by Lori Flynn
She drew in a deep breath and ventured deeper into the room. In a well-lit corner hung the antique white bird cage, once the home of Zander and Miley. Olivia smiled when she saw her black ceramic cat with the crystal eyes safely secured to the center. When she noticed the hot pink cast, mounted in a glass case in a place of honor on the desk, tears welled in her eyes. The words, ‘I LOVE YOU TO PIECES,’ appeared as clear as they had on the day they were first written.
Olivia had never listed the endless reasons for the gratitude she held for her grandmother. If she did, preserving the precious tokens from her father would join the growing list. The rooms of Casa Nonna brought him closer somehow. Even more in their home office, a room her grandmother had chosen not to change. If Olivia closed her eyes, she’d see him, full of life, beckoning her into his arms.
She wandered through the kitchen out to the veranda, drawn by the sound of the water as it pounded the shore. Moved by moonlight and memory, Olivia was soothed by the wet sand between her toes. With graduation behind her, her future stood ready to begin. But she was alone, with no one to hide behind, and the threat of her secrets loomed largely.
Chapter Thirteen
Olivia
Olivia paced the small but welcoming room at Paws for Love Animal Refuge while waiting to meet the owner, Gretchen VonBuron. She closed her eyes, taking a calming breath. Since her grandmother had already paved the way, due to their longtime friendship, all that remained before she was awarded the job was an interview. Still, the thought made her to restless to sit.
“Send Olivia in, please,” Gretchen’s grainy voice sounded over the intercom.
“She’s right through there, Olivia,” the receptionist said.
“Thank you,” Olivia returned before pushing open the heavy wood door. Behind the desk sat a senior woman, whose diminished size made the desk appear larger than it was. What was more, Olivia noticed, the woman’s feet fell short of touching the floor.
“Welcome, Olivia. I’m Gretchen VonBuron. Your grandmother and I spent the nicest afternoon a few months back. She showed me your perfect résumé and glowing letters of recommendation.”
Olivia smiled, settling in the chair across from the desk. “Grandma Catherine has always been my biggest supporter.”
“Let me tell you what I’m looking for. This place is my baby. I’ve put my heart, soul, and every available dollar in it for as long as I can remember. My age and waning energy level keeps me on a continual search of young, energetic people to help pick up the slack. But they have to be the right fit. Funds are normally one of the largest obstacles of most non-profits. Someone with an MBA, such as you, capable of extracting money from high-society, would be a God-send.”
Olivia watched as Gretchen ran her onion-skinned hand, thick with blue veins, through her thinning cropped hair, as though she was lost in thought.
“There’s a look that corners the eyes in the abused and damaged strays when they first arrive. It speaks volumes. At Paws for Love, I’ve made it my mission to see that every guest crossing the threshold is treated in the same manner. Given respect, unconditional love, and a sense of purpose, they then have the opportunity to find a permanent home. The process helps them to heal,” Gretchen said.
Olivia’s pale face flushed like a fever. “I’m beginning to feel that both you and my grandmother are hoping it will work for me.”
Gretchen burst into a wide grin. “I’m tickled to have you. There are a few formalities to take care of, paperwork to fill out.” She handed Olivia a packet while searching through the mound on her desk. “Found it—if you could make it to the address on that card today, I’d appreciate it. Our insurance insists our employees are bonded. The attorneys will run you through it. I’m sorry, am I moving too fast for you? My staff says I scare people. They blame it on my age, but honestly, I’ve been like this all my life.”
“You don’t scare me at all, Mrs. VonBuron. I’m a quick study. To tell you the truth, you remind me very much of my grandmother.”
With a wide smile creasing her tiny face, she squeezed Olivia’s hand. “I’ll take that as the compliment it was intended to be. If you follow me, I’ll give you the tour. One more thing: call me Gretchen.”
Gretchen led her through a wing of offices, one of which was assigned to her. It was a workable room with two large filing cabinets lining one wall, an old desk with a computer in front of a sizable window, and a walk-in closet with a tight-fitting door that made her shudder.
