I Love You to Pieces

by Lori Flynn

  “You’ve assumed correctly.”

  “Thank you, Diamond, for everything.”

  “It’s always a pleasure, Lady Catherine.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Olivia

  Diamond delivered Olivia to her apartment as promised. Her headache persisted, while her drugs had left her sluggish. She yawned, feeling like she could sleep for a week.

  She closed the drapes, pitching her bedroom into darkness but for the glow from the alarm clock, and then burrowed beneath her covers. She’d have pulled the plug on the clock, if not for the online class she’d agreed to take for her roommate, Jill, who’d be traveling when it was scheduled. Olivia had volunteered to jot down some notes, so Jill would get the credit she needed. Settling in for a few glorious hours of sleep, Olivia’s thoughts focused on her roommates as she drifted off.

  Melody Hendricks and Jill Beilman had accepted Olivia ungrudgingly and bolstered their small army with her inclusion. They were survivors, each with stories of unmerciful childhoods. Olivia considered them sisters.

  Three steady knocks, a pause, followed by three more knocks jolted Olivia from the depths of sleep, driving away the tapping of her mother’s stiletto heels echoing through her ears. Jill’s telltale, OCD-driven signal had her glance at the clock before rolling to her feet and racing to the door.

  “I’ll be right there, Jill,” Olivia called, dreading sharing the news that she feared she’d slept through the online class. Jill, the daughter of a renowned Hollywood actress, hopelessly addicted to drink, the latest substance, and men, had been perfect prey for the bottom feeders her mother left behind while sleeping off her high. The authorities had removed the green-eyed beauty, leaving her with an obsessive-compulsive disorder that kept her cleaning. And broken plans made her jumpy.

  “Jill, I’m so sorry. I had another dreadful migraine and fell asleep.”

  Jill raised her palm, curtailing the needless apology. “It’s all right. I just wanted to let you know I was back in case you heard someone in the apartment. And thank you, these are the best notes. Pretty simple stuff for you; you could’ve written this course yourself. I never noticed it before, but your handwriting is gorgeous.” She held her notebook, so Olivia could appreciate the lacey script gracing the pages. “Nice toes, by the way,” Jill added, walking away, her strawberry blonde ponytail swinging behind her.

  Olivia sighed deeply over Jill’s notes and the lacey handwriting that, for as long as she could remember, had shown up in her notebooks. Her eyes dropped to her feet then widened. In the stream of light peeking through the door, she saw that her toes were not her usual French—the color they were when she’d fallen asleep—but were now showcased in hot neon pink. She’d give a kidney for a logical explanation. She couldn’t explain what she didn’t understand. Rubbing her temples, she knew the time had come to consult another specialist.

  *

  At the end of the next week, the women met at a local gun range. Olivia was last to arrive.

  “How was your visit with the new doctor?” Jill asked.

  “Don’t get me started.” Olivia dragged her hand through her hair. “He prescribed three more medications than I’m already taking and suggested that I consider birth control pills to even out my hormone levels. Me, on the pill, can you imagine?”

  “Most women our age are either pregnant or are already on the pill,” Melody said with a labored groan. “I think you spent too long with those nuns. They messed with your mind. Wouldn’t it be worth it to be rid of those debilitating headaches?”

  “Maybe I’m overreacting,” Olivia said, looking away. She knew full well the doctor wasn’t at fault. She’d only made him aware of her migraines and not any of the strange occurrences affecting her life, in fear of his diagnosis.

  “Be glad he didn’t try to limit your coffee,” Jill laughed. “That would’ve made you mad. Now let’s go shoot. You can picture your doctor’s face on the target.”

  “That’s a bit severe,” Olivia said while adjusting her goggles and aptly loading the Glock she’d chosen. “The mood I’m in today, maybe the gun range isn’t the best place for me.” Steadying her stance, she aimed at her target.

  Hurrying home after a long day of classes the next afternoon, Olivia trained her eyes on the threatening sky. She was looking forward to the night out she’d planned with her roommates. With her fast approaching graduation, time restraints made scheduling difficult.

