I don’t remember him ever calling me his ‘little’ sister and in this context, he is wielding it like a weapon.
“Don’t patronize me,” I say. “And Nicholas did not make up the story about the rug. I did sell it to a woman I found through her magazine ad. It was big and unwieldy so she brought a few moving people to help her carry it.”
This shuts him up but only for a moment.
“It doesn’t change the fact that Nicholas is a dangerous man.”
I roll my eyes and walk away from him.
At the bottom of my dresser, I find clean sheets and start to make the couch into his bed for the night.
When Nicholas first told the cops the rug story, I thought that he was betraying her.
But now I realize that she’s our plan B, my alibi.
She wasn’t hiding the fact that she was there.
In reality, she made quite a show of it.
The neighbors saw her, too.
And she even brought the magazine with her ad inside and circled it as I would have done if any of that were true.
I pull on the pillowcase and wish him good night.
“Why would I lie about this?” Owen asks. “I’m your brother and I love you.”
“I don’t think you’re lying. I think you’re just mistaken.”
“His partner ended up dead. They were best friends and he just killed him so that he could keep the whole necklace to himself.”
Shivers run down my spine.
I don’t know anything about this and it’s possible that this part is true.
“He wouldn’t do that,” I say categorically, not wanting Owen to know that I have even a glimmer of doubt.
“Yes, he would,” Owen insists. “He did lots of bad things, Olive, I know that you don’t want to believe that but he did.”
The conversation is going in circles, sapping me from energy with each passing minute.
Owen doesn’t stop talking until I close my bedroom door in his face.
I hate to admit it but Owen is right.
I don’t really know much about Nicholas’ past, but a part of me doesn’t really want to.
What if he did kill his partner?
Is that something that I even want to know?
These thoughts swirl around my head deep into the night.
Eventually, I do fall asleep but it is not particularly restful or fulfilling.
I wake up even more tired than I was before, only this time I am also parched.
After gulping down two glasses of water in the bathroom, I pick up my phone. No texts from Nicholas. Damn.
Are you up? I write.
No, he texts back almost immediately. I smile.
I want you.
I’ll be right over.
My fingers start to text no, but I stop myself.
Okay.
I run my tongue over my lower lip.
A part of me thinks that he is joking, but I still change out of my pajamas.
Fifteen minutes later, my phone vibrates again.
I’m downstairs.
I open the door to my bedroom carefully and tiptoe through the living room.
I grasp onto the keys in my hand so hard that my palm starts to throb and I wonder if there’s going to be a mark.
The problem is the front door. It squeaks.
I inhale and turn the bolt lock to the right.
If Owen were to wake up, he would be in the perfect position to witness my escape.
But he lets out a big snore and turns toward the inside of the couch.
Without wasting another second, I open the door and shut it quickly behind me.
“Hey, stranger,” I say, getting into Nicholas’ car. “I’ve missed you.”
12
Olive
When we meet again …
Dressed in a black tie and dress shirt, his eyes are a perfect complement to his tie. My heart rate speeds up and my lips part in surprise.
There’s an alluring smell to him.
It’s not cologne or body wash, it is something else completely different.
He smells like the Nicholas Crawford I met in Hawaii: shrewd, assertive, and confident.
My mouth waters for him.
When he reaches over to give me a kiss, I catch a glimpse of his white gold cufflinks and the diamond studded watch.
Our lips touch and I hear the pounding of my pulse in my head.
The electricity sends shockwaves through me.
He’s no stranger and yet I feel like I’m seeing him for the first time.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.
He puts his hand on my thigh and every part of me yearns for him. I’m filled with restless energy that only one thing can fix.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I say, licking my dry lips. “Why are you dressed like this?”
Despite the fight with Owen and the conversation with the cops only a few hours ago, Nicholas looks like a Master of the Universe type.
Perfectly pressed pants.
Exquisite suit.
Tie with a tie clip.
His hair is slicked back with product, but not so much to make him appear desperate.
“What’s going on with us?” I ask.
This isn’t the best time for this conversation but I was under the impression that we were going to go to a hotel.
And now, I’m not so sure.
“What do you mean?” he asks, stepping on the accelerator to rush through the intersection when the light turns yellow.
“I hate to say it but I thought this was going to be something of a booty call.”
“Oh, you did?” he says, raising one eyebrow. I shrug. “And now?”
“Well, now I see you dressed like this and I’m not so sure.”
He smiles out of the corner of his lips.
He is toying with me and he likes it.
We haven’t played this game for a while and I have missed it.
Does he want me?
Do I want him?
These questions don’t matter.
What matters is what am I going to do to him.
