7. OLD TRADITIONS, NEW BEGINNINGS.

There was one time Olivia Sanders felt truly alone.

And by that, i mean there was Alli, no Sarah, neither was there her father. They'd traveled for the weekend to Sweden for work and she'd pushed everyone else away. It was the summer of 07, and after that—after being humiliated at Camp Kiwi.

The last days were horrendous, and Olivia had avoided any form of human contact, and that included her best friend. She didn't eat, neither did she go canoeing or dancing. Or for clubs. Her bed became her soulmate, and her sunken pillow, a companion.

Liv would spend the whole day crying, sliding deeper into the trenches of the depression that would soon overtake her. And when she got back home, it got worse. She totally stopped eating, and she'd puke anytime she'd remembered his words.

"You think anyone in their right mind would be interested in you?"

The thing that haunted her the most weren't his words, rather it was the fact that she believed those words. Liv up until the moment Alex walked up to her was convinced love was a myth—asides her parents who were exceptions. But now, sitting at the edge of her head with messy hair and ruined mascara, eyes turned to her white washed ceilings and arms around her wet pillows, Liv was more than convinced there really was no one out there for her. And Alex was right—no one would dare look at her twice.

It was from that moment Olivia became invisible. Boring—the plaid person that she was today. And less quirky than the one that went to Camp. She found home behind the papers of vintage romance novels or the traditional Sherlock Holmes' mysteries. It became her favorite thing to do, read and read. She fell in love with the fictional characters because they were somewhat safer to love, and that way she would break what was left of her heart.

Her only other person was Alli.

Along the years, she'd lost everyone else but him. Through elementary, high school, crappy college and early adulthood—even when she didn't have herself, Olivia had—

"Alli"

He turned to face her, squinting for a second as though he had eye problems. But once he'd recognized her, a smile crept to the corner of his lips. "How are you?" She struggled with her iD as they walked towards the door. "I'm okay" Alli replied, holding unto the end of his red checkered tie.

"How was your weekend?"

Olivia, on the other hand had to think and rack her brain of the events that went down after the funeral. Truth was, it was somewhat a blur. "It was good i guess" She walked past him, pushing open the entrance doors with her hair bouncing over her shoulders. He noticed the color, which was fresher and more vivd but Alli chose to say nothing. He showed his id before walking to the front desk, where they were bound to part.

See Alli was on the front end engineering team, some colloquial tech term that Liv had no idea was, while she was the secretary to the CEO, who was Hank, but it is now his son. They paused, eyes locking into each other, and then it hit Liv like a wave—the words of her aunt at the funeral.

"Your father was killed"

She felt unhinged, a chill running through her entire body as she zoned out for a bit. "Olivia" Someone immediately gripped her arms, drifting her back to consciousness. "You sure you're okay?" There was genuine concern in his eyes—the eyes she looked in and the same ones she was forced to lie to.

"Yes" She pushed a lump down her throat, as she nodded. Deep down she hoped he could see she was actually not okay. And for some reason, this felt like the first time she lied to Alli. She pulled away from him, heading up the office stairs. And he watched her disappear. He could tell something was off, he knew her that well.

From the moment Damien showed up in this very corridor.

What he didn't understand was why she was keeping things from him—that was just beyond what went down years ago at Camp Kiwi, it was also now about the truth about her father. She pushed open Damien's doors, holding his documents in her arms with tears in her eyes and a prayer between her lips, hoping she wasn't actually late today. But alas—

Her voice echoed back to her as her eyes fell on the swinging chair. The dark drapes were close, and his chair was empty. The whole room was. "Shit" Liv cussed the moment the door closed behind her. And she stared up at the high candle-lit ceilings—seeking solace in her boss' office.

Her bags fell to the table, and so did a tear, just one. She pulled a thatched copy of William Harper's It ends here as she fell into his warm deep chair that still had his strong signature scent until slowly her eyes began to close, Where was Damien Archer?

"What are you doing here, mum?"

His voice was coarse, deep like it always was. But his eyes said the most words as he turned to his mother, unflinching in every emotion known to man. He'd dropped his briefcase by the chair, folding his hands in a loose fist.

