Page 15

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Olivia hadn’t been able to sleep for hours. After tossing and turning until the digital clock on her nightstand showed 1:47 a.m., she finally gave up.

Maybe a cup of herbal tea would help. She slid from beneath the covers and pulled on her robe, cinching it around her waist. As she stepped into the hallway, she noticed a thin line of light beneath Tyson’s office door.

She wasn’t the only one battling insomnia tonight.

She hesitated, then knocked softly.

“Come in,” he called, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

She pushed open the door and found Tyson surrounded by blueprints spread across his desk, a calculator beside him, and spreadsheets on his computer screen.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, but they still brightened when he saw her.

“Can’t sleep?” He straightened in his chair.

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” She moved closer, examining the detailed drawings. “What are these?”

He hesitated, as if deciding how much to share. “Plans for a project I’ve been working on.”

The blueprints showed a beautiful modern building with unique architectural elements she couldn’t name. There were classrooms, a community gathering space, a library, and what looked like a cultural center.

“A school?” she asked, studying the papers more closely.

Tyson nodded before pushing his hands through his hair. “Yes, and unfortunately, the contractor called today. Material costs have gone up again.”

Olivia’s eyes widened as she took in the scope of the project. “This looks significant. Personal project?”

His eyes took on a faraway look. “I’m trying to get a school built in an impoverished area about an hour from here. My grandmother used to say that education was the only gift no one could take away.” He touched the blueprint gently. “She made me promise, Olivia. On her deathbed.”

“And you always keep your promises. I had no idea you were involved in something like this.” Olivia settled into a chair across from him. “Where exactly is this school going to be built?”

“On the Cherokee reservation in western North Carolina,” he said. “My grandmother was full-blooded Cherokee, so I’m a quarter Cherokee myself.”

This was a side of Tyson she hadn’t expected. “I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I publicize. Not because I’m not proud of my heritage, but because I don’t want it to seem like I’m using it as a marketing angle for my fitness brand.”

So he was humble also. She liked that.

“Tell me about your grandmother,” Olivia said, sincerely interested. “She sounds like an amazing woman.”

A genuine smile warmed Tyson’s face. “She was. Anna Stone—though she always kept her Cherokee name, Ama Agiyahi, which means ‘Water Woman.’ She lived on the reservation until she was eighteen, then she left to get her teaching degree. She was the first in her family to go to college.”

“That couldn’t have been easy back then.”

“It wasn’t. She faced discrimination at every turn, but she never gave up.” Pride filled his voice. “She taught on the reservation for forty years. Every summer when school was out, my mom would send me to stay with her.”

“So that’s where you learned about your heritage?”

He nodded. “The summers I spent with her were the best of my life. She taught me everything—the language, the traditions, the stories. But what she talked about most was her dream.”

“The school,” Olivia said softly.

“The community school there is over fifty years old. It has a leaky roof, inadequate heating, outdated everything. She watched generation after generation of kids struggle because they didn’t have the resources other schools had.” Tyson tapped the blueprint. “She used to say, ‘One day, our children will have a school worthy of their potential.’”

“And you’re making that happen.”

“I’m trying.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “We’re so close, but with these new cost increases . . . I only have another eight days until I need to have all the paperwork in place and the funding lined up.”

“What happens if you don’t meet the deadline?”

“The tribal council will reallocate the land they’ve set aside for the project. There’s a developer who wants to build a resort and casino—they’re offering big money.” His jaw tightened.

Olivia thought of the determination in Tyson’s eyes whenever he spoke about his fitness programs, his unwavering dedication to helping people transform their lives.

Now she understood where that drive came from—it ran much deeper than just physical fitness.

“How much do you need to raise?” she asked.

Tyson hesitated, as if reluctant to share the burden. “The project costs over a hundred million.”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “A hundred million? That’s a lot.”

“I’ve been blessed beyond what I could have imagined. But I don’t have that much money lying around. So I’ve been trying to raise it. I’m still twenty million dollars short, however.”

“Do you have a plan for how you might get that in eight days?”

“I have some ideas. New product lines, speaking engagements, maybe another book.” His voice was determined but weary. “I’ll find a way. I have to.”

On impulse, Olivia reached across the desk and touched his hand. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. I could help. I have some connections?—”

Something flickered in his eyes—vulnerability, perhaps even longing—before he carefully withdrew his hand. “That’s kind of you to say, but?—”

“I mean it. I could help you. I know people in media who?—”

“I appreciate the offer, Olivia. Really.” His tone was gentle but firm. “But this is my responsibility.”

“Because of your promise?”

“Yes.” He looked at her with an intensity that made her breath catch. “Some commitments have to come first. No matter what else I might want.”

Olivia felt the weight of his words, sensing they were about more than just the school. This was why he was so focused. He’d dedicated his life to keeping this promise.

“I’d like to see it someday,” she said softly. “The reservation. The place where they’ll build this school.”

Something like hope flashed across his face. “Maybe I could take you there. There are some amazing people you should meet.”

“I’d like that.” She rose from the chair. “I should let you work. And I need to try to get some sleep myself.”

“Probably wise.” His smile was tinged with regret. “Good night, Olivia.”

“Good night, Tyson.”

As she closed the door behind her, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be loved by a man who took his promises so seriously.

Then she wondered whether she’d ever have the chance to find out.

* * *

Tyson watched the door close behind Olivia, her vanilla scent lingering in the air.

The concern in her eyes, the gentle touch of her hand on his . . . if he wasn’t careful, those small notions would breach the careful walls he’d built. He couldn’t let that happen.

Too much was on the line.

He turned back to the blueprints, trying to focus. The numbers blurred before his eyes.

This was doable. It had to be.

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a framed photograph. His grandmother stood in front of the old school, surrounded by smiling children. Her silver hair was pulled back in a traditional bun, and the lines around her eyes spoke of decades of laughter and determination.

“I won’t let you down, Grandmother,” he whispered to the photo.

The phone call from the contractor today had been a hard blow. The costs kept rising, and time was running short. The tribal council had been generous with extensions, but they were facing pressure too.

If he missed this deadline, the whole project could be permanently shelved.

Claire hadn’t understood his obsession with the project. She’d tried initially. Had even visited the reservation with him a few times. But eventually, his constant work, the fundraising events, the speaking tours—they’d taken their toll.

“It’s always the school first, then your fitness empire, then maybe me if there’s time left over,” she’d said the night she walked out. “I can’t be an afterthought in your life, Tyson.”

He couldn’t blame her. Claire deserved someone who could put her first. Everyone did.

Including Olivia.

Not that she was interested in him. But Tyson reminded himself of that fact so he could put on brakes before he let his own interest in the woman develop any further.

He rubbed his eyes, exhaustion finally catching up with him. The way Olivia had looked at the blueprints, the genuine interest in her voice when she asked about his grandmother—it had touched something deep inside him.

She wasn’t just being polite. She cared.

That made her all the more dangerous to his carefully ordered life.

He’d felt the chemistry spark between them. In another time, another place, maybe he could explore what was growing between them.

But not now.

Not with the deadline looming.

Falling for Olivia would be selfish. Unfair to her. He couldn’t divide his attention, couldn’t be the partner she deserved. He’d already failed at that once.

Tyson carefully returned the photograph to the drawer.

His eyes drifted to the seat where Olivia had sat. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine a different life—one where he could follow his heart without betraying his promises.

But that wasn’t the life he had. He had obligations, commitments. His personal desires had to come second.

Even if that meant continuing to keep Olivia at arm’s distance.

With a deep sigh, Tyson turned back to the spreadsheets. The numbers weren’t going to solve themselves.

And neither would the growing conflict in his heart.