“No worries. Aren’t you glad the auction is behind you?” Ellie asked, sliding a waiting pink champagne Olivia’s way. Their other friend, Jordan Krane, raised her own Tuesday-night drink in greeting. Pink champagne was their signature drink in both good times and bad.
“Yes, and I can’t thank you enough for orchestrating the event for me. That was an amazing gift, Ellie. Thank you. I know your time isn’t cheap,” Olivia said, taking a sip before smiling at her friends.
Ellie smiled in response, but Jordan’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s different about you.”
Olivia set her champagne down. “What do you mean? Nothing about me has changed.”
Jordan continued to eye her critically. “Your cheeks are flushed, and your mood is elevated,” the physician’s assistant said as though she were listing off the symptoms of a patient in the emergency room. Her eyes widened, and she snapped her fingers. “You’ve had sex.”
Olivia startled. Surely any sign she’d been with Max was gone—that was three days ago. How could Jordan possibly suspect anything?
Ellie’s smile increased. “Was it the guy from the other night? The one who wouldn’t leave your side at the auction?”
“Start talking.” Jordan leaned closer. “You know we’ll never let you alone until you tell us everything.”
Olivia sat back against her chair and released a nervous laugh. These two women knew her better than anyone else did. They’d been friends since high school. “I had a one-night stand.”
“With the guy?” Ellie exclaimed as she set her own drink aside. “Well, well, well. Congratulations.”
“You what?” Jordan’s green eyes rounded. “Who is this guy?”
Olivia allowed herself a small smile. “I don’t know really. His name is Max. He’s a very handsome mathematician, and he smells like oranges.”
“That’s all you know and you slept with him?” Jordan asked, her tone incredulous.
The people at the neighboring tables turned to stare, and Olivia could feel heat sting her cheeks. “It just happened. One minute we were talking, then—”
“That’s fantastic,” Ellie said as she reached over and patted Olivia’s arm. “You’ve moved on. That’s all I need to know.”
She had moved on, hadn’t she? Olivia mused. She was no longer under Damien’s spell. He’d cheated on her, broken her heart in front of the world.
That was over. His memory had been eradicated Saturday night in Max’s arms. A new chapter in her life had begun—whether it was with Mr. One-Night-Stand or someone else. It didn’t matter. Damien was gone.
“Well, I need to know more,” Jordan interrupted. “Are you going to see him again?”
Olivia shrugged. “I left before he woke up. We never exchanged any contact information.” She pursed her lips in thought. “I could probably go back and fish through all the ticket sale names if I got absolutely desperate. His e-mail address is sure to be there. But if it’s meant to be, our paths will cross again.”
Jordan frowned. “I can’t believe how cavalier you’re being about this. It’s so not like you.”
“Thank you, Jordan.” Olivia smiled at the backhanded compliment. “That’s the nicest thing you could’ve said to me. I’m ready for something new—a change.”
“Maybe all of our luck is changing,” Ellie said.
“What do you mean?” Olivia leaped at the new topic of conversation, grateful not to talk any more about her own outrageous behavior. She looked at her friend, noting the way Ellie’s burnished-gold hair spilled over her shoulders, making her look very high-fashion for a girl who usually wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“I had an intake appointment with a new client today. A big new client.” Ellie had started her own event-planner business a year ago and was finally starting to acquire clientele with deep pockets. She’d pulled off the wedding of the year between Internet celebrity Carla Mendoza and biotech guru Jason Wesley, and it had been fresh and elegant. Word had spread.
“You mean one with lots of money,” Jordan commented as she took a long sip of her champagne.
“Yes, the girl’s father is loaded,” Ellie said with her customary cheer. “The wedding is very hush-hush right now, but one of Seattle’s biggest socialites is getting married. I had to sign a gag order, so I can’t tell you who they are until the wedding.”
“Come on. You can tell us.” Jordan playfully narrowed her gaze on Ellie.
