by Lori Flynn
She yawned, dropping a Louis Vuitton carryall from her shoulder to the foyer’s hardwood floor with a thud before reaching over her head in a long stretch. Having just drunk her way through a turbulent flight, she credited her Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps for keeping her vertical.
“Who wants me—Professor Plum? Should I bring a candlestick?” She rolled her eyes at his blank expression. “It’s from Clue. Maybe if you left this mausoleum once in a while, James, you’d get one,” she said to his back as he exited.
Elizabeth allowed her curiosity to pique. Could it be a surprise? She had friends. When she swung open the library doors, she wished she’d just gone to bed.
Catherine’s attorney stood behind the massive desk. Catherine sat off to the side and glared her way. What looked like X-rays and documents were positioned around the top of the desk. As Elizabeth stepped farther into the room, the doors behind her slammed shut.
“What’s going on here? Can’t whatever this is hold until tomorrow? I just got in from Vegas.”
“Sorry to inconvenience you, Mrs. Harding.” Jonathan Tate worked to keep his tone even. “We’ll try to be as quick as possible. There’re a few legal matters regarding the minor child, Olivia.”
“Let me save y’all some time. Olivia is my kid, and she’s going to stay my kid. There’s nothing any of you can do about that. So, I’ll say goodnight and be on my way.” Elizabeth turned on her steep heel and stepped toward the door.
“Biologically, Mrs. Harding, you’re correct. However, we’re prepared to tell the world what kind of mother you’ve been.” Jonathan stalled her progress. “With the mountain of evidence we’ve compiled, you could be an old woman before you return to the social status you’ve held so dear—if they welcome you back at all. Your crowd will put up with adulterers, thieves, even murderers, given the right circumstances—but child abusers? I think not.”
Elizabeth threw her hands in the air, aiming her glare toward Catherine. “So, what do you want from me?”
Her mother-in-law met her stare, remaining silent, offering a cynical grin. In her Hillary Clinton pantsuit and a battle-ready tilt of her head, she looked like the queen posing for her stamp.
Jonathan cleared his throat to regain Elizabeth’s attention while placing two documents on the desk within her reach. “By signing this,” he nodded towards the contract nearest his right hand, “you agree to have no further contact with Olivia Parker Harding. The contract encompasses visits of any kind, phone calls, letters, emails, and text messages from you or anyone doing business like you. If you should breach this contract in any form, legal action will be taken against you.”
Elizabeth shifted her eyes from Jonathan to Catherine as she sighed. She folded her arms over her chest. The beat of her tapping Jimmy Choo echoed through the room.
Jonathan rolled his shoulders, as beads of sweat headed down his back beneath his perfectly fitted suit, before he continued. "The second contract involves your finances. Catherine is willing to double the allowance your deceased husband left you as an incentive to follow the rules.
“To make this clear, Elizabeth,” Jonathan leaned over the desk, “you can continue to live in this house, since Olivia’s afraid to come here. You’ll receive double the allowance, as long as you honor these contracts. Should you contact Olivia, other than through me, you’ll be cut off without a dime to call your public defender with.”
“But what’ll people think of me if my kid is living with her?” Elizabeth stuck her hands on her hips and angled her chin at Catherine.
“They’ll think you’re wise since Olivia will be attending one of the most exclusive boarding schools in the country.” Jonathan slid his hands in his pockets.
“Hell, I’ll sign your damn contracts to get the two of you off my ass. That kid has caused me nothing but grief since the day I had her.” Signing one, then the other, she gave her mother-in-law a quick glance.
“Are y’all done with me now? Am I free to go? You take care of yourself now, Catherine. You’re not looking so good.” Elizabeth turned on her stiletto and headed for the doors.
“You just remember what you signed, and our paths should rarely have to cross, Elizabitch,” Catherine answered.
“I knew she learned that from you,” Elizabeth said, turning to face Catherine once again.
“What are you talking about?” Catherine questioned.