“Feel free to redecorate, within reason,” Gretchen said.
The counter in the main part of the building seemed alive with activity and ringing phones. There were various breeds of dogs, barking and whining. Olivia bent to pet the head of a black, bushy-tailed puppy climbing her leg. Adjacent to the desk, a twenty-four-hour medical facility bustled at full capacity.
“The noise level in here is deafening at times,” Gretchen shouted. “You learn to tune it out after a while.”
Gretchen led the way outdoors to the spacious grounds reserved for the guests’ daily walks. For those who’d been cleared, a landscaped, fenced dog park, allowing them to run without the restraints of a leash, opened before them. The front of the facility held several cages encased in cement. They were employed as night drop-offs, utilized by the public when surrendering animals.
Olivia cringed and looked away. The thought of abandonment in such a place chilled her, having her flashback to the small room in the attic.
Gretchen stroked Olivia’s shoulder. “As much as we all want to race out here each morning to set them free, we can’t. It’s a process. Our transition team arrives at the crack of dawn to ensure the animals don’t spend any more time in there than necessary. Sadly, Olivia, as a result of what they’ve lived through, these animals frequently interpret our love as aggression. I won’t have any of my employees harmed, or worse, the authorities told me I have to put an animal down due to our carelessness.”
Olivia could only nod. “How do you make sure that all your guests are walked every day?”
“There’s a schedule on the board, and we all make it a priority to pitch in. The high school kids come by to get their community service hours but disappear during exams and school breaks. Our senior communities help out, but with them, size matters. We can’t hand over the leashes of our bigger dogs if we want to avoid broken hip claims. My staff, regardless of their position, all end up carrying tennis shoes to change into. I warn you; our guests will get under your skin and into your heart fairly quick.”
“Thank you.”
“What for, Olivia?” Gretchen asked, taken aback seeing tears welling in her eyes. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m happy to be part of it—to protect them.”
Chapter Fourteen
Olivia
“Tate, Shapiro, and Thornton,” Olivia read from the business card Gretchen had given her. She grinned as she pitched it into her bag, thinking Gretchen had more in common than friendship with her grandmother. Cruising down the turnpike en route to the law office, as promised, her family’s longtime dealings with Jonathan Tate left the card’s information unnecessary.
A receptionist welcomed her into the impressive lobby. The gum-chewing blonde assured her that Mr. Thornton would be right down to assist her. Olivia smiled as the elevator door opened, revealing Ben. Giorgio Armani should pay him, she thought, just for wearing his suits.
“Olivia, you’re here. When Gretchen said you’d be coming in today, I volunteered my services.” Striding to her side, he put his hand on her shoulder to guide her. “I set up a room with the forms you’ll need. Right this way.”
The warmth of personal contact had her follow his lead. She sensed confidence, a magnetism that stole her breath. Each time she saw him, the pull seemed stronger.
“Considering you’ve never been bonded, start by completing this form. The bonding company will conduct a complete background check by interviewing previous employers and obtaining personal character refe
rences. They also require a set of your fingerprints. We go to great lengths to protect your privacy and to ensure your information won’t be a headline you’ll see in some tabloid while in line at the grocery store. Do you have any questions so far?”
“Just one—how did you know that I’ve never been bonded?” she asked, avoiding his eyes.
A muscle near the corner of his jaw worked. “You can trust me, Olivia. I found that there’s never been a record of your fingerprints on the national or state register, so I assumed. Is that correct?”
“Correct and thorough,” she said, focusing on the form. It was a simple matter if only Ben hadn’t casually thought to discard his jacket. His broad shoulders pulling the tailored shirt tight across his back interfered with her concentration. Suddenly warm inside, she dragged her gaze away.
“If you had done your homework, you could’ve filled this out for me,” she said.
“Then I couldn’t watch you struggle with it.”