And what is he going to do to me?
I want to press the matter further but instead I sit back in my seat and wait. I am okay with any eventuality.
Another job? I am dressed in yoga pants and a sweatshirt with a tea stain down one arm, but why the hell not? I’m down.
Nicholas turns up the music as we drive down the winding empty streets.
The cobblestones underneath the tires make the ride bumpy, arousing me even more, if that were possible.
“Pull over,” I say, running my hand up his thigh.
He smiles again without saying a word.
“We’re almost there,” he says after a moment.
I move my hand but he puts it back in place.
He wants me as much as I want him.
Is that even possible?
We pull into an opulent old hotel with an elaborate awning.
An eager valet runs around the front of the car to get the door for Nicholas and another opens mine.
After the keys are exchanged, I follow Nicholas through the elegant double doors that another person opens for us.
We are a study in opposites.
Nicholas is dressed in an understated but very expensive suit along with stacked heel, seamed toe, leather shoes.
When he moves his arms, his cufflinks catch the light and blind me for a moment.
When I move my arms, my oversized sweatshirt with the cut off collar makes a loud chaffing sound.
I’m wearing thirty-dollar tennis shoes that I got on sale and debated whether I had paid too much for.
My stringy and unwashed hair is tied up in a loose bun with a fifty-cent scrunchy.
I was relieved when they came back into fashion because they don’t pull my hair as much as regular hair ties and I think they look nice knotted around my wrist.
I follow Nicholas toward the elevators and take his hand
into mine while we wait.
“Is this a job?” I ask.
“What do you think?” he asks, wrapping his hands around my hand.
“If it were, I would’ve thought you would at least have the courtesy to tell me something about it,” I point out. He smiles.
“Let’s put it this way, it’s a job for you.”
My lips form into a smile.
What could he mean by that?
He gazes into my eyes.
I stare back trying to read them.
“I told you, I’m not going to be with you as part of any…” I pause, trying to find the right word.
“Yes?” he prompts me.
“I’m not going to bed with you as part of any offer.”
“You mean, I get to sleep with you for…free?” He mocks me. I roll my eyes in desperation. Why does he have to be so…smart? I guess, if he weren’t then I wouldn’t want him so much.
He’s attractive, of course.
But that is not enough for me.
If he didn’t say things that took me aback and surprised me then I wouldn’t be here.
I wouldn’t crave him so much.
He grabs me as soon as we reach the door.
He presses me against the wall and I wrap my legs around him.
He tries to stick the card into the reader while we kiss without much success.
Finally, I push him away for a moment, grab the card, and slide it down.
When the green light comes on, I open the door.
We practically run over to the bed.
It’s tall and I bounce as I toss myself onto it. Nicholas jumps on top of me and our bodies collide.
The impact makes us both laugh.
“It’s nice to be here with you,” Nicholas says, after a moment.
The laughter disappears, leaving only the remnants of a smile on his lips and in his eyes.
“I like it here,” I say.
He turns his body on his side, propping his head up with his hand. He uses the other to move a strand of hair off my cheek.
“So…what are we, Olive?” he asks, examining the strand carefully as if he is looking for split ends.
“What do you mean?” I ask, pulling my hair away from him and sitting up with my legs crossed.
“I like you, Olive. A lot.”
“Well…thank you,” I say, keenly aware of how different the mood suddenly is.
“Do you like me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like other people?”
I look up at the unmoving blades of the ceiling fan above our heads.
“I don’t know what you are getting at,” I say.
“I’m just wondering where this is going,” Nicholas says, sitting up next to me.
“I don’t know. I thought I was working with you. I thought we were partners.”
“We are,” he agrees. “I was just wondering if you wanted to be anything more than that?”
13
Olive
When we kiss again …
Is he really asking me this? I wonder.
“Do you want to be exclusive?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says without a second of hesitation.
I want to smile but I keep it to myself. I want to hear more.
“Why?” I ask.
“I want you. I don’t want anyone else to have you.”
“So…what would that mean then?”
“It means I want you to be mine. Officially.”
I lie down on my back, thinking about the proposition.
What is he asking me really?
“So, do you want me to be your girlfriend?” I ask. “Is this what you’re saying?”
He leans over to me and turns my chin toward his.
“I want you to be mine,” he says.
A cold shiver runs down my spine as the hairs on the back of my arm stand upright.
“What about the offer?” I ask.
“Professionally, you would still be my partner for a year, but in our personal life, we would be more than that.”
I want him to say the word girlfriend but he is just dancing around the topic. But maybe that’s not what he means at all. Maybe he wants me to be his without him being mine?
“What about you?” I ask.