“What you just called me—Elizabitch—it’s your perfect little granddaughter’s favorite pet name for me,” Elizabeth said as she left the library.
*
Jonathan Tate glanced at Catherine. He put aside his documents and moved to her side. “I hate to agree with Elizabeth, but you’re not looking so good. You’re pale.”
“Good job today, Jonathan.” The weight of Elizabeth’s words had tightened her chest and shortened her breath. “I won’t let our deal with the devil send me to my grave. Can you do one more thing for me?”
“Of course, how can I help?”
“Call my cardiologist.”
Part Two
Chapter Ten
Olivia
A crisp breeze set palm fronds waving along the Florida sky as Olivia rushed toward the campus coffee shop. Jonathan Tate had called to remind her of their early January meeting. No doubt he’d be waiting. She was already late. And if she’d learned anything in her twenty-one years, it was that her responsibilities as sole heir of Harding Enterprises should never be taken lightly.
As she hurried her stride, she thought of the lengths her grandmother had gone to in selecting ideal boarding and prep schools—schools that not only provided the highest scholastic standards but a select enrollment. The student body, who’d known public fame and notoriety, had bonded with her like kindred spirits. College had done little to alter her life, with the campus as well as her apartment situated within a five-mile radius of her close circle of friends.
Pushing through the door of the quaint shop, a subtle, rich aroma welcomed her. She returned the smile Jonathan Tate offered from his seat in the corner booth. She’d been made aware of the part he’d played in securing her future, and he had earned her respect.
“It’s good to see you. You look wonderful. And those grey eyes—the same as your father’s—it’s like they can see into my soul. Please, forgive me, but I have to ask, do you ever eat? I think you’re thinner than the last time we met. Let me order you a muffin with your coffee.” He signaled for the waitress as Olivia settled across from him.
Olivia smiled, corralling her nut-brown hair cascading down her back, securing it over her shoulder. “I’ll have just the coffee, please. You ask me that same question every time, and every time I say the same thing. My weight’s fine. It’s because I’m tall. Your concern is touching, Mr. Tate, but unnecessary.”
She looked on as he placed documents on the table for her signature. For the next hour, Olivia read while Jonathan interpreted the legal terminology. She’d never sign what she hadn’t fully read or didn’t understand. When the last paper was taken care of, Jonathan folded his arms, doing his best to dart his eyes from hers.
“You know, for a lawyer, you don’t have a good poker face. You may as well tell me whatever it is you’re trying not to before you implode.”
“It’s your mother. As you know, she remarried about a year ago, and it seems she’s given birth to twins. Elizabeth promised her new husband what his previous wives had been unable to do—give him children. According to my sources, the DNA tests prove she’s pulled it off, an heir with a spare. She wants her new family to meet you. Since any requests for contact have to go through my office, I get to be the messenger.”
Olivia rubbed her temples. “What she wants is a photo-op for some tabloid. We both know it.”
“Your grandmother, although I won’t repeat what she said, has graciously volunteered to accompany you. Olivia, are you still suffering from migraines?”
“Yes to the migraines, no to my grandmother’s offer,” she said, raising her palm
between them. "You know how Grandmother Catherine reacts to my mother. She’s survived two major heart attacks. I won’t allow this to cause a third.
“Where my headaches are concerned, my doctors seem to think they’re stress related because of my class load. I’m not convinced. I’m at the end of my MBA courses and have yet to feel challenged. I promise, if it doesn’t improve soon, I’ll see yet another doctor. And you know how much I love doctors.”
“Yes Olivia, I know, and attorneys, except for me. Let me know what you decide about seeing your mother, and I’ll have a car sent for you. I’m sure Catherine and Nanny would love to have you visit for a whole weekend at Casa Nonna.”
“I’ll give it some thought.” Olivia finished her coffee and then paused before leaving the table. “Who will protect the twins, Mr. Tate?”
