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CHAPTER NINE

Hobbes’ head snapped up.

“Who’s there?” He reached for something beside him.

Olivia froze, heart hammering in her chest.

As Hobbes moved toward the entry, Olivia pressed herself against the wall, praying the shadows would hide her.

He appeared in the doorway. But he didn’t hold a weapon as she’d feared.

He held a fountain pen.

He looked past her as he scanned the darkness.

After what felt like an eternity, he shrugged and returned to the kitchen.

This time, Olivia could see what he was doing.

He was signing payroll checks—dozens of them—for what appeared to be the staff at Tyson’s house.

Relief flooded through her. An innocent explanation.

She retreated silently to her room, chiding herself for being suspicious.

* * *

The rest of the week flew by, the same routine every day.

The gang started with a healthy breakfast and then Tyson went through Olivia’s workout with her. Afterward, he disappeared either into his home office or he went to work at his downtown office. He’d taken her there once to show her around and for Wes to film some B roll.

Olivia spent a few hours each day posting photos of her journey on several of Static Entertainment’s social media accounts. They’d gained hundreds of thousands of new followers already, and they were just getting started.

Those numbers seemed to cement the success of this assignment and assure viewers and participants that Olivia would see it through to completion.

Meanwhile, Chandler and Wes constantly tempted Olivia with fattening foods that weren’t on her plan, and she’d resisted every time. It was their schtick, and viewers were going to eat it up.

It was Sunday now, her day of rest from exercising and the day she could eat one cheat meal.

All week Olivia had thought about what she’d eat today. Tyson had warned her not to overindulge—for more than one reason.

But first things first. She got dressed for church, figuring she’d find a nearby place of worship. She didn’t especially like going to church alone, but going alone was better than not going at all.

Grabbing her purse and Bible, she headed downstairs. Wes and Chandler had told her she could use their rental car today.

Tyson was sipping on a mug of coffee when she walked into the kitchen. She stopped when she spotted him.

He looked stunning in a teal-colored polo shirt and khakis.

He glanced up from reading something on his laptop, looking equally surprised to see her dressed and ready. “Don’t you look nice.”

“As do you.” She carefully lowered herself into the chair across from him. “Where are you headed? A seminar? A book signing?”

He smiled as if amused by the question. “Church.”

She raised her eyebrows before consciously relaxing her expression. Her surprise was rude, and she regretted that. But she’d had no idea Tyson was a believer—though he hadn’t done anything to indicate otherwise.

“Not what you expected?” More amusement danced in his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I just . . .”

“No explanation is needed.” He turned his laptop around and pushed it toward her. “You’ll want to read this.”

She couldn’t imagine what he could be talking about. She braced herself, expecting the worst . . . expecting an update claiming The Admirer had struck again.