So, here is chapter 4.

Finally.

Next chapter is all new and a lot less boring, I promise.

Working on later chapters, I have realized there are a lot of filler chapters until it gets more exciting, for that, I am sorry.

Please stick around and understand that we will get to A LOT more Jacob-y goodness and some angst and even some fluff!

I'm also trying REALLY hard to make these long! I am pushing myself to have at least 2,000 words per chapter (in later chapters, LOL), because I want this story to be the best it can be!

Big thanks to RealMcCoy17, SheWolfMedjai and SerenityAngels for reviewing. It really means a lot.

Thank you so much for reading and please, enjoy.

xx

I flipped through my father's e-mails, bored. They all said the same jargon that I didn't get, nor did I care to learn.

His business wasn't something I was interested in.

"You haven't had a break since you got here, Livvi. I wish you would take a break," My father said, and I jumped slightly, shaking my head.

"When I'm in the zone dad, I'm in the zone. I was in the zone…until you rudely interrupted me." I grinned, looking away from the computer, noticing he had two cups of coffee, "If I remember correctly, I could have got you a cup of coffee, I don't have a problem with that. You try and sneak extra sugar and cream into your own, anyway."

My father grinned, extending a cup toward me, "No extra cream or sugar, scout's honor. How was school today?"

"Tedious, as always. The only enjoyable days are when I learn something…I grow tired of reviewing, that's all it seems to be lately with finals on the horizon. I guess think they professors are teaching the other kids something, but I get to stare at them blankly. It rather annoys them." I laughed lightly, taking a sip of my coffee, sitting it down on my desk, "How's work, daddy?"

He leaned on the edge of my desk, shrugging, "I'm working with a nice woman, to remodel her kitchen. I think you'd like her, I'd like you to meet her."

I stared at my father for a moment. His eyes were light, his smile was a little wider then it had been in quite awhile.

A grin spread across my lips, "Oh. My. God. Daddy, you like her!"

A blush spread up his cheeks and he shook his head, looking away from me, "Now Olivia, I am a professional. All I meant was you two seem to have a lot in common. Cooking for instance, that is an obvious interest in common. She also enjoys music, that artist you like so much, Adele I think it is. Is that how you say her name? The one that sings the song about rolling in the deep? Anyway, you also both also like literature." My father still wasn't looking at me and the blush was redder than before.

"Daddy, it's okay. Really. I'm a grown woman and you don't have to explain a possibly girlfriend to me! I'm rather surprised you never had a girlfriend before now or maybe you're just hiding them from me."

My father laughed, shaking his head as he pushed himself off the desk, walking into his office, still chuckling.

I smiled, picking up my cup of coffee again, taking a sip as I turned my attention back to the e-mails.

I read through what seemed like hundreds, finally stopping when the phone on my desk rang.

"Patavonio Incorporated," I answered, almost robotically. This response was drilled into my head, and I'd even answered my cell phone this way a few times. The kids I helped tutor got a kick out of that.

"Hello, my name is Iris Taring and I was wondering who I would have to speak to about donating to Gift's for G.I.'s." The woman's voice was sugary, so sweet it made my head start to throb.

My stomach turned as I remembered the dream from a few weeks ago. I almost dry heaved.

"Um, I can give to a phone number to reach someone that can better help you. This is the number for David Patavonio's architecture firm, not his non-profit organization. Do you have a pen handy?" I sighed, trying not to be short or sarcastic. I failed at people skills sometimes.

"Sure, what is it?" She asked, still polite. I had to gasp for air to calm my nerves.

I rattled off the number, hanging up without even saying goodbye. Yep, it is safe to say that I really suck at people skills.

"Who was that?" My father was lurking in the door frame of his office, coffee mug in hand. His brows were furrowed, he looked worried. I had no idea why.

"Some woman calling to get in touch with Gift's for G.I.'s. There seems to be an outpouring of support this year." I smiled, happy about that. I glanced back at my computer screen, realizing I'd lost focus, "I'm gonna go grab a bite, dad. Do you want anything?"