When she’d finished the last question, he led the way down the corridor. Olivia took note of the receptionist texting as fast as her fingers would allow. She could only assume that Bennett Thornton displaying interest in a client was newsworthy. In the brief time it required to process her fingerprints, thereby completing her bonding experience, Olivia felt the building was buzzing with gossip.
Insisting on escorting her to the parking lot, Ben’s long, even stride all at once faltered. Olivia’s eyes followed his stare to her shiny new car as if captivated by what he saw. She watched Ben stumble toward the sleek black machine. She knew it was childish to press the remote just as he reached to touch it, but the expression on his face was unforgettable.
“This is your car?” He shuffled back a step. “Tell me you’re joking? This is the latest Ferrari; they’re not even out yet. How do you even have one? What do you think of the direct injection V-8 with the dual-clutch transmission? Can it do 0 to 62 in less than 3.4 seconds?”
“I don’t know about all that.” She laughed at Ben’s reaction. “I do know it’s fast, and pretty, and was an extravagant graduation gift from my grandmother.” As Ben mimed that he was dying of a broken heart, Olivia feigned pity while sliding behind the wheel.
“Well, take care of each other. After your life settles down some, if I should call and ask you out, might you say yes?” Ben braced himself in the open car window. The metal framed his perfectly-chiseled face while his warm breath rustled her hair.
“That all depends on which one of us you’re talking to, Ben, me or the car?” Olivia found the courage to return his stare.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see whether I bring flowers or synthetic motor oil. Oh, I almost forgot,” Ben said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a lollipop, handing it to Olivia. “Now you may go, Miss Harding.”
Her grey eyes widened with surprise while her heart lurched in her chest. “Thank you, Mr. Thornton.” It was Olivia’s turn to stare back at Ben in her rearview mirror as she drove from the lot. The need for distance between them had her mind spinning. She wondered what he’d discover should he decide to pursue her. And more, worried it would send him running for shelter.
Chapter Fifteen
Olivia
From behind her desk, Olivia mulled over the final preparations for her first fundraiser. A luncheon she’d nicknamed the Love Luncheon held the promise of success if the current guest list was any indication. Pushing back her chair, she considered all she’d accomplished in her first month at Paws for Love. Concentration took her so deeply that the visitor propped against the door frame went unnoticed, causing her to clutch her chest.
“Gretchen, you startled me.”
“Sorry about that. The staff here has threatened to hang a bell around my neck for years. I haven’t been back in this office since I turned it over to you. I must say, you Harding’s have style,” she commented, scanning the room. “You’ve accomplished a clever balance of sophistication with comfort. I see you’ve replaced my old office desk with a Louis XVI antique. And the Queen Anne chairs complement the settee you centered under the window.”
Olivia grimaced, biting her bottom lip. “I admit I may have gotten carried away. In my defense, mostly everything was recycled from my attic. The Tiffany lamp was a gift from my grandmother.”
“I notice the closet door’s missing. Is that some new-age decorating method?” Gretchen moved further into the room.
“Would you like the truth or the story I’ve concocted?” Pressure from the older woman’s eyes forced an answer. “I have a problem with small rooms: going in them, being in them, possibly getting locked in them.”
Gretchen offered a tight smile. “I get it. Remove the door, remove the threat. I said anything within reason. I believe this is within those parameters.” She settled into one of Olivia’s chairs, adjusting the throw pillow to the middle of her back. “Update me on the Love Luncheon. I understand a Trump is attending.”
Olivia exhaled and then grinned. “A Trump or a Trump representative, either way, they’ll make an appearance—with a checkbook. I appreciate that my grandmother made a phone call.” She handed Gretchen a copy of the guest list plucked from the top of her desk. “And through her connections, Mar-A-Lago’s famous key lime tartlets will be on the menu. They’re scrumptious.”
Gretchen smiled. “I’m impressed with the lineup of prominent people that have committed to attend, and your menu is amazing. You have skills, Olivia.”