  Within feet of her building, the angry cluster of clouds released its downpour. She quickened her pace, pulling an umbrella from her oversized purse, dragging with it a pink patterned scarf, made of what looked like silk, and sporting a security tag securely attached at its end. Breathless, her body stiffened while the rain dousing her face reminded her to open the umbrella.

  She pushed the scarf to the very bottom of her purse. The blame would land on the mix of her meds—as it had with the rest of the collection that she had no memory of taking, fostering similar tags—all hidden in her room.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Harding,” said the doorman. “It doesn’t look as though that umbrella did you much good. You’re soaked to the bone.”

  “It’s coming down out there.” Olivia feigned a smile, distracted by a suited man hovering in the shadows of the charming lobby, speaking softly into his wrist. When the elevator opened to a similarly attired gentleman lurking just outside her apartment, her concern heightened.

  Without establishing eye contact, the man blocking the door shifted to allow Olivia entrance. She spotted Jill working in the kitchen, busily scrubbing the countertops with fervor.

  “Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Olivia asked.

  Jill turned, dropping her sponge, crossing to where Olivia stood. “It’s Melody—she did it again. But I came home and caught her this time. The doctor is in with her now.”

  “Oh Lord, do you know what set her off?” Olivia asked, raking her hand through her hair.

  “What else? There’s been another attempt on her father’s life. Now we’re all under police surveillance again. Didn’t you notice the guards on your way in?”

  “I noticed,” Olivia said, starting to pace. “What did she do this time?”

  “Pills—a shitload of them—like her mother. Only her mother was successful, not that I blame her after her only son was kidnapped from his bed and murdered. What is it these people want from her big-shot music producer father anyway?”

  “I don’t know, but every time there’s a new threat, it dredges up the pain Melody has worked so hard to bury,” Olivia said.

  When the doctor readied to leave, he did so with a lecture directed at Olivia and Jill, mostly, Olivia felt, stemming from frustration. Olivia felt the same. Since he’d administered medications to counter the effects of the drugs Melody had ingested, she was drowsy but awake.

  Olivia and Jill pushed open Melody’s door and were closely followed by one of the guards. “This apartment is secure, ladies. Should you leave here, we will accompany you. Otherwise, we’ll be right outside.”

  “Thank you,” Olivia said before climbing in bed beside Melody, stroking her hair. “They all dress the same. Have you noticed? Maybe they shop together as we do.”

  Jill dropped to the other side of the bed and stared at her hands. “You scared me. I almost went to the mall instead of coming home. You could’ve died.”

  “I’m sorry I scared you,” Melody said.

  “You need a new therapist,” Jill said quickly.

  “We all need new therapists,” Melody said closing her eyes.

  “Why don’t I make some popcorn, and we can have a movie night right here?” Jill suggested.

  Olivia sighed deeply, giving her head a rub. “Great idea, but make it something without trauma or drama.”

  “Disney it is,” Jill said.

  *

  The warning lifted, as it always did, allowing them to go back to their everyday lives and schedules. Olivia returned the call from Jonathan Tate’s of
fice. She’d found the request for a meeting odd, considering they’d met only weeks earlier. But her determination for promptness had her perched in their regular booth at the coffee shop, waiting.

  While sipping her second double mocha latte, Olivia considered the tall man, well over six feet tall, dressed in a designer suit, rushing in from the opposite side of the shop. When his deep-set hazel eyes caught and held hers, she nearly choked on the coffee as it scorched the back of her throat. She watched him turn and head toward her with quick, confident strides.

  “Olivia Harding? My name is Bennett Thornton. I work with Jonathan Tate,” he said, extending his hand to shake hers while placing his card on the table.

  Her concern was clear and immediate. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Thornton. But where is Mr. Tate? Is he all right? He isn’t ill, is he?”