*
The intercom in Olivia’s foyer sprang to life. The car she’d been awaiting, dreading, had arrived. She knew all along she had to go, had to face down her mother, to see for herself that the twins were all right. Grabbing her purse and a small suitcase, she set the alarm system, seeing her two roommates were away for the weekend as well. She locked the door and then hurried to the elevator. When she slid into the spacious back seat, the chilled air gave her goosebumps.
Her driver was a dark and hefty man with a neck that appeared thicker in diameter than her thigh. As they rounded a corner, his mammoth hands seemed to dwarf the wheel. Entirely bald, he wore dark aviator glasses, and when he smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, she felt more protected than threatened.
“My name’s Diamond, and I’m at your service,” he said.
Returning his smile, Olivia suspected she was dropped into a James Bond movie. Laying her head against the cool leather seat, she settled in for the long ride. She hadn’t seen her mother since she was a child. She wondered if Elizabeth ever thought of her.
Olivia wasn’t surprised that her mother had remarried. Perhaps she felt her youthful looks had begun to fade. After all, she was forty-one. It was the pregnancy that she’d found shocking. Why would Elizabeth saddle herself with another child, never mind two, after her epic fail the first time?
They drove on. She could see Diamond watching her in the rear-view mirror over his shaded glasses.
“So, what’s your story? If you don’t mind me noticing, you look more like a defensive end than a chauffeur. Do you work strictly for Mr. Tate?”
Diamond’s deep laugh vibrated through the car. “I’ve done work for Mr. Tate, but Lady Catherine and I go way back.”
“Not so far back. I would’ve remembered you.” Olivia offered a smile in the mirror. “My guess is my grandmother hired you as my bodyguard for the day.”
“She told me you were a smart one,” he said, laughing. “Lady Catherine wants me to stick to you like white on rice.”
“That sounds like my grandmother.” Olivia grinned at the thought of her strait-laced grandmother instructing this giant of a man on how to do his job. “I think I should be fine. Just stay close enough for a quick getaway.”
“Your grandmother thought you’d say that. She asked me to give you this.” Diamond reached over the seat and handed Olivia a small jewelry box. It contained Catherine’s cameo brooch. “It’s equipped with a listening device, so I can hear what goes on inside that house.”
With the James Bond theme running through her mind, Olivia didn’t hesitate; she fastened the brooch to her blouse. “You’ve done things like this before, I can tell.”
“You can rest assured, Miss Olivia. I spent years in the military and have been well-trained. Would a code word help ease your nerves? If you feel the situation going south, say the word and I’ll get you out of there.”
“That sounds like a good idea. How does ‘help’ grab you?”
Diamond grinned. “I’ll use my judgment as to when your party’s over—if that’s cool with you.”
Olivia nodded and then stared out the dark-tinted window. The knot in her stomach twisted as they pulled through the winding drive of the main house. For a moment, she considered having him turn around.
“I got your six,” Diamond said, as she left the cool security of the car.
She counted the stairs as she climbed them. The ornate doors opened wide with her approach, and she was welcomed in by James. He was older but had retained his kind smile.
Her mother entered the foyer with her arms opened wide and a smile that stretched her face. Breath froze in Olivia’s throat as she greeted her with a nod. She swallowed with difficulty, while her shaky hand hovered over the broach, unable to find her voice. Nothing short of a court order could make her walk willingly into the monster’s arms.
Standing by her mother’s side was a distinguished gentleman, snow-white hair pulled back in a band at the nape of his neck. Elizabeth’s blonde mane was cut into a shoulder-length bob. She’d made some plastic surgeons wealthy men. To her credit, it was difficult to tell that she’d recently given birth to twins.
Elizabeth’s mouth pulled into a sour grin. “Olivia, I must say, you’ve become a lovely woman. The resemblance to your father is uncanny. I’d like you to meet my husband, Vernon Crawford. He’s been living overseas for years, which is why he hasn’t collected any real estate to speak of as yet here in the United States. The legal agreement I signed ended the day I remarried. That lawyer told me you said I could stay until we find something suitable. I should thank you.”
