If dodging Jamie's mom every time she tried to get me alone to find out more information about me was a sport, I'd be a gold medalist.

"I know what game you're playing, Ollie."

Until now, that is.

Booze. Definitively more booze. I poured some more whiskey into my glass. "I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Lovette."

Jamie's mom leaned forward, as if not to be overheard by the other wedding guests. "You think I don't know that my daughter brought you here and made up this whole cockamamie scheme about the two of you dating just to get me to back off? Come on now, Ollie, you can't pull a fast one over me."

Damn. Jamie tried to warn me multiple times that her mom had a way of seeing past her bullshit. I brushed it off with a laugh, telling her she was exaggerating and that I could handle anything Mama Lovette tried to dish out. Clearly, I should have taken Jamie's word for it. 

One other thing...I've always hated lying. The truth always seemed to come out in the end regardless, so I figured what was the point now? Besides, lying to Mrs. Lovette just seemed...wrong.

I threw back the last of the whiskey before meeting her gaze. "If you know the reason I'm here, then why haven't you outed us? You know, call Jamie out on it."

Her expression was thoughtful when her lips curved up in a small smile. "I've seen the way you look at her, Ollie. You like her. I mean...you really like her."

Goddammit. Jackson said the same shit to me. Was it that obvious?  Did everyone see the way I was looking at Jamie? Hell, did Jamie herself notice how much I was into her?

"Look, Mrs. Lovette—"

"Cherise, please."

"I don't know what you thought you saw, but I'm just here to help her out. Besides, I'm moving out of the country—"

"For work. I know. She told me." She stepped a little closer and her expression changed from thoughtful to concerned. "Don't lie to me, Ollie. Whether you're moving or not, it's obvious there's something between you two."

I stared at my empty glass, debating if I should poor another. "What makes you think that?"

Cherise chuckled and patted me on the shoulder. "I'm a mom. We know these things."

Couldn't deny that. My own mom had her own way of catching me every single time I tried to lie or get away with something. Actually, that was the main reason I gave up on lying. She always told me over and over again, 'The truth will always come out, Ollie". 

And it did. 

I shrugged and exhaled a deep breath. "Doesn't matter what I feel, Mrs. Lovette." Shit. "I mean, Cherise. She isn't into me like that. And even if she was, I'm moving. There's no way it would work."

Suddenly I really wished it would work. I've been avoiding those thoughts ever since I met her. But there was no brushing it off or avoiding it anymore. I was into her way more than I should be.

"Has she told you much about of her life, Ollie?"

At a loss for words, I just shook my head.

"I love my daughter more than anything," Cherise said softly. "I'm sure she would probably say I love her too much. But she hasn't had an easy life. Especially when it comes to relationships. She's strong. Very, very strong. But she needs someone who's going to protect her, Ollie. She needs you."

***

What. The. Fuck.

Jamie was here. Here. In Paris. Not only was she in Paris, but she was fucking upstairs.

How I kept my cool up there, I had no idea. I'd heard someone come into the warehouse and go up the stairs to the loft. I was just finishing off a pot of coffee and, after the bombed appointments from earlier, I took my sweet time meeting going upstairs to meet the latest one. When I stepped into that damn loft, I knew. As soon as my eyes landed on all those red curls, I fucking knew it was her.

Thank God she wasn't facing me, because I just stood there for a second. Frozen. Unable to move or breathe because I thought that if I did then my alarm would go off and this would all be a dream.

But this wasn't a dream at all. This was reality. And I knew that if I reacted exactly how I wanted to—you know, running to her, hugging her, kissing her. Showing her how fucking happy and relieved I was that she was okay—I'd probably end up scaring her off and she'd go running for the hills. So, I tried as hard as I could to be all nonchalant about it. And it seemed to work.

That was until I returned to my bedroom. Now I was freaking the fuck out. I haven't stopped pacing back and forth in front of my bed. And when I went to run a hand through my hair out of habit, I realized how badly my hands were shaking. Hell, I was shaking.

So, before I passed the hell out, I sat on the edge of my bed. Shit. What the hell was I going to tell Jean-Luc? I mean...I couldn't really tell him I just gave the keys to her without any references or anything. Yeah, I could vouch for her and explain that I knew her, but still...

Oh well. That was a problem for later. Besides, Jean-Luc wasn't here right now. Jamie was.

There was a small part of me that wondered if she had known I was in Paris. I was also curious as to why she even picked this city to run away to. Christ. That's really what she was doing, wasn't it. Running away from the tragedy that was still raw and fresh in New York.

At that moment, I wanted to hold her. Even though Cherise drove Jamie crazy most of the time, I could tell how much she loved her mom. This had to be killing her. And if letting her rent that loft helped her in some small way, then it was worth any ass-kicking I was going to get from my boss.

Then again, Simone was a romantic. Maybe I could explain who Jamie was. That she was that girl from New York. Then maybe Simone could talk to Jean-Luc for me.

When I heard the sound of the warehouse door open and close, I tensed up. Then I thought about it for a second. No. She wasn't going anywhere. I mean, obviously she left the warehouse, but she was coming back. I could tell how desperately she needed this place. It was one of the reasons I didn't hesitate to give her the keys. I just couldn't say no to her. She probably left to get her stuff from wherever the hell she'd been staying since she got here. 

God, what was I thinking, though? Having her here in the warehouse with me? After what happened, and of course what almost happened, the night of Harper's wedding, I wasn't sure if it was good for the two of us to be under the same roof.

Did I want her here? Hell yes, I did. But having her this close was going to lead to her and I getting close. At least, I was pretty sure. When it came to feeling something for me, she tried to ignore it and pretend there wasn't anything between us. Even after that night.

When my phone chimed with a new text message, I jumped up from the bed to grab it. My first thought was that it was Jamie asking me for help moving her stuff. Unfortunately, it wasn't her.

Harper: Hey Ollie. Just checking in to ask if you've seen or heard anything from Jamie?

Harper: Still no updates over here.

I stared at Harper's messages for what seemed like hours, my finger hovering over the call button. What was I supposed to do? I knew what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to push the green CALL button and reassure her best friend right now. 

But for the first time in my life, I was torn. So fucking torn. I've always considered myself a man of my word, and I made a promise to her that I would call and let her know if I heard anything or saw Jamie here in Paris.

Well, I definitely saw her. And I sure as shit heard her. That voice of hers seemed to make my entire body come alive. So now I should call, right? Or at least reply to Harper and let her know that Jamie was here. That she was okay. 

"She's strong. Very, very strong. But she needs someone who's going to protect her, Ollie. She needs you."

Cherise's voice in my head gave me my answer instantly. I needed to help Jamie get through this. To be there for her. And it was up to me to protect her and bring her back from the dark hole she's dug for herself.

But first, I needed to send a text back.

Sorry, Harper. No news from my side of the world.

I hated lying. Despised it. But when it came to someone you cared about, I guess little white lies were justified.

And when it came to Jamie? Yeah. I fucking cared about her. A lot.