  “He has the flu. I’m sorry to have worried you,” he said, as he pushed into the booth across from her. “He arranged this meeting primarily to introduce me but called at the last minute, unable to leave his bed. Let me assure you; I’m Harvard educated and approved by both Jonathan Tate and your grandmother. I’ve also been well-versed in all matters concerning you and Harding Enterprises.”

  Olivia stared with amused wonder. “Is that a fact?”

  “It is,” he said, running his hand over his dark hair. “We have a few new matters to discuss, but first, I’d like to go over the minutes from your last meeting.”

  She nodded and then watched as he opened his files. While his impressive voice recounted previous business, her mind wondered. His perfectly cut suit made her feel underdressed in her jeans and tweed jacket. But he was easy to gawk at over the table. How she wished she could drop her guard and possibly trust him. Maybe she could. After all, he’d been approved by Mr. Tate and chosen by her grandmother.

  “Let’s move on,” he said. “Since you’ll be graduating at the end of the month, your grandmother has some concerns she wanted to be addressed.”

  Olivia leaned back, biting her lip. “Oh Lord, what is it? Just tell me. I don’t know you well enough to read your face. Is Grandma Catherine all right?”

  He held up a hand to quiet her, and then cleared his throat. “She’s well. But with her doctor’s growing concern with her heart condition, your grandmother thought it best that she and Nanny move into Harding Towers. This way, she can enjoy her freedom along with full-time medical attention.”

  “I’m aware of Harding Towers’ reputation as one of the most exclusive assisted living residences in the country and that it has a highly-respected hospital facility,” Olivia said, her voice breaking slightly as she stirred uneasily in the booth. “I just had no idea she was considering this. She never mentioned it. I’ve been so wrapped up with school, I guess.”

  “It was a rather quick decision. But, as you know, once Catherine sets her mind to something, it gets done. I spoke with her last week. She’d just started moving into the penthouse apartment. It sounded as if she was enjoying herself. She’s proud of you and knows how hard you’re working. Which brings me to this,” Ben said, sliding an aged document across the table. “In light of your pending graduation, your grandmother has gifted you with her house. She felt you were happy there.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened with emotion. “Casa Nonna? Grandmother Catherine has given me Casa Nonna?” she said in a voice as low as a whisper.

  “Yes, I believe that’s what she called it. She told me she’d made some minor changes in the last few weeks, bringing it more in line with your taste, and that she’d retained most of the staff.”

  Olivia stared wordlessly, her heart pounding, too stunned to respond.

  “Your grandmother does have one request, Olivia. After you graduate, although you’re entitled to whatever position that interests you at Harding Enterprises, there’s somewhere she feels you’d be better suited. The owner is an old friend of hers. They go way back.”

  As he placed the contact information in her palm, his hand brushed hers, sending a shiver down her spine. “I’ve learned to trust people that go way back with my grandmother. Thank you, Ben, or should I call you Bennett? Does anyone call you Bennett?”

  “My nana and my mom, but only if I’ve royally screwed up,” he answered with an easy grin.

  “Somehow, I don’t believe that happens very often.”

  “Remember, Olivia,” Ben said as he collected the documents scattered about the table. “I’m here in the same capacity as Jonathan Tate. If you have a question or need something, call. I’ve studied every aspect of Harding Enterprises and all of Tate’s files, inclusive of your meetings. I’m up to speed.”

  “If that’s true, where’s my lollipop?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Mr. Tate always gives me a lollipop at the end of our meetings. He didn’t mention that to you?” She held his gaze as she stood to leave.

  “He may have said something about a muffin, but nothing about a lollipop.”

  She’d tell him of the joke the next time they met. Looking back over her shoulder, his smoldering grin nearly stopped her in her tracks. Part of her wanted to run. She’d flirted—a first for her. She didn’t know where it came from and couldn’t have stopped it if she wanted to, not that she’d wanted to. Something so simple that it was taken for granted by most people. Olivia Parker Harding, without doubt, wasn’t most people.

  Chapter Twelve

  Olivia

  With the splendor and ceremony of graduation a memory, Olivia sighed, knowing the day she’d awaited, and dreaded, had arrived.

