Hello everyone! Your support and positive feedback have been such a source of inspiration for me. Thank you for being part of this journey and for your wonderful reviews. I'm thrilled to continue sharing this story with all of you. Although this chapter may be a bit shorter, I promise that Chapter 9 will more than make up for it. So, without further ado, let's dive into this next part!

Olivia's POV

As I watch Fitz strut away with his cocky confidence, I can't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions inside me. I mean, I've only known the guy for a day, but there's a spark there, and it's hard to ignore. Maybe it's the way he flashed that flirty smile or the tender kiss on the cheek. I was sure he would go for a kiss on the lips, and I would have let him, but the cheek, smooth Fitz, very smooth.

I made my way to my apartment and opened the door to a flood of unpacked boxes in every corner. Tomorrow, I am spending the day unpacking this place. After tossing my purse onto a chair, I kicked off my shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen, in dire need of a drink. As the liquid poured into my glass, thoughts of Fitz and his endless flirtations invaded my mind. He's such a charmer, even though he's taken. Why does life have to be so complicated? I can already feel myself falling for him, and it's making my head spin.

I need a distraction. I'll call Jake back since I cut him off so abruptly earlier.

"Liv, how was your date?"

"Date? What are you talking about? How's everything over there?"

"I'm talking about the man you had dinner with. The man you rushed me off the phone for. And Lilly is finally asleep, so that's good."

"Well, that's good to hear and to answer your question. I was not on a date. I was having Chinese food at the studio with someone who helped me move in some boxes and unload them."

"You found a random man on the street to help you?"

"No. I met a man last night at the bar."

"Oh, really." I can hear the slight disappointment in his voice.

"Are you disappointed?"

"No, no, that's great. Who is he?"

"You wouldn't know him." I know that's a lie; how could he not? He's the governor's son and owns a hotel—Jake is a mover and shaker in this city. I'm sure he's familiar with him, but it's none of his business.

"Well, tell me about him?"

"Tell you about him? There's nothing to tell."

"Liv, come on. A random man you met last night decided to come to the studio today to help you clean a dirty storage room. Seriously? That's the story you're going to give me?" He's way too judgmental to tell him anything.

"I met him last night; he came by the studio today and helped me unload some boxes, then took me home. That's what happened." I mean, it's not far from the truth at all.

"He knows where you live and work?! What is wrong with you, Liv? I don't like that. You can't just pick up random men in bars. This is New York. I should have been there last night. Where was Quinn?" He says, irritated and disappointed in me.

"I don't need a babysitter, Jake. I am a grown-ass woman. If I want to talk to a man, I will. If I want to fuck someone, I will." I say, annoyed.

"You don't have to be vulgar, Liv."

"And you not my father either."

"I'm not trying to be your dad. I'm just trying to look out for you. Is that so bad."

"I'm fine. He's a nice guy who was very kind to me."

"Men lie." I roll my eyes with a chuckle.

"What are you trying to say? That I'm not good enough for a man to like me for me? I'm only good for sex?"

"You know damn well that's not what I mean, but he will lie to try to get you into bed."

"He doesn't have to lie to get me into his bed." There is a silence that comes over us.

"Okay. Obviously, I've pissed you off. Why don't we start fresh tomorrow. I'll stop by in the morning, and we can go to breakfast."

"Tomorrow, I'm staying home and getting my place together."

"Okay, I'll bring breakfast over there."

"No, not tomorrow. You can stop by the studio on Monday, okay?

"Whatever you say, Liv."

"Good night, Jake," I said, swiftly ending the call before he could respond. The guy drives me up the wall. He means well, but he can be suffocating at times, and I've already had enough of that in my life. What does he even know, anyway? Sure, Fitz might only want sex, but he knows how to make a girl feel special. One evening with that man was better than any years I spent with Edison. As far as I know, Fitz has yet to lie to me about anything I've asked him. I don't give a damn what Jake thinks; I like Fitz, and I'll see him again if I feel like it. I'll do a lot more than that if I'm not careful.

I toss my body back on the bed. When I close my eyes, I can picture Mr. Grant's piercing blue eyes, his infectious laugh, and his gaze so intense. As desire for him burns in me, that doesn't change the fact that he's forbidden fruit. He's unavailable.

After a long hot bath and tucking myself in bed, the smell of him stays on my mind, and I get out of bed to get his business card and a glass of water. I stare at it, thinking of how it felt to feel his hands on me. To feel his lips on my cheek. He's a very passionate man. I can see it in his eyes. I bet he's fantastic in bed. I'm going to say I bet he's very generous. Olivia! Stop thinking of him like that. It doesn't matter how good he is in bed because you'll never know. I toss the card on my nightstand and turn to face the other direction as I pull the covers over my head. I'm done thinking about Mr. Grant for the night.

