night?" I asked, glancing at him, hoping he understood my code. I was sorry I did look at him, because he was, in a word, gorgeous. I shifted my knee slightly to the left and rested it against his. My eyes fluttered shut at the contact of his pants against my bare skin.
I risked another glance. It wasn't even fair how incredibly attractive this man was. He always looked amazing, but tonight…well, tonight it was all just extra. He had on a slim suit in a gorgeous, deep maroon shade with a crisp black shirt, no tie, the collar slightly undone. The color made his eyes sparkle and something about his hair looked extra lush. His skin was also slightly sun-kissed and flushed from our skiing lesson.
He nodded in response, his eyes darkening a shade and turning to an intensity that felt slightly dangerous. The muscles in his throat worked up and down, and he clenched his jaw.
"Good. I liked it, too," I said, barely above a whisper. I had no air left in my body to actually form real sounds, like words.
He held my gaze, intense and dark, for another long moment. Before he visibly relaxed and sat back in his chair.
"I'm glad," he said with a smile, and turned to the rest of the group. But not before he dropped his right hand on my knee. I felt the burning hot touch radiate throughout my body from that one spot and I desperately grabbed for my water glass. With a squeeze, he let my knee go and I gasped for oxygen.