"What do you mean?" Amanda's voice was subtle next to his. "Oh cut me the bullshit mum" Damien raised his and she immediately matched his gaze. "You thought you could just get rid of me after your father's funeral? That i have no place here— With my son" There was a snap in her voice that made Damien fume from within. Marisol caught his eyes and stepped forward.

"Ma'am if you don't mind. He was in his way to wor—"

"You stay out of this" Amanda lashed at her. "You're not my son's mother and you dare not speak for him" She inched closer to Damien, holding across her cream fur jacket. Her nails were painted nude but created some sort of illusion in the light. Her hands found it's way to his broad suited shoulders.

"Don't speak to Marisol that way" He quieted. And she scoffed. "Well what is she now? Your mother?" He removed her hands off him, walking past. "I consider myself an orphan."

She sighed, slowly turning to him. Her fingers swiped across the hair on her forehead as she fluttered her lashes. "Ouch" She softly exclaimed. "I don't have to explain myself" He picked up his bags and the keys to his car. But she stood in his way.

"I'm coming with you."

He looked down at her unwavering stare before calmly saying. "No" And then he walked around her. Her fingers trailed the sides of her frail one-piece before she yelled. "It is this family's company" She said. "Hank left you nothing" Damien replied. "And why do you think that is?"

He turned around to his mother.

"Because of—" Damien paused, as if holding back his next words. The words that Amanda knew. She cupped her chin with an exhale, some sort of guilt seeping into her son's veins.

"I'm clean now."

"Five years. I know you never cared to ask. You never cared about me" She added and he rolled his eyes. "Good for you" He replied and Amanda inched closer to him. "How could you?"

"Your father must have brainwashed you all he wanted since i was gone. Lying to you that i'm a terrible person" She continued. "You both were terrible people." Damien replied. "But one person had an advantage. No surprise it was the man" She scoffed.

"You left mum, what did you expect?"

"And you think i ever had a choice?" She raised her voice got the first time. "You ever thought that if it came down to me, i would have stayed. Stayed for both Luke—and you."

"You had Luke" Damien whispered and she scoffed. "It was never my choice, Damien. I wanted to watch both my sons grow up. I wanted to be apart of your lives. The big moments and the lit—"

"Mom, you chose drugs over this family. I know Dad wasn't the best person but he needed you. He needed us, and then he didn't have a multi-billion dollar corporation to his name. "And what about me?" There were solemn tears in her eyes as she patted her chest. "What about what i needed?" She asked.

"I needed a second chance" Her voice broke.

"Addiction is hard enough, it's brutal and quite frankly the most terrifying feeling in the world. Knowing you're ruining everything but not being able to do that much about it" She added. "But you know what's harder—leaving rehab and coming home to nothing. To no one. You boys were little kids then, and had no idea and it wasn't until court that i got your little brother, Luke"

"If not, Hank intended to leave me with nothing. Nothing but a letter and it was the last i ever saw you" She continued. "Until now. Now that he's dead and you're looking for the perfect opportunity to walk back into my life and his" Damien answered in a spiteful tone. So much that she shrugged.

"You can choose to keep living in his lies, or you could—" She walked to him. "You could for once, choose to trust your own mother." She whispered and Damien took a minute, contemplating in his own mind. "You're the new ceo." Her hands found the collar of his suit and she stroked it softly.

"You can't do this alone."

"I know more about the Archer empire than you ever will. I was the Archer Empire back in the day, before Hank—Before Hank fell out of love. Let me help you" She whispered. "Don't make the same mistakes your father did."

Damien struggled with a lump down his throat as his eyes went up to Marisol. "Let me think about it" His eyes fell back to her. "And today, you're only coming in as a guest. My guest. Nothing more—" She was the one who swallowed a lump down her throat as she grabbed her bags. But before he went through the doors, he turned to face her, empathy in his eyes.

"Luke"

She matched his gaze. "How's he?" Damien asked softly. "College boy" Amanda smiled. "He's doing okay. He does ask of you sometimes" Damien nodded, not showing the slightest of emotions but rather walking straight of his doors. "Good" He said.

