I Love You to Pieces

by Lori Flynn

  Narrated in her smooth voice, the story depicted the horror of abandonment in the night drop off. "In the early hours of the morning, our team discovers them—dogs, cats, our discarded pets, for whatever reason, we no longer want or need, beaten, broken, cowering and fearful in the corners of the cement cages. We examine, monitor, and groom them. It can be pretty scary for most. All our guests are treated the same, with love and respect.

  “We work toward a forever home, a place just right for them,” Olivia said, as the film showed a selection of successes sporting bandanas reading, ‘I’m going home today.’ Her crowd stood and applauded, while tears and donations ran like pit bulls toward raw meat.

  Gretchen waited at the end of the line of well-wishers and held Olivia in a quick embrace. “You’ve amazed me. Thank you. Go home and take some time off. I can handle it from here. That’s an order.” She winked and then turned into the crowd.

  Grateful for the praise, she grabbed her purse and headed out. Sliding behind the wheel, bone weary and listless, she knew she couldn’t blame insomnia this time. Forced to take copious amounts of medications to keep her migraines in check, she would fall asleep the moment her eyes closed and had slept through her alarm clock twice that week. Once awake, however, her exhaustion would remain, having her depend on caffeine throughout the day like an addict.

  Equally as disturbing, she found it unsettling that on those same mornings, on the worst days during the drive to work, the radio station was rarely where she’d left it. She treasured her car. Was someone making use of it without her knowledge, or did the Ferrari have affection for heavy metal bands? She had promised herself to bring the problem to the Garcias’ attention or possibly resort to reading the car’s manual when her life slowed.

  Pressing the lock twice, she engaged the car’s alarm. Her mind replayed scenes from the day as she moved up the stairs to her room, preparing for bed by rote. Sleep drew her fast.

  *

  It seemed like minutes before the new day shadowed the room, causing Olivia to push from her bed. After brushing her teeth, and hair, she dressed in soft and easy pink French terry pants and a zip sweatshirt, before heading to the kitchen.

  “Thought I heard you moving around up there,” Maria said. “I made you some coffee and was hoping to hear about the fundraiser.”

  “Thank you,” Olivia said, accepting the warm mug. She’d expected to be alone, needed to be, yet realized the concern in Maria’s eyes was genuine and offered a smile. “It was successful. I’m still processing it all. A walk should help.”

  She kept the mug and padded for the water. Nanny had always told her she was a true Floridian since she did her best thinking when her feet were buried in wet sand. The thought made her grin.

  The overcast, dark and drab February day sent a breeze from the water, pitching her long hair about her face. She trudged along, the weight of her thoughts slowing her stride. For too long, she’d allowed herself to credit her medications for the list of mysteries occurring in her life. Olivia knew the assumption was wrong. She knew something was wrong with her.

  She’d hoped to keep her staff from getting suspicious, including the Garcias, by dismissing them at night. Somehow it calmed her to have Maria and Christian locked away in the Carriage House and not underfoot, witnessing the secret, her secret.

  Given her lifelong disdain for doctors, the thought of trusting one terrified her. And no matter how small her role at Harding Enterprises, as sole heiress, a kink in her armor would crash their stock and hurt innocent people. No doubt she would require more than an antibiotic. Her revelations could ruin all her father had worked for and had given her to protect.

  “What do I do now?” Olivia yelled into the surging water. Acknowledging a problem of this magnitude and admitting it to anyone felt close to paralyzing. Who should she confide in? Her grandmother loved her dearly, but Olivia would never put her heart at risk. Gretchen would surely understand before her loyalty brought her back to Catherine. She thought of Ben, briefly, but her trust in him didn’t run deep enough—not just yet. Jill and Melody accepted her unconditionally and had known her since grade-school. Having hidden her shame for so long, she’d need time and strength before letting go of her secrets. Sighing deeply, with her feet buried deep in the sand, she felt like her head was in there too.

  She pulled the hair from her face, turning back towards home. When close enough to view the outline of Casa Nonna on the horizon, she spotted a figure approaching along the water’s edge. Male, shoeless, the sleeves of his dress shirt and the cuffs of his pants rolled. When the confident gait became familiar, she smiled.