The following day, the sun's rays creep through the windows at 6 am, jolting me awake from a hazy dream. I yawn and stretch, my mind instantly fixating on Mr. Grant. I wonder what he's up to right now? Is he an earlier riser, or sleeps in on the weekend? Is he and his wife snuggled up together? He mentioned he had kids. I wonder how old and how many. I have got to shake this man from my thoughts.

After getting dressed, I ate, read the morning paper, and made a few notes about my ideas for the opening night. I really need to find someone who can help me organize it. I need it to be perfect, but who? I don't know anyone here. I'll ask Jake; maybe he knows someone.

I hear my phone ding with a text message. I grab it, and low and behold, it's the man I can't seem to get off my mind.

Fitz: Morning beautiful.

I instantly smile and take a seat on the couch.

Olivia: Morning Mr. Grant.

Fitz: I hope I didn't wake you.

Olivia: Not at all. I'm an earlier riser, usually.

Fitz: So am I. Got plans today?

Olivia: Yeah, finish unpacking my apartment. I'm living in a maze of boxes.

Fitz: Want help?

Olivia: No, I got it, but thank you for the offer. Do you have plans?

Fitz: I'm going by my brother's this morning, then back home. My father is coming today. Nightmare.

Olivia: Why is that?

Fitz: Story for another time. I got to get going, but I'll check on you later.

Olivia: Okay. Have a wonderful day!

Fitz: You too sweetheart.

Check on me later, interesting. This man makes me feel like a teenage girl crushing on the quarterback of our high school team. I can't remember the last time a man made me smile and laugh as much as he did.

I spent the next few hours unpacking the entire living room and bathroom, and let me tell you, it's coming together. I'm starting to feel that warm, fuzzy feeling about this place. As the sounds of Janet Jackson fill my apartment, I start bopping around, admiring my handiwork and feeling like the queen of organizing. But just as I get into my groove, my phone has the nerve to ring. I stop in my tracks, wondering if it might be Fitz.

As I walk closer to the phone, I frown as I see my father's name on the caller ID. I've been dodging his calls for the last few days, but I can't avoid it forever. I take a deep breath and reluctantly answer, sensing the impending doom. "Hello, Dad," I say, trying to keep my tone neutral but failing miserably.

"Olivia, I've been trying to reach you for days. We need to talk," his voice strained with urgency.

"I know what this is about, Dad. You want me to return to North Carolina and patch things up with Edison. I already told you that's not happening," I reply, crossing her arms and bracing myself for the argument I know is coming.

"Olivia, this is not a game. You belong in North Carolina with your husband and your family. You're just running away from your responsibilities," his voice grew angrier with each word.

"I'm not running away, Dad. I'm living my own life, pursuing my passion for art. I can't just ignore that for the sake of a failed marriage," I shoot back, frustration rising in my voice.

"Failed marriage? It's only failed because you gave up on it, Olivia. Edison loves you, and he deserves a second chance. You need to come back and make things right," he insisted.

"Make things right? Dad, you have no idea what went on in our marriage. I can't go back to that," my voice trembling with emotion, memories of the pain and heartache starts flooding my mind.

"I don't care what went on. You made a commitment to Edison, and you need to honor it. You were a successful lawyer, Olivia. And Edison has agreed to let you practice law instead of work in his office. He's trying to work with you. You need to come back and start practicing law again. That's where you belong," my father's voice filled with irritation.

"I'm sorry, did you say he's willing to let me practice law? Are you kidding me? I don't belong in a courtroom, Dad. I belong in a studio, creating art. That's where I find my peace, my happiness. I can't just go back to practicing law to please you or anyone else," defiance creeping into my voice.

"Olivia, you're being selfish. You need to think about your family and your responsibilities. You can't just follow your whims and abandon everything else."

"I am thinking about my family. I want to make my mother proud by following my dreams because I know that's what she would want for me." my voice is growing stronger."

"You're being stubborn, Olivia. You're making a mistake. I won't support this foolish decision of yours,"

"I don't expect you to understand or support me, dad. But this is my life, and I will live it on my terms.

Our conversation dragged on, fueled by emotion, frustration, and stubbornness. He refuses to see my side. He hasn't even given it a chance; he just assumes it's a terrible mistake, but I don't care. I'm standing my ground, determined to forge ahead, no matter the resistance.

Finally, the call ended, leaving me with a heavy heart and a deep sense of loneliness. I stood up for myself and my dreams. But the price is so high—a nonexistent relationship with my father and the sadness that comes with standing up to him for the first time in my life. I have always done as he commanded, with very few questions asked. It must have been as much of a shock to him as it was to myself for me to defy him.

Sitting at the kitchen table alone, I wonder what the future holds for me in this city. Can I actually make this work? Am I really good enough? What am I going to do if no one comes to the opening? My name will be ruined. I can't fail.

Determined not to let my negative thoughts drag me down, I must keep myself busy. As I surveyed the remaining boxes in the bedroom, I was determined to make this space my own. I wanted to create a peaceful oasis and I'm eager to bring it to life. I turned on some music, poured myself a generous glass of wine, and set to work, keen on transforming this room.