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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The next day, Tyson glanced at his watch, noting it was almost time for the interviews to begin.

He’d invited three of his most successful clients to come showcase their results for Olivia’s segment. Their transformations weren’t just physical—they represented the holistic approach to health he always emphasized in his program.

As he finished setting up the outdoor area for the post-interview cookout, he spotted Olivia coming down the stairs. His heart skipped a beat.

But when he noticed that she seemed pale, he sobered.

She’d been through so much.

“The crew’s all set up in the living room,” he told her as she drew near. “Heather, William, and Tonya should be here any minute.”

“Perfect. I’m actually looking forward to this.”

Tyson smiled at the admission. “You sound surprised.”

“Let’s just say I didn’t expect to become a convert to healthy living quite so quickly.”

The doorbell rang before he could respond, and the day was set into motion.

The interviews went smoothly—each guest sharing their journey with honesty and enthusiasm that Tyson knew would resonate with viewers.

He found himself watching Olivia as much as his clients, noting how skillfully she drew out their stories, making connections that even he hadn’t considered before. Olivia’s earlier trauma seemed to be forgotten—but he knew it was never that easy.

After filming wrapped, Tyson fired up the grill, arranging salmon steaks and vegetable kabobs. The mood lightened as they moved from formal interviews to casual conversation. Laughter drifted across the patio as Heather recounted her first disastrous attempt at making one of Tyson’s protein smoothies.

“I nearly broke my blender,” she admitted. “And my dog wouldn’t even eat it!”

Tyson caught Olivia’s eye across the table, pleased to see genuine enjoyment replacing the tension that had shadowed her face for days.

For a few hours, at least, she seemed to have forgotten about the roses and the calls.

After dinner, everyone gathered around the kitchen table to play cards. William proved surprisingly competitive, while Tonya kept them laughing with stories from her job as a kindergarten teacher.

Soon after, Wes and Chandler had to leave. They were both going back to New York for the weekend—Chandler to see his family, and Wes because he had Yankees tickets and a date with his latest love interest.

Just as everyone left, Tyson’s landline rang—unusual, since most people called his cell. When he answered, the caller asked for Olivia without identifying himself.

Something in the caller’s tone made the hair on Tyson’s neck stand up.

He paced into the living room, and he extended the cordless phone toward her.

“Olivia, you have a phone call.” He kept his expression neutral despite his concern. “Didn’t give me a name.”

“That’s odd.” She looked puzzled as she took the phone, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Hello?”

Tyson watched as her entire body tensed at whatever the caller said.

“Paul?” she whispered, her knuckles whitening around the phone.

Tyson moved to give her privacy but couldn’t help wondering who this Paul was and why his call had such an immediate effect on her.

Was this a social call? Tyson found himself surprisingly bothered by the possibility that it might be.

He lingered in the doorway, telling himself he was just concerned for her safety, but knowing there was more to it than that. Much more.

* * *

Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia saw Tyson lingering in the kitchen, collecting the dirty dishes and placing them in the sink. He wasn’t in a hurry, and she had a feeling he was hanging around with intent.

“Special Agent Harris, thanks for calling me back. Though I’m not sure why you chose this number instead of my cell.”

“I tried your cell, and you didn’t answer. That’s when I did some research and called this number instead. What’s with the formality?”

For some reason, his words grated on her nerves. “Just keeping things professional.”

He paused before saying, “I see. How are you holding up?”

His voice sounded low and husky, just as she remembered. It was one of the qualities that first made her heart race.

“I’m hanging in.” She glanced over at Tyson.

He wiped down the kitchen table and counter, his muscles rippling beneath his T-shirt as he worked.

Olivia tried not to stare.

“About the message you left me . . . I’m sorry this is happening. I’ve been in touch with Scarborough, and we’re trying to figure out if there’s some kind of connection between New York and North Carolina.”

Only two people really knew everything she went through with the stalker—Paul and Lyle. Paul had been the lead FBI agent on the case, so he knew all the details.

He’d offered a shoulder to cry on.

She’d trusted him with her heart, and he’d broken it when he’d cheated on her after only two months of dating.

“Have you found out anything?” she asked. “A connection?”

He let out a breath, signaling a conversation shift. “I’ve reviewed the new evidence. There could be something there, Olivia.”

Her heart pounded harder. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“I’m going to keep investigating until I find out what’s going on.”

“Thank you.”

Silence stretched a moment.

“Listen, I’m sorry about what happened between us,” Paul finally said. “I know my apology is coming too late, but I had to try things out with Danielle. Otherwise, I’d always wonder what if . . . you know?”

No, Olivia didn’t know. Part of her wanted to confront him again. Another part knew it would be a waste of time. “It’s water under the bridge.”

He paused as if he wanted to say more.

Before he could, she rushed, “Thanks for calling me back. Keep me updated if you hear anything.”

Then she ended the call.

Although she respected Paul’s skills as an FBI agent, his betrayal instantly dissolved any other respect she’d once had for him.

Olivia stood where she was, letting the conversation sink in. She hadn’t heard Paul’s voice in a long time.

And she didn’t even mourn the end of their relationship. Not anymore.

In hindsight, she could see where their relationship had been doomed from the start.

“You okay?” Tyson asked from behind her.

Olivia had almost forgotten he was still in the kitchen. Her cheeks flushed when she remembered he’d heard everything.

She turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “Just an old . . . the FBI agent from New York.”

Tyson’s face showed that he picked up on the conversation enough to know he was more.

Olivia chuckled self-consciously. “Okay, and an old boyfriend. I guess dating the FBI agent on the case seemed like the thing to do. Isn’t that what happens in all the movies? The helpless female falls in love with the only man who can protect her—the dashing FBI agent who’s determined to get to the bottom of things.”

“Except you’re not helpless.” Tyson smiled.

“I’ve learned that.” Her eyes widened to drive home her point. “Believe me, I’ve learned to keep my wits about me.”

Some lessons she never wanted to repeat.

Falling for a man in an adrenaline-fueled situation was one of them.

Never again, she mused. Never again.