His scent filled her nose, welcoming her, engulfing her. And the truth was, Olivia didn't hate it. From his chairs, she'd walked to the show-glass were he'd hung some of his medals. He sailed, Damien—asides being an athlete, he sailed.

So they were many of his awards that had taken space in his father's office since he renovated. The gold plaque rested against the table before she picked it in her hands. Her fingers rubbed against the engraved letters of his name on the metal.

Damien Alexander Archer.

She was quiet, comfortable in her own solace and his scent. And in that moment, for the first time, it didn't seem as though she hated him nor like they had some history. He felt like this fascinating stranger she knew nothing about. His medals gave him a life, a story for her head. One that didn't follow the usual narrative—but suddenly she shook it off.

She couldn't afford to be anything but hostile towards him.

And suddenly that narrative seeped back into her mind as she let go of his plaque. Next to it though, was a cassette player, one that already had something in it. Her book laid on the edge of his table as the room went dark. His office.

Her fingers clicked it down and a slow song started playing, echoes of the lyrics filling the walls. She picked up the tape, looking at the band, Cigarettes after Sex. Slowly, she glided her hips to the side, filling her hair with her fingers.

Liv had a smile on her face as she danced to the music. Her legs went to the top of his chair, as she pretended to be in a concert of her own, like it was a morning in her shower. And she chuckled, recognizing the song. For a whole fifteen minutes, she danced to songs that all sounded alike.

Until the door slipped open with Liv on top of his table, and feet on his documents. She froze, eyes matching with Damien's. He stood still as well, Amanda behind him. And then an exhale escaped his lips. "What?" He asked, bizarrely stressed. And Liv climbed down his desk, slipping her feet into her pumps. She ruffled her hair as well, and pulled herself together.

Attempted.

Amanda stepped in front of him as she muttered an apology. "I'm so sorry, Mr Archer. I—" Liv stuttered, realizing the song still played dramatically behind her. Her hands struggled to find the off button as Damien didn't utter a word. He just let his stare do the best by intimidating her and making her as uncomfortable as she could be in that very moment.

"I got carried away" She cleared her throat. It was Amanda who stepped forward this time. "It's okay honey. I will uhm—" She turned to Damien who looked down at her. "Stay out of this" He muttered, immediately grabbing Liv by her arms. He tossed her out of his office, pointing a finger in her face.

"Why are you like this?"

"Tell me, Ophelia. One reason why i shouldn't fire this instant" He pretended to be aggravated because that was all she ever did—aggravate him. But deep down, she could tell he wasn't entirely mad at her.

Like he had bigger problems than her dancing on his table. And looking back, she could tell by the striking resemblance that Amanda was his mother but she didn't dare utter a word. "I said i'm sorry" She muttered, her eyes falling to his hands that still held tightly around her arms. He did as well before he pulled away. And she ruffled her shirt, stepping backwards.

"I should fire you" She gazed at the throbbing of his Adam's apple and she inched closer to him, leveraging him. "You won't. I'm the only person here that knows as much as Hank" Liv said. And Damien tilted his head, fazed by her guts. Her audacity.

He went quiet.

"And it's Olivia. For the nth time, my name is Olivia" She added before turning her back to him and his hands slipped into his pockets for a second. "Olivia" He called, for the first time getting her name right. And she turned to face him.

"You're fired"

Her throat went dry as he turned to Amanda, who was just as shocked as she was. And then back at her. "Turn in your files and documents at the end of the day" He said.

"But Mr Arc—"

"And my keys" He interrupted.

"You can't do this, Damien" She replied slyly as he held the door between them. His eyes went from her lips to her hazel eyes and he scoffed. "I just did. Set up your vacancy on your way out—"

"One chance was all you had. I meant it"

"I mean everything i say" He closed the door on her, and her lips fell wide open. "Shit—" She cussed. "What happened?" A voice called out to her from a distance and she turned to face Alli.

"I just got fired" She said, with a dawn of sudden realization.

To be continued...