"I wouldn't ask you to."

"You just did! I know the sound when I hear it, because I've heard it before!"

Jamie's hands curved around the armrests until his knuckles showed through the skin. "I'm not your ex-husband," he growled.

"No," she said quietly. Then louder. "No. You aren't. But you are just like him."

"That's ridiculous," he snapped, shoving up from the chair.

"You're charming and clever and handsome. You tell people what they want to hear so that they'll like you. And you want to use me for what it will bring you. You want me to give up my dreams to make yours happen."

"I don't want you to give up anything! It'd be just what you wanted. I thought you'd like the idea!"

"Why? Because it would be easier for me?"

"Yes!"

She scoffed. "Easier than coming up with my own plans? Easier than saving my own money? Easier than risking everything to do what I want?"

"Jesus Christ!" he shouted. "It's just an offer. I'm not trying to steal your future. Shouldn't you be flattered that I respect you enough to want to go into business with you?"

"Flattered that I make you feel mature? Let me tell you something, Jamie. If you need someone to help you grow up, you wouldn't exactly make an ideal business partner."

"Oh, yeah?"

Despite her anger, the hard smile on his face pricked her conscience, but she wasn't going to lie. "Yeah."

"Well." His laugh was rough as rock. "I'm sure that's exactly how my brother feels. I'll let him know you concur."

"If this is about you growing up and standing on your own, you can't lean on me."

"I wasn't planning to lean on you, damn it. I wanted to hire you, just like I'd hire a chef or an architect or a designer. Why the hell are you turning this into proof of my weakness?"

"You're the one who said I made you want to be better. As if I were your crutch. But I'm not that woman, Jamie. I'm not the woman who wants to dedicate herself to you until you don't need her anymore."

"I am not your ex-husband," he snarled again.

"Fine. But I'm still his ex-wife. And if you think I'm going to sign up to be a man's helpmate again, you're a fool." She took a deep breath and made herself see him as Jamie and not just another man asking her to give something up. "You helped me, too," she said softly. "You helped me see something more inside myself. But it's time for us to move on."

His angry pacing stopped and his head came up to meet her gaze. "You're breaking up with me? Right now?"

"Jamie...it's not a breakup. We had an agreement-"

"Fuck you," he said. Instead of anger, the curse was filled with disbelief.

She tamped down another jolt of guilt. "If you decide to go through with this, I'll still do the portfolio for you. I want to help, Jamie."

"I wouldn't want to use you as a crutch," he snapped. She started to deny his words, but it was too late. Jamie spun around and disappeared into the hallway.

Olivia followed, but she moved slowly. She had no idea what to say to him. She couldn't make this better. How could she? He'd admitted that his attraction to her was tied in with his desire to grow up. Part of the reason he liked her was the thing she hadn't even wanted him to notice. That she was older. That she was half-used-up already by a man who'd seen her as too serious, just as Jamie did.

A serious woman whose attributes could be reliably broken down on a spreadsheet. A woman whose body was an afterthought compared to what she brought to the business table. Next time, she'd demand a man who needed nothing from her. Then she'd know she was wanted.

When she reached her bedroom, Jamie was already dressed and lacing up his boots. "I meant what I said," she whispered. "Let me help you with the planning."

"I don't need your help," he lied, yanking the laces one last time before he tied them. He rose and brushed right past her as if she weren't quite real. "I'll see you around, Olivia."

"Jamie, wait." She hurried after him and reached for his arm. "I'm sorry, but-"

"This isn't a breakup, so save the drawn-out goodbye."

When she tried to put her arm around him, he stepped away.

"See you in two weeks," he muttered.

"Two weeks?"

"Book club. I'll be sure to wear my kilt, since you like it so much." He paused at the door and when his eyes touched hers they seemed armored with ice. "You...and all the others."

He left quietly, the door closing with only a whisper as he stepped into the blank dark.

Olivia stood there for a hundred heartbeats. A thousand. She stood and stared until the curtains began to glow with the sunrise. Then she took a deep breath and walked to the office. She closed the file and shut down the computer and turned off the lights. Then she stripped down her bed and loaded the sheets into the washer.

By 6:00 a.m. she was dressed and out the door for her daily run, right on schedule. Things were back to the way they used to be, and she tried not to hate the thought.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO.

HE SHOWED UP FOR CLASS.

Olivia couldn't believe it. She'd thought he would avoid her, thought he wouldn't want to see her. But there he was, typing away as he always did. Although now, when she stole looks at him, he wasn't looking back. Maybe her first instinct had been right. He didn't want to see her, so he didn't bother looking.

But she couldn't stop herself. He might be smiling a little less today, but he was no less handsome. And ironically...today, without that mischievous grin and flirtatious sparkle in his eyes, he looked older. More mature. Just as he'd wanted. But it hurt Olivia's heart to see him like this, as serious and boxed-in as everyone else.

By the end of the class, she was staring at the clock with the strong suspicion that it was deliberately dragging its hands.

"Ms. Bishop?"

She looked past the student in front of her to steal another glance at Jamie. He was talking with the girl sitting next to him. "Hmm?"

"The numbers?"