Ignoring her mother’s words, Olivia addressed Vernon. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Crawford. Congratulations on the birth of your twins. I’d love to see them.”
With the mention of his heirs, Olivia noticed Vernon’s eyes brighten. He led the way to the living room. When they walked by the window seat, she smiled, remembering sitting there holding her doll as she waited for her father to return home from one of his business trips. In the center of the spacious room stood two identical cradles: one lined in pink, the other blue. With Vernon at her side, Olivia crept over and peeked inside. The babies smiling back had sweet blonde curls and marine blue eyes, replicas of their mother, minus the evil sneer.
“We’ve named them Samuel and Shelby,” Vernon said, beaming with pride. “I must say, Olivia, I don’t know much about you; only a few snippets your mother—”
“The photographers are here; let’s take a few pictures and send them on their way.” Elizabeth burst into the room, throwing her hands up, interrupting her husband.
While Elizabeth smiled wide for the camera, Olivia kept her face composed, guarded. Vernon groaned over the time the photographer took between shots.
It wasn’t long before Olivia again gravitated to the cooing babies. Vernon, maintaining a vigil by their cradles, offered a smile.
“You look nothing like your mother.” Vernon stared as he spoke. “When the twins were born, the fact that they resembled Elizabeth seemed to be the only thing she cared about. It makes more sense now.”
Olivia blushed at his scrutiny. “Do you mind if I hold one?”
The request caused Vernon to hesitate. “Do you think that would be wise? Are you permitted to be alone with children?”
“Just what did my mother tell you, Mr. Crawford?” As the words left her mouth, the light around her seemed to dim as though a cloud had just moved over the sun. And when Diamond’s mammoth hand covered her shoulder, it was as comforting as a hot bath on a cold day.
“Party’s over, Miss Olivia,” Diamond said softly while steering her towards the foyer.
Vernon tapped him on the shoulder. “Does she need to be watched?”
“Not watched, old man, protected. Keep that in mind,” Diamond said, pointing toward the cradles.
Olivia concentrated on her breathing, leaving Diamond to negotiate the long drive. She’d stopped counting at five the number of times she thanked him. Methodically rubbing her temples, she grabbed a cold drink from the minibar, swallowing her migraine medication before settling down on the plush leather seat for a nap. In what seemed like only
moments, the rhythmic motion of the car slowed, and they stopped at Casa Nonna.
The welcome-home dinner, comfortable and informal, lingered long into the night. Christian and Maria Garcia were there for the celebration. Diamond declined Olivia’s invitation to join them, citing a cryptic errand, but promised to deliver her to her apartment the following day.
After dinner, Olivia wandered the gracious rooms of Casa Nonna. For the most part, it was as though time had stood still. But with strategically placed defibrillators, blood pressure cuffs tucked into chairs, along with numerous bottles of medications decorating table surfaces, her gut sparked in fear.
“When am I going to get details about how it went with your mother today?” Catherine asked, catching up with Olivia.
“I guess when I get the facts about your health.”
“My health is fine. I have so many doctors, I can’t keep them all straight. But I get the best of care. Besides, Nanny hovers over me day and night.”
“My mother doesn’t matter. So, let’s leave it at that,” She kissed her grandmother’s cheek and then watched her climb the stairs so she could retire for the night.
Olivia headed for the beach, with hopes a walk along the water would settle her restless mind. She walked for what felt like miles until she no longer had thoughts of her day, mother, or the cradles—pink or blue. She turned back as the morning sun rose over the horizon.
Olivia hugged her grandmother goodbye. “Thank you for Diamond. I don’t know where you found him, and I probably don’t want to.”
“Sweetheart,” Catherine said, “don’t worry about what you mentioned to Mr. Tate. You know, about protecting the twins? It’s been taken care of.” After one last hug, Olivia slid into the backseat and Diamond shut the heavy door.
“I assume last night’s errand, delivering Olivia’s X-rays and my forewarning note to the pediatric group taking care of Elizabeth’s twins, was uneventful?” Catherine said in a hushed tone to Diamond.