  “I can’t believe you’re leaving us,” Jill said as Olivia placed her last few belongings into a small suitcase. “How will I get through my new courses without you, Liv?”

  “I know change is hard for you, sweetie,” Olivia said, making one last sweep of the room.

  “That’s an understatement,” Melody chimed in from the door. “Jill still uses the same brand of deodorant she did since the ninth grade. I told her we’d come for a long visit as soon as our schedules allow.”

  “I’m counting on it.” Olivia paused to give Jill’s shoulder a rub.

  Olivia appreciated her grandmother, who had called to sympathize with the angst of the day and had insisted on helping by sending a car. What she had sent was a shiny black Ferrari wrapped in an oversized red bow. The giant card attached to the steering wheel read, ‘For your graduation to a new life. Drive it carefully. Love, Grandmother Catherine.’

  Olivia drove directly to Harding Towers, needing to see for herself that all was well. After arriving in record time, she parked in the visitor’s lot, impressed by the lush natural landscape sprawled as far as she could see. It warranted a second glance. From the elegantly designed main entrance, a young woman wearing a blue blazer escorted her to her grandmother’s penthouse apartment, occupying the top two floors of the building.

  A private elevator emptied to a spacious foyer where the butler, Marcus, whom Olivia later learned doubled as a registered nurse, led her to an airy living room. There, she found her grandmother and Nanny directing workers in the placement of furniture. With Olivia’s entrance, Catherine opened her arms to welcome her.

  “Olivia, come here and hug me. You look wonderful! What do you think of the new place?”

  “It’s beautiful, although I had no idea you were considering it. You never told me, Grandmother.”

  Catherine pushed a lock of Olivia’s hair behind her ear. “I felt you had enough on your mind, with graduation and all. And I didn’t want you to read too much into it.”

  Olivia nodded. “At least let me say thank you. The car that arrived this morning is amazing, although thank you doesn’t begin to cover Casa Nonna.”

  Catherine waved her hand in the air. “It’s not necessary. And I’ve always known Casa Nonna should be yours. You belong together.”

  Catherine and Nanny treated her to the grand tour of the penthouse, which was, in every sense of the word, grand before they lunched from a physician-approved menu
. All too soon, it was time to leave Harding Towers, but Olivia did so knowing that her grandmother and Nanny were happy and doing well. She carried under her arm a container of macadamia-nut cookies Nanny had given her, still warm from the oven, to enjoy on the ride home.

  *

  She barely noticed night had fallen when she drove through Casa Nonna’s familiar iron gates. Her key slipped inside the pewter lock, opening the heavy door as it did numerous times before. But this time, her grandmother wouldn’t be waiting on the other side.

  “Welcome home, Olivia. How was the drive?” Maria Garcia said, entering the foyer to welcome her. “You look surprised to see me. Didn’t your grandmother tell you we’d be here? She kept Christian and me on as caretakers. We live in the house out back. We’ve been busy preparing for your arrival.”

  “Forgive me, Maria, and thank you. I’m sure my grandmother told me, probably more than once. I’m just overwhelmed and overtired.”

  Maria clasped Olivia’s hand. “I’m anxious for you to see the changes she’s made. I can introduce you to the staff tomorrow.”

  Olivia merely stared, taken aback when they reached the living room. Refurbished in a French country theme, a caramel-colored sofa with floral tapestry pillows centered the room, while gold-gilded end tables and a tufted ottoman and matching wing chairs completed the suite. The elegant Steinway piano, a Harding family heirloom, occupied the corner.

  The theme continued in the formal dining room where a walnut table ran the full length of the room. Olivia sensed her grandmother’s hand everywhere she looked, and the result was stunning.

  Olivia followed Maria up the staircase, leading to the master bedroom. “I think this will be your favorite,” Maria said.

  A four-poster bed and antique French chairs, covered in floral fabrics, could be seen from the door. By the window, a loveseat waited, thick with pillows. Suspended in the midst of the tray ceiling, a petite crystal chandelier glittered brightly.