Although pleased by her employer’s accolades, Olivia was mindful that she’d yet to earn them. Having inherited two file cabinets chock-full of useful information about prior fundraising events combined with priceless contacts gifted to her by her grandmother, the event had nearly planned itself. The true test would be implementing her plan and making it a success.
“I can hardly wait to be there myself,” Gretchen said. “You’ve been rubbing your temples. Are those headaches still bothering you? Just how many hours have you been putting in? Overwork and eye strain with that computer won’t help, you know.”
Olivia smiled, touched by the older woman’s concern. Having lived with her headaches for most of her life, she took them in stride. “Honestly, if I installed a shower in here, I’d most likely stay around the clock. As soon as the luncheon’s over, I promise to cut back. I believe my doctor has prescribed every medication available for migraines. He even has me on birth control pills to even out my hormones, not that I would need them for anything else.” A flush crept across her cheeks.
“Don’t be so sure. The ever-so-charming Bennett Thornton was nosing around here this morning, looking for you. When I told him you’d stepped out, he asked me to relay a message. He said there hadn’t been any snags with the bonding. I asked whether there were problems with the phones. His cheeks turned as red as yours are now, and he hightailed it out of here.” Gretchen laughed.
*
It wasn’t until the next afternoon when the rain responsible for holding man and beast indoors at last subsided. The luncheon was fast approaching, but Olivia felt prepared. Indulging the need for a change of scenery, she traded her heels for tennis shoes and headed for the front desk to take a look at the board she’d heard so much about. Turning the corner, she discovered the room alive with activity. Behind the desk, a young girl popped M&M’s from a family-sized bag, while she secured her dark hair at her crown.
“You look like you could use a hand. Can I help?”
“You’re Olivia, right? I’m Willow,” she said. “When it storms all day like this, no one comes in to help. On top of that, we had three dogs left in the night drop off in need of attention. Chances are these M&M’s are my dinner. It would be great if you could chip in. Leashes are outside the cages, and pick-up bags and gloves are right over there.” She pointed and then quickly turned to answer a phone.
Olivia approached a considerably-sized cage with a handwritten name tag attached that read, ‘Prince.’ Clipping the thick leather leash to the dog’s collar, she
crowded a handful of pick-up bags deep inside the pockets of her rain jacket before leading the hulking dog through the back door of the facility. Prince, a Rottweiler, an exceptionally large, black and tan, seething animal, stopped deep in his tracks to stare at her the moment the door closed behind them. Olivia sympathized with his message, having seen the same in her mirror. They continued to walk, heads lowered toward the dark, wet pavement.
Inside, as the staff stood gathered by the windows, peering out into the overcast yard, Gretchen arrived at the front desk. “Is someone going to tell me what’s so interesting out there, or should I pull up a chair and see for myself?”
“It’s Olivia and Prince,” Willow said. “She asked if she could help, walk some of the dogs. She thought it looked like we could use a hand. It’s my fault, the phone rang, and I didn’t think to warn her about him.”
Gretchen swallowed hard. “Someone get me a chair.”
They were all mindful of Prince, coming to them severely damaged and in need of extensive therapy, so much so he’d never achieve adoption. Trained personnel walked him employing a muzzle. They watched as Olivia and Prince made their way back, side by side, heads down, respectful of each other’s space, all while Olivia spoke to him.
Prince allowed her to remove his leash without incident before returning to his cage. When Olivia moved on to the next, pushing through the back door leading a Jack Russell Terrier, Gretchen turned to her staff.
“I’m sure there’s work to be done today. Need I remind all of you of my zero-tolerance policy on gossip? It always gets back to me.”
The incident remained a secret with the staff. Some, who held new respect for Olivia, lent a hand for the Love Luncheon. She dressed in an ivory Ralph Lauren pantsuit, embellished by a chain belt glittering with hearts and encrusted in red crystals. The caterer, recommended by her grandmother, didn’t disappoint while the tarts would forever stay in their memories. The short film Olivia had prepared had her audience sit up and take notice.