Ellie shook her head. “Nope. I stand to lose the entire contract and any future business from their contacts if I do.”
“I’m happy your business is doing well. You’ve worked hard. We’ve all been working hard,” said Olivia.
Jordan sighed. “Tell me about it, I’m pulling a double shift all weekend.”
Working as a physician’s assistant in the emergency room at a busy downtown hospital sounded about as much fun as the weekend Olivia had planned. She gave Jordan a “sorry” shrug. “At least you’ll get overtime.”
“That makes it hurt a little less,” Jordan replied with the hint of a smile. With her pale skin; short, black hair; and green eyes, Jordan’s Irish heritage was hard to deny. Her friend had a fiery temper to match.
“I’ll need a break this weekend even if Jordan’s not taking one. Want to do something?” Ellie asked Olivia.
“I can’t, sorry. I have a busy week ahead, finishing up all the financial reports from the auction—more than two hundred thousand dollars at this point, which is great. But the reports are due to the accountants by Monday morning, and I have all those thank-you notes to write. I’m going to need to the weekend to catch up on everything else.”
And perhaps after she finished her work, she might spend a little time trying to figure out who her romantic mystery man from the auction really was. Max Right . . . how many men with that name could there be in a city the size of Seattle who had also bought a ticket to her auction?
The next morning, Olivia sat in her downtown office on Western Avenue. The office had been built in the 1950s and most likely hadn’t been renovated since. Still, the building was serviceable and the view of Puget Sound superb when you could see it.
Yesterday’s sunshine had given way to the more typical rain of early spring. Thick, gray clouds crept toward one another and sent occasional drops downward. A breeze plastered the rain against her large window, obscuring her view of the Sound and everything else.
Olivia drew her gaze away from the window and stared down at the financial reports in her hands. They’d earned a total of $225,000 at the auction event. Her heart fluttered. She still couldn’t quite believe they’d raised so much money, and she needed to send a thank-you note to each and every donor.
The card for Max Right was next. Krissy, with her usual efficiency, had found not only Max’s home address but his e-mail address and phone number as well. If Olivia wanted to contact him, the task would be an easy one now. She set the slip of paper with his e-mail and phone number aside. Right now she had to tackle the thank-you note for him. He had paid for a ticket, and he’d given her foundation a $1,000 donation during the fund-a-need portion of the auction.
She could write her typical “thank you for your donation” message, but the words seemed so cold after everything that had passed between them that night. If she closed her eyes, she could still imagine the feel of his body pressed against her own. She’d wanted a fantasy that night—an escape from her normal, controlled self. Olivia opened her eyes, gazing at the droplets of rain as they raced down her window. Regardless of why, that night with Max had been one of the best of her life. Maybe supposing she’d never see him again had made every touch, every kiss, seem more magical than it had been. Or maybe, for the first time in her life, taking a risk had led to something great—something she wanted to do again . . . if only she had the nerve to ask or, in this case, write.
She ran her fingers over the matte finish of the card. She had his address. She could ask him on a real date. Writing him a note he could
ignore seemed less risky than calling him on the phone.
Quickly, before thinking about what she was doing, Olivia wrote her usual thank-you, then:
Meet me at the bottom of the stairs at the Olympic Sculpture Park on Saturday at three in the afternoon, if you think what we shared at the auction was special. Let’s spend time together in actual daylight.
Olivia signed the card, shoved it into its matching envelope with the Tomorrow Foundation logo on the front, and sealed it. She held the note above the pile with all the others, hesitating. But then she set it to the side. She might have written out her desire to see Max again, but she had to think about whether or not to send the note. Maybe it was better to leave what they’d shared alone, instead of ruining that one indulgent memory with a dose of reality. Her fingers still lingered on the envelope when the phone beside her buzzed.
“It’s Eugenia Miller on line one for you,” Krissy announced from her phone in the reception area of their humble office.