His eyes meet mine. He tilts his head.
“What if I don’t want anyone else to have you either?” I ask.
“No one else will. I’m yours.”
“So…that’s it?” I ask. “Neither of us will date anyone else from this point on?”
He nods and brings his face closer to mine.
“I am yours and you are mine,” he whispers.
My lips part to welcome his. Our tongues touch. He buries his hand in my hair and pulls me down underneath him.
I put my thoughts aside and let my body take over.
One moment, his lips are on my mouth and the next they are moving down my neck.
One moment, his hands are in my hair and the next they are moving down my back.
My eyes close as I press my body against his. Heat radiates from his skin, engulfing mine, only flaming my desire for him.
When his lips come back to mine, our kisses quicken with need as our mouths work hard to consume one another’s.
My hands run down his body.
His chest moves up and down with each breath and the muscles in his tight stomach flex and relax.
Whatever thoughts occupied my mind only moments before disappear as I lose myself in anticipation of what’s about to come.
My hand slides down the front of his pants and as I unzip the front, I know that he’s as aroused as I am.
We have been here so many times before.
All of the almost-moments and all of the interruptions have taken a toll and now I don’t want to waste a second.
The way that Nicholas is taking off my clothes, I know that I am not alone. The way he snaps on the condom, I know that we both want the same thing.
I lick my parched lips as his lips run down my body. His are both soft and firm and there’s a gentleness with which he kisses first my collarbone, then my breasts, my stomach, and finally right along my panty line.
I bury my hands in his hair as his kisses become more fervent and urgent. I want him to linger and to take his time but another part of me doesn’t want to tempt fate.
Of all the times we have been together, almost together, we have never gone all the way. I can’t handle another temptation.
I will not stand for another tease.
I tug at his hair and pull his chin upward so that our eyes meet again.
“Come here,” I whisper and pull his face back up to mine.
I direct his mouth to mine and lose myself in a deepening kiss.
With his chest on top of mine, I listen to our raging heartbeats, not sure which one belongs to him and which one to me.
I open my legs for him and he pushes himself deep inside. My back arches as we start to move as one.
My skin is damp and hot, filled with electricity.
My breasts bounce as we rock back and forth. My legs spread further apart with each breath and my toes tense up. The steady pace suddenly speeds up.
My heart starts to beat faster and faster along with each thrust. A familiar tingling starts at the tips of my hands and rushes quickly throughout my body.
I grab onto his smooth, strong buttocks and push him deeper inside of me. The warm sensation catches me by surprise as my body clenches up to hold on for the ride.
A moment later, he collapses on top of me, also completely spent.
14
Olive
When we fight…
I stay the night in Nicholas’ hotel room and only go home in the morning. I wake up around seven to get back to the apartment before Owen wakes up.
But as soon as I step through the front door, I see him.
He’s wide awake, sitting at the dining room table, waiting.
The television isn’t on and there isn
’t a book in sight.
“Where were you?” he asks in the tone of a concerned father.
Not mine but the ones I’ve only seen on the screen.
I drop my bag on the floor and head straight to the coffee pot without saying a word.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he asks.
“I don’t owe you an explanation, Owen. I’m a grown woman.”
“I was worried.”
I shrug my shoulders. “You have no right to be worried.”
A part of me is flattered by his protectiveness.
It shows that he cares.
At least, that’s what we women have been trained to believe. But another part sees it as controlling.
The only reason he is claiming that he’s worried is because he has a bad history with Nicholas.
“I don’t understand how this concerns you,” I say, taking a sip of the coffee. It’s way too hot, burning the roof of my mouth. But I hide the pain.
“I already told you, Olive. He’s a very dangerous man. You shouldn’t be working with him. And you shouldn’t be sleeping with him.”
“What about dating?” I ask, tilting my chin in the air. “Is dating okay?”
Owen looks as if he had the wind knocked out of him.
“Tell me that’s not true,” he says when he regains his ability to speak. I fold my hands across my chest.
“Yes, it is and it’s none of your business,” I say.
I grab my favorite seat in the wingback chair next to the living room.
This is where I like to curl up to read, but this morning, I use it like a throne.
I sit with my legs wide open, grabbing on to the arm rests with both hands.
My back is perfectly straight.
There’s nothing dainty about this. It makes me feel powerful and strong.
How dare he come into my life, my home, and question my decisions?
How dare he tell me what to do?
“I just don’t get it, Olive,” Owen says. “I mean, what the hell do you even see in him?”
“I would answer that question if I knew that you were genuinely interested. But you don’t care. You hate him and you want me to hate him, too. Well, that’s not going to happen.”
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