  With the rising sun at his back, he hovered close. “There are documents in need of your signature. I went by your office. They were all raving about the success of your luncheon, so I took it upon myself to come and congratulate you in person,” Ben rambled. “That sounded better when I practiced it on the drive over. I even brought your favorite ice cream—moose tracks, right?”

  She breathed in his scent, all male, while regarding him with a somber curiosity. “My favorite ice cream flavor is in my file? You must have gotten that tidbit from Jonathan Tate. Either way, I thank you. You aren’t exactly dressed for it, but would you like to walk?”

  “Sure. It’s beautiful out here. You’re a lucky girl. Funny, I hadn’t noticed the sprinkling of freckles crossing your nose before.”

  She flushed.

  They walked with their feet bathed in the cool waters of the Atlantic. Even though Ben used his words for a living, Olivia found he was struggling to string enough together to form a sentence, but as he relaxed, their conversation soon took on an easy cadence. Before long, she, too, was rambling on about the luncheon and how much she loved working for Gretchen.

  “What about that ice cream you promised me?” Olivia asked.

  “The very serious looking woman who answered the door took it from me. She said something about you needing solid food first, and that I could find you on the beach. Is there a chance I can entice you to have lunch with me?”

  “I would love to if you can be patient while I change.”

  “Don’t change for me. I like you just the way you are.” His brandy-smooth voice crooned in her ear as he linked his arm through hers.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “Has that lame line ever worked on another woman, Ben?”

  “Surprisingly, it has.”

  She was mindful of the tremor in her hands as she dressed. A cursory tour of Casa Nonna culminated in the cavernous two-story garage, where she tossed him the keys to the Ferrari.

  “You’re going to let me drive her?” Ben said, holding his hand over his heart.

  “Well, since I’m still not sure which one of us you’re here to see, I thought I’d give her equal time.”

  Olivia beamed hearing the engine purr to life. Her smile faded to a grimace when the strains of heavy metal rang out from the radio. The gas light, glowing from the dashboard, tightened her chest, making it hard to swallow around the lump that had formed in her throat, since she remembered filling the tank the day before.

  Ben located the nearest station and gassed up the tank. She thought he would’ve happily driven to the moon if required. He seemed exhilarated, sporting a joyful grin, charming her out of the funk she’d fallen into.

  “I noticed a sandwich shop not far from here. Have you been there?” Ben asked.

  “You must mean Vinnie’s. Love that place—great pickles.”

  They agreed on the corner table. Ben ordered a roast beef sandwich while Olivia stayed with her usual chicken salad. He remembered to get the pickles. He talked about his day in court and made her laugh.

  Twilight concealed Casa Nonna in its shadows as they returned, rendering an eerie silence. In the dimly-lit foyer, as Ben placed the keys in her palm, a slight tremble shook her hand. When he swept her into his arms, kissing the tip of her freckled nose, before claiming her lips, a need hotter than a summer wind moved through her. Breathless, she pulled
away.

  He let out a long sigh. “In all honesty, I didn’t think that through, knowing the extent of your trust issues. But patience has never been my strong suit, other than in baseball or chess.”

  She braced herself against the window, her eyes on his back as he turned and walked away. Her lips still tasted of his kiss.

  The speed of his exit increased the potency of his words. Yes, she had trust issues, reiterated by her grandmother, and then Jonathan Tate and her best friends, Jill and Melody. The warning was clear. You’re an heiress; people will take advantage of you. But this was more. What she feared ran deeper. She couldn’t have Ben learn her secrets. He’d run for his life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Olivia

  Olivia headed to her office, hours before daylight, primed for work. While she enjoyed the peaceful roadways, she blamed the return of her insomnia for her early start. Parked in the lot, she pulled her oversized bag, files, and travel mug from the passenger seat before progressing toward the building. She squinted through the murky darkness, searching her ring for the key Gretchen had given her. With it, she could come and go without disrupting the skeleton crew, responsible for the infirmed and healing.

  Mulling over her day, Olivia pressed on, pausing at the hint of a whimper, low and sorrowful. The sound repeated. Breathing hard, she rummaged through her bag in search of a flashlight. With trembling hands, Olivia aimed it toward the first-night drop-off cage. Gasping, she dropped to her knees.