Olivia picked up the handset. “Hello, Mrs. Miller. How are you today?” Eugenia never called unless something was wrong.
“We need your help.”
Olivia knew the older woman’s frantic tone meant trouble. “What’s happened?” Eugenia and Henry Miller were foster parents for the Tomorrow Foundation. They’d transferred as licensed foster parents from the Washington State Department of Social and Health Services to the Tomorrow Foundation when Olivia had opened her doors two years ago. They were, in Olivia’s opinion, two of the very best foster parents anywhere.
“Please come over as soon as you can.” Eugenia’s voice was filled with worry. “Paige has disappeared again.”
With a sinking stomach, Olivia asked, “Have you called her social worker?”
“Yes,” Eugenia said. “They’re doing what they can, but nobody knows Paige better than you do. Please help.”
Olivia heard all the things Eugenia didn’t say—the fear, the what-ifs, the guilt. “On my way. I’m going to transfer you back to Krissy.” Olivia placed the call on hold and snagged her raincoat off the hook by her office door.
Krissy looked up as Olivia breezed by. “Had enough of writing thank-you notes?”
Olivia shook her head. “Looks like Paige ran away again.” Paige was one of the more troubled foster kids in their program. If any family could handle her, it was the Millers, and even they were having issues. “Mrs. Miller is still on the line. Can you get all the information and call the police for her?”
Krissy frowned as she reached for her phone. “No problem.”
They’d all been through this drill before with Paige. So far, the outcome with the troubled teen had always been favorable, but Olivia was not naive to the fact that real trouble could be just around the corner for the young girl. “Thanks, Krissy. I’ll call you with an update as soon as I know anything more.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Twenty minutes later, Olivia knocked on the front door of Henry and Eugenia’s Capitol Hill home. The door stood partially open, an invitation to enter. Olivia stepped inside. “Mrs. Miller?” she called, announcing herself as she headed toward the back of the house. She knew she’d find Henry and Eugenia in the kitchen, fretting over a freshly made pot of tea.
“In here,” Eugenia called.
Olivia had placed Paige with the older couple three months ago, promising the teenager that the Millers would be her “forever” family. At the memory, Olivia cringed. She’d wanted to soothe Paige, but she shouldn’t have said any such thing. Eugenia and Henry would never give up on Paige, but Paige might give up on them, school, and everything else in her life if she didn’t start having some success somewhere.
As soon as Olivia reached the kitchen, Eugenia excused their four other preteen foster children from the table. Once they’d left the room, Eugenia handed Olivia a note scrawled on the back of an envelope. “From Paige?”
Eugenia nodded, her face solemn.
Olivia took a moment and read the note, which said simply that Paige appreciated what the Millers had done for her. She needed space. She knew how to take care of herself. “How long has Paige been gone?” Olivia asked, setting the note on the table and dropping into an empty chair.
“Maybe an hour. We stepped out for a doctor’s appointment. We’ve been gone only that long, and this note certainly wasn’t there before we left. Paige must have come home from school, left the note, then run away. She didn’t even take a bag with her,” Eugenia cried. “I should have tried harder.”
“You both try harder than most. Paige needs to work harder on her issues herself,” Olivia replied in an earnest tone.
Henry’s brown eyes were wreathed with worry. “Please help us find her. We’ve never lost a kid before. Never.”
“You said you called Paige’s social worker?”
Eugenia nodded. “She was the first person we called, then you. You’ve been her mentor in the Gals and Pals program for a few months now. She responds to you better than anyone else in her life. Any ideas where she might be?”
Paige was her “Pal” as part of a program the Tomorrow Foundation had created. It had been easy to agree to the pairing when Krissy suggested it because Paige had reminded Olivia of herself at that age. “I have an idea of where to find her.”
The sixteen-year-old was having a hard time bonding, which wasn’t unusual for a kid who’d been physically abused by her own parents for years. Teenagers like Paige found it hard to trust anyone. Olivia knew this from experience.
