Victoria Dahl - Bad Boys Do

“Great to meet you,” Jamie said, holding out his hand to Allison first, then Victor. Victor’s grip was tight as a vise.

“Victor Bishop,” the man said very clearly, hitting Jamie with the exact amount of shock he’d hoped for.

Bishop.

Jamie made his face stay neutral and pleasant. He didn’t aim an alarmed look at Olivia, even though everything inside him wanted to pull her aside and ask for some quick clarification.

“So …” Victor said, giving Jamie’s hand one last ridiculous squeeze. “How did you come to know Olivia?”

“I served her a few beers,” he said dryly.

“Beers?” Victor shot Olivia an incredulous look. “You don’t drink beer.”

“She drinks my beer,” Jamie offered with a smile. He finally dared a glance at Olivia. Her cheeks were flushed. Her hand white-knuckled around the stem of the empty wineglass. “I gave her a few lessons.”

She met his gaze and tried to smile, but the result was a tense grimace. “Jamie is part of the Donovan Brothers Brewery family,” she said.

“But I’ve got nothing against wine. Here, Olivia.” He plucked the empty from her hand and handed her a new one. He was tempted to ask Victor how he’d come to know Olivia, but Jamie figured he already knew. They had the same last name and the guy definitely wasn’t giving off a sibling vibe.

“Well,” Victor said. “It’s nice to see you dating again, Olivia.” His words didn’t quite sound genuine. In fact, they sounded pretty damned forced, not to mention patronizing as hell.

Jamie looked him over a little more thoroughly. Victor Bishop was older than Olivia by at least ten years, and he dressed as if he were trying out for the part of “stereotypical college professor” in a local theater production. Pressed slacks, gray button-down shirt, hound-stooth sport coat, brown suede shoes. But everything looked very expensive.

“So, Victor,” Jamie said into the uncomfortable silence. “I haven’t heard much about you.” He thought he detected a faint wheeze from Olivia. “I’m guessing you work at the U?”

“Absolutely. I’m a professor of economics.”

Jamie smiled. “And you, Allison? Do you work at the U or are you an innocent bystander like me?”

“Oh,” the girl said, looking up at Victor as if checking on the answer. “I guess I’m an innocent bystander now. I was a teaching assistant last semester.”

Victor’s teaching assistant, Jamie would guess. He didn’t need to rely on his years of bartending psychology to pick up on these undercurrents. He wondered exactly how long Olivia had been divorced. As if he’d attracted her attention with his thoughts, Olivia tucked her arm around his. Victor’s gaze darted down.

“We’d better go find Rashid,” she said with false cheer. “I haven’t congratulated him on his new position at Stanford.”

They strolled away as if they were searching for Rashid, but Jamie led her into the kitchen. There were some catering staff around, but no guests. As soon as they were out of sight of the party, Jamie let her go and stepped back. When he crossed his arms, she looked at the floor. “So,” he said.

She didn’t look up.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Her hands twisted together, but she said nothing.

“I’m guessing that Victor is your ex-husband?” She looked more than a little ashamed as she nodded, so he was confident he’d figured out the rest of it. “And he’s the reason you invited me along?”

Olivia swallowed. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean … it’s not …”

Right. Jamie felt more pissed off than he would’ve expected. His first real date in nearly a year and she was faking it. Shit. This was a new experience. “Well, I’m flattered, I guess.”

“Jamie—”

“Your ex-husband is playing the field with younger women. You thought you’d show off with a younger man—”

“It’s not that!” she interrupted. “Or … not only that. It’s more about me than you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

She crumpled a little, her shoulders dropping, and Jamie realized it was the first time he’d seen her without perfect posture. “I’m sorry,” she said. “He wasn’t supposed to be here.”

He was a little embarrassed about how much that cheered him up. “You didn’t know he’d be here? Really?”

“No, not that. It was wrong. I know it was. I wasn’t playing a game, or I didn’t mean to, anyway. I only agreed to come to the party because he was supposed to be gone. I’ve got a new life now. I didn’t want to see him. When I found out he was coming … I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you.”

He didn’t bother to disagree.

Olivia took a gulp from her wineglass, then set her shoulders back as if she’d realized she was slouching. “I apologize. I just wanted to loosen up a little.”

“In front of your ex?”

“Yes, in front of my ex! He …”

Jamie saw the way she swallowed hard, her jaw clenching, and he worried she was about to cry. “Listen—”

“That girl he’s with. Allison. She’s not the first girl like that he’s dated. And marriage didn’t keep him from indulging.”

“Ah.”

“Predictable, isn’t it? But I’m not bitter anymore. I don’t hate him. I swear it’s not like that. I want to have a life that has nothing to do with him.”

“Except when it does?”

Olivia shrugged and finished her wine before setting the glass carefully on the counter. While she was still turned away from him, she murmured, “He told me I wasn’t any fun.”

Jamie ran a hand through his hair, wondering if it would be rude to leave right at this moment. He was probably justified. Surely she wouldn’t object. He’d be kind enough to drop her off at her place first. “What?”

She turned to face him. “When I caught him cheating, he told me it was because I wasn’t any fun.”

Jamie grimaced. “Jesus Christ.”

“And you know what? I’m not fun. But that doesn’t mean I can’t try to be.”

“You want him back?” Jamie asked, his voice so loud that she blinked in shock.

“No! That’s not it at all! I’m just trying to enjoy my life. Figure out who I am. I was only twenty-two when I met him. I’m not that girl anymore. So who am I?” She met his gaze head-on and, for the first time, she let him see something of herself. Something warm and vulnerable. “Am I the kind of woman who goes on a date with someone like you?”

“Someone like me?” Jamie ordered himself not to feel primal satisfaction at the way her eyes warmed.

“You’re young. Handsome. Purposefully charming.”

“I like to think of it as naturally charming.”

“Oh, it’s natural,” she said, her mouth quirking wryly. “But you use it to great effect.”

“I like people.”

She smiled then, chasing the sadness from her face. “I know you do. And you’re the definition of fun. So I thought …” Color climbed up her cheeks.

Whether he was angry or not, Jamie couldn’t help his interest in this woman, and the color in her cheeks intrigued him. “You thought what?”

“I’m trying new things. Like the book club. So I thought …”

“You thought you’d try me out, too?”

She flashed a surprisingly wicked smile. “I thought I’d try a date with you. And, unfortunately, I thought I’d do it in front of Victor. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. It was a momentary impulse. I’d already changed my mind when you weren’t at the brewery, but then you walked in….”

He shrugged. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have shown him up. But I would’ve appreciated a warning.”

She touched his arm. “I really am sorry. Let’s leave.”