Broken: A Billionaire Love Story by Heather Chase Read Free Book Online Page A

small gardens, that sort of thing.
    Four dogs greeted her when she walked through the door—two large, two small. The large dogs were Mason and Parker, golden labs. The small ones, terrier mutts, were Kip and Natalie. Originally she had thought that the small dogs would be property of the larger ones, but this had turned out to be the inverse of the truth. Kip and Natalie both were positively alpha, barking and growling all the way to the front of the food line when they had to.
    She gave each dog good pets, scritching their ears, smiling as they amiably combated to lick her hands.
    “Time to feed you guys, huh?” Her voice had transformed into “dog voice,” ratcheting up in pitch. “All right.”
    Arranging her bags, trying to unload the day, she dropped her cell phone out onto the counter and saw for the first time the eight waiting voicemails—all from the same number. All from Roderick.
    She shook her head. Part of her hesitated, her finger shaking over the delete button. She had heard it all before from him:
    “I’m so sorry for how things turned out. I think we both have things to apologize for. I’d love to sit down with you and talk it all over. Can we still be friends? All my thoughts are about you. When are you going to forgive me? Aren’t you always talking about how it’s best to forgive someone?”
    And so on and so on.
    Roderick was an obsessive. Like any obsessive, he didn’t want answers or closure, he just wanted more to obsess about. She hoped that eventually he would get the message that her cutting him off completely was the healthiest thing for both of them.
    Their relationship had only lasted eight months, but that was long enough to create a lot of unhealthy feelings. He wasn’t an addict—Olivia had been lucky enough to avoid that particular downfall of other people in her line of work, who couldn’t seem to stop wanting to fix the men and women they studied.
    But, that didn’t mean Roderick was without a mighty helping of problems. His surface was all easy, warm, hearty happiness. She thought he was even-tempered and happy—but all that boisterous exterior hid a twisted, insecure center that lashed out at her every chance it got, just because she was there in front of him when he felt down.
    She deleted the messages and fed the dogs, laying out their bowls in a row. Kip and Natalie characteristically mauled after their food, but Parker and Mason, sensing Olivia’s unease, merely gave their own meals a quick sniff and obligatory bite before sliding underneath Olivia’s feet.
    The dogs were good for that. Even without the pressure from Roderick, Olivia rarely came home feeling entirely herself. She invested so much into the people around her, every day, that it was a beautiful escape to come to these perfect furry beings, with simple, predictable needs and who thought she was terrific just for existing.
    Foregoing dinner once again (an unhealthy habit, she knew, but one that had become more and more frequent as of late), she decided to go work on her model in the back of the house.
    Olivia had, in recent months converted her own bedroom into a study of sorts. She slept entirely on the comfy couch in the living room, using her own bed as an extended sort of desk for all her painting materials.
    The command had come down from Harriet after she landed in the hospice: empty out my bedroom, for goodness's sake. I won't be needing it.
    Olivia had steadfastly refused. That could wait, certainly, at least for a little while. She didn’t like to sleep all that much anyway. Too often she had bad dreams, plagued by all manner of people telling her she wasn’t good enough. Her mother, disappointed. Dr. Strauss, shaking his head. Old patients wondering why they had relapsed after talking to her. Wasn't she supposed to do better?
    Her anxiety in action.
    The painting materials layered on her bed and the small desk with its built-in lamp were all for Olivia’s modeling hobby. She had started