Olivia forced her attention to the boy leaning over her table. "I'm sorry. Yes, you've done a great job. How many sources did you check?" She made herself concentrate on the student and his project, but the shuffling of papers around her spoke of impatience. She glanced up at the clock.

"All right. You may-" But her eyes found Jamie again and she stuttered. He was already moving up the stairs, his back a wide wall against her. "If you haven't finished your estimates, please do so before the next class. And be sure to review the new information I've posted online. You'll need to know it before Thursday."

Several students moved toward her with questions, but Jamie didn't even look back. The door closed behind him and she had to swallow a heavy lump in her throat.

She didn't know what this grief was. She couldn't love him, not so quickly. She couldn't feel betrayed; he'd never promised her anything. So what was this awful ache? And why did she feel so guilty? He'd spoken just as carelessly as she had. Though it was possible she'd been more than careless. He'd wounded and shocked her, and she'd lashed out.

Olivia faked enough enthusiasm to get through the students' questions, but she breathed a huge sigh of relief when the last one left. She quickly packed up her papers and her computer and hurried toward her office.

If she just kept moving forward, she'd leave this behind. There had never been a future for them. It had only been temporary. And in all honesty, they'd both gotten what they'd wanted. Olivia had discovered her fun side, and Jamie had gotten his plans. He just hadn't wanted her.

That was fine. She was keeping busy. She just hadn't expected to see him.

Now she wanted to go home and hide, but after her divorce she'd never allowed herself to spend any time wallowing and she wasn't going to start now. There were plans to be made. Her plans.

Setting her mouth in a determined line, Olivia opened her office door, but the sight of the man sitting there made her yelp in shock.

"Hell of a way to greet me," Victor said.

"I wasn't expecting you." She narrowed her eyes. "And I wasn't expecting anyone to be waiting in my private office."

He winked. "I thought tongues would wag if I waited outside."

She shoved the last of her shock away and sat down as if his presence didn't bother her. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm great."

"Are you still seeing your young man?"

Olivia nearly growled at him. "Why are you here, Victor?"

"Your mother called me."

She almost dropped the book she was sliding back onto the bookshelf. "My mother? She's on vacation."

"I know, but she decided she couldn't wait until she got back. You upset her."

"Well, the sentiment was returned." She was trying her best to sound bored, but she hated this. Whenever her mom called Victor it felt like a conspiracy against Olivia. A strategy to turn her into what they wanted. Probably because that's exactly what it was. "Spit it out," Olivia said. "What is she disappointed about now?"

"Not disappointed. Worried."

She rolled her eyes as she slipped her laptop from the case and set it squarely on the desk pad. "Fine. Worried. Just get to the point."

"She said you're thinking of starting your own business."

Olivia stiffened and had to bite back a snarl, but she met his gaze and let him see her anger. "I'm not thinking of it. I'm going to do it."

His mouth quirked up in that familiar, pitying smile. "Olivia..."

"Don't."

The smile stayed but the edges of his eyes tightened. "You're going to quit your job and risk everything on a fifteen-year-old dream?"

"I'm not a fool, Victor, whatever you might think."

"Are you sure? Because it seems like you haven't read the news in the past few years. This isn't the time to start a business, O."

"I asked you to stop calling me that a year ago."

"Sorry." He flashed a charming smile. "Force of habit."

She clasped her hands together to help fight the temptation to slap him. He'd no doubt call the police and press charges for domestic violence...with, of course, an offer to drop all charges if she'd only be reasonable about a reunion. Still, it might be worth it, just to feel the hot sting of his skin under her palm. But it wouldn't be worth losing her job.

"Seriously, Olivia, don't do this. You'll lose everything. Your mother is frantic."

"I thought you wanted me to lose everything."

"I told you I wasn't the one who called. I don't want you ruined, which is exactly what you'll be if you chase after this dream."

She sighed in exasperation. "Do you know nothing about me? I'm not going to throw everything at this like an idiot. I'm saving money. I'll take on four classes in the fall."

"If Lewis can give you four."

"Regardless, this is a long-term goal. A really long-term goal, considering I gave it up for you."

Victor put on his sympathetic face. "I know I asked a lot of you. I've been selfish."

Well, this was a new admission. In the past, he'd only tried to convince her she'd been mistaken. Mistaken about his motives and his feelings and his actions.

"I'm going to do this, Victor, no matter what my mother wants. No matter what you think. I don't need to be protected from myself."

His head cocked, and he studied her, his lovely gray eyes warm with affection. She'd always loved his eyes. It hadn't occurred to her until much too late that he knew their effect on women. They looked so damn sincere. "You really want this, don't you?"

"Yes," she said wearily. "I really do."

He sat back in his chair and gazed upon her as if she were a child ready to leave the nest. "Then I'll support you any way I can."

"Gee, thanks," she muttered, feeling churlish and self-righteous all at the same time.

When Victor leaned forward, his eyes grew even more sincere. He opened his hands on the desk, palms up, as if he were offering the world. "What can I do to help make this happen?"

"For God's sake, Victor. I don't need your help. I'm totally capable."

"You might not need me, but I want to help. I love you, Olivia."

Her stomach burned with sudden rage. "You know who I think needs your help? And your love? Your pregnant girlfriend."