She pushed the flicker of memory aside. She had to focus on Paige. Paige had left a note. That was a good sign. She’d never left a note before. It meant she cared how her new foster parents would react to her absence. Olivia reached for Henry’s and Eugenia’s hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll give you a call after I check a few places.”
Olivia stepped out of the house and into the cool March air. The weather at this time of year could go from sunny to rainy and back again over the course of a few hours. Prepared for anything, she tucked the collar of her raincoat more tightly around her neck and headed for her car. Within minutes, she’d left the serene neighborhood behind, heading into the chaotic streets of downtown Seattle. She parked below the modern aluminum-and-glass building that was the Seattle Central Library, then hurried up to the Starbucks Teen Center on the third floor.
Wednesday afternoon was a busy day at the library. Even so, Paige wasn’t hard to spot with her hair dyed that jet black. She sat in a plush chair with her legs curled beneath her, reading. Her bangs fell dramatically over one eye, shielding her partially from the world, while the rest of her hair stuck out in angry spikes.
“Paige,” Olivia said softly, standing before the teenager.
The teen gave a start, her feet hitting the ground. She lurched forward in the chair as though prepared to run. “You found me.”
“Don’t be afraid,” Olivia said, kneeling down beside the chair, careful to keep her head lower than the teenager’s. She wanted to meet Paige at her level and allow her to feel as though she had some power in the situation. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”
Paige had told her during one of their first Gals and Pals meetings that she’d been coming to the library since she was twelve years old. Looking at Paige now, Olivia could still see that reed-thin girl who tried to hide from her fears in the pages of an old book. Fantasy was Paige’s favorite, giving her an escape to worlds that were so different from her own.
“What do you think of the book?” Olivia asked, hoping Paige would talk to her not as a child to an adult, but as a friend. She wanted Paige to know she did have friends she could rely on.
Paige raked her dyed hair over her eye, concealing herself further. “What do you want?” She set her book beside her on the chair—C. S. Lewis’s The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. She slumped into the chair, sinking back into the image she’d created for herself of a girl who didn’t care—a rebel in a black hoodie—a girl no one expected anything of except a
sharp tongue and an angry look.
“School is over for the day, so I thought I’d take you home where you belong.”
Paige stared at her with her one uncovered eye, unblinking. “I don’t belong there. I don’t belong anywhere.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. The Millers are very worried about you right now.”
Paige shrugged and looked away. “That’s their problem.”
“No, Paige, it’s yours. Being part of a family takes work. They’re concerned about you. You left a note. That means you care about them, too.” Olivia paused when she noticed the teen’s fingers had started shaking.
Paige balled her hands into fists, fighting against the expression of emotion, and looked everywhere in the room except into Olivia’s eyes.
Olivia pressed the issue. “Let me take you back to that life, to a place where you’ll be safe.”
“I like it here.” Defiance brought Paige’s gaze back to Olivia’s.
“What’ll you do when the library closes? You’ll be forced out onto the streets. Will you find a shelter, or will you sleep in a doorway, hoping no one notices the pretty young girl beneath that black hoodie of yours?”
“I can handle it,” Paige said, her voice trailing off, as though suddenly remembering the horrors she would face in another few hours if she stayed her present course.
“Can you? You’ll be hungry and scared and all alone. I know. I’ve been there.” Olivia looked Paige in the face. “I made some bad choices when I was exactly your age. I was angry with the world just like you until I figured out that I had a choice. I could stay angry with everyone and everything for what had happened to me, or I could ask for help.”
Paige shrugged. “I don’t need help. I’m fine on my own.”
“Everyone needs a little help sometimes.” Olivia’s gaze dropped to the back of Paige’s hand and the three razor-thin scars that bisected her flesh. As a child, Paige had been hurt very badly by someone she’d trusted. That pain was still there, even though she refused to acknowledge it.
Along Came Mr. Right Page 3