I stood up from my desk, grabbing my coat as he shook his head, forcing a smile, "No thanks, darling. Drive safe."

I walked toward the elevator, smiling at Elise and Tony, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket.

No missed calls. Not that there was any surprise there, I had a shitty social life.

I called for an elevator, checking my e-mail.

There weren't any. After all this time, you'd think I was used to it, but I wasn't it. It kind of stung.

My eyebrows furrowed as I realized it was a Friday and my plans were to stay in and watch some TV, or read, after eating dinner. I felt like a middle-aged woman, with no mark on the world.

It really sucked sometimes.

I stepped onto the elevator after the doors opened, pressing L, leaning my head against the wall.

I closed my eyes and my mind wondered to thoughts of Jacob. I suddenly felt silly for worrying about not having friends or social life. He was fighting a war and didn't have the time for friends or a very active social life, I doubted he was complaining.

I'd sent my care package two weeks ago, which was a little early, well, a month early to be exact. Sometimes the soldiers didn't get the care packages for over a month, I hoped that was the case.

The elevator eased to a stop, and the doors opened, along with my eyes.

My head was squared back on my shoulders and I felt a little better.

I called my dad and told him I wouldn't be coming in for the rest of the day, he said it was fine.

Of course it was fine. It always was.

I smiled as I got off the phone, driving home instead of to the little bistro on the corner.

I felt a little lighter as I blared I Love College by Asher Roth, wondering what it would be like to live on campus and have a social life…I realized I wasn't really missing much. I'd stick to the songs and studying.

I parked my car in the driveway, walking toward the mailbox.

I pulled the mail out, flipping through it quickly as I walked toward the front door.

I stopped in mid-step, all the mail falling from my grasp except for one lone envelope, addressed to me, from Jacob Black.

I stared at the envelope for a moment, blinking.

Nope, it was certainly addressed to me from Jacob Black.

I gathered the mail that I had dropped and unlocked the door hurriedly, tossing my keys and messenger bag onto the couch, jogging up the stairs.

I sat down on my bed after I kicked my shoes off, turning the letter over in my hands, rubbing a bit of sand off of the corner.

Why was I so nervous about a letter?

I couldn't understand why my heart was racing or why I was so excited.

All it probably said was simple thanks and that was all.

At least it's more than nothing, be grateful Olivia.

I scowled at my conscience, squashing it down into nothing.

Stupid internal voice, suck it.

I sighed as I tore open the envelope neatly, which meant as slowly as possible.

I unfolded the letter, a photo falling face down onto my comforter.

I picked it up, flipping it over, my heart rate quickening.

My throat went dry as I memorized a face I felt I'd seen a million times. In the picture, was a man, with cooper skin and russet eyes.

Was it possible?

I ran my finger over the photo, finally putting it down.

I took a breath, turning to the letter.

Livvi,

Your opening wasn't cheesy at all, it was nice to know a little about you. It certainly was wonderful to hear from you, your care package was the best. I've never actually gotten one before, so it means a lot, especially since it's from a stranger. Not many people thank me, so you don't have to thank me, either, but it's very thoughtful of you.

I'm not sure what to say right now, I'm at a loss for words and I think I've forgotten how to talk (well, write in this case) to a beautiful woman.

Tell me about you, I'd like to know more about you, besides the fact your father was a marine, too, and that you're very thankful.

Are you in school? Any favorite musicians? Do you like to cook?

Tell me anything you want to share.

It's hard to get away from here, even in my mind, so hearing about something else would be nice.

I sent a picture of myself, wasn't sure if you wanted it, but you sent me one…so I returned the favor.

Thank you for the care package, like I said, it was the best. Sorry to cut this short…I promise my next letter will be longer.

Thinking of you, over here, a million miles away,

Jake

I smiled as I refolded the letter, putting it back into the envelope. I walked over to my desk, stashing the envelope away in the top drawer, clipping Jake's picture to my mini-bulletin board, a splash of colour among the bland reminders.

I grabbed a piece of paper, settling into the chair to respond, still smiling.