  Cowering in the rear of the concrete structure, anxious brown eyes surrounded by a small mound of matted fur returned her stare. It was a young tricolored beagle, with an open wound over its left eye. When she moved closer, crouching, she noticed one of its paws bent peculiarly. Olivia pushed away thoughts of what it may have lived through. The terror clouding its eyes drew her. She knew Gretchen’s steadfast no-exceptions rule concerning the removal of animals from night drop-off cages. But walking away wasn’t an option.

  “I’m coming in to keep you company,” Olivia said. Her hands shook as she guardedly opened the cage door. She crawled while her heart threatened to burst from her chest, placing her back to the wall, closing the door with her foot. The small animal leaned its listless head against her thigh. Without knowing the extent of its injuries, Olivia stroked its long soft ears. The cage felt oppressively small, airless. Her breath came in pants. Sweat rolled her back, and more than once, flashbacks made her shudder. She cried for them both while awaiting rescue.

  Olivia breathed a deep sigh with the arrival of the transition team. She’d expected their shock and confusion finding her wedged in the cage. After all, she sure looked like a disheveled mess of tears, dog hair, and blood. And she wasn’t quite willing to give up the dog.

  With Gretchen expected within the hour, the team dispatched the house veterinarian. Dr. Hunter was an original hippy, a charter member of PETA with a genuine love of Hawaiian shirts and all of God’s creatures. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Olivia.

  “I’m glad you didn’t remove the dog from that cage before I had a chance to see it. It looks injured and in pain. There could be internal bleeding. Let me take it from you, Olivia. I promise to make it my priority.” Dr. Hunter lowered his six-and-a-half-foot frame to a crouch, reaching for the animal. “There doesn’t seem to be a collar or tags.”

  “She’s a girl. I’ve been holding a cut over her left eye closed to help stop the bleeding. I also think her leg is broken,” Olivia said in one quick breath while crawling from the cage. She rubbed her hands down her legs, more to settle her nerves than to remove dog hair.

  The team moved in tandem, with Olivia in stride, ending in Dr. Hunter’s examination room. When she covered her mouth hiding her wince, the doctor advised she wait elsewhere. He found her hovering by the door following the exam.

  Despite the concern in her eyes, his manner was curt. “I see you’ve become attached to that little dog. But I’ve seen her X-rays. She’ll have to visit my OR two or three times to repair her leg correctly. Unfortunately, for this place, the cost is just too high. Chances are she’d never reach adoption status.”

  “So, this is about money and the probability of adoption?”

  “Sadly, yes. We’re forced to make some difficult financial choices. It happens more often than I care to mention.”

  Olivia held up her palm to put an end to his pitiful explanation. “I’ll accept full financial responsibility for her care, including the surgeries you mentioned.”

  He threw back his head. “I was so hoping you’d say that. I’ll go prep her for surgery.”

  “Dr. Hunter, I’ve decided to adopt her.”

  Slowing his progress, the doctor narrowed his eyes. “You do understand she’ll require extensive medical care and testing before she’s cleared to leave here?”

  “Give her what she needs. And call her Lily.”

  Olivia remained in the modest area near the OR, awaiting Lily’s emergence from surgery. When, finally, she was wheeled to recovery, still under the effects of anesthesia, Dr. Hunter allowed her a quick view. He explained that he’d placed the surgically-repaired leg in a walking cast. They’d chosen pink, which triggered a memory inciting Olivia to shudder. The wound over Lily’s eye had been sutured. X-rays not only exhibited a concussion but showed a history of more. In all certainty, she’d yet to reach her first birthday.

  With her puppy asleep in recovery, Olivia made her way to her office for the first time that day. As she settled in her chair, a note in Gretchen’s familiar jagged writing caught her eye from the top of her desk. “See me,” she read, swallowing around the hard lump in her throat. With little choice, she pushed back out of her chair and death-walked down the corridor, hesitating before tapping her employer’s door.

  Gretchen’s diminished size behind the mammoth mahogany desk could’ve been considered comical, given her chair didn’t allow her feet contact with the floor. Her expression, however, cleared up any misconception of her mood nearing jovial.

  “I knew it was just a matter of time before one of them got to you. I didn’t know it would be this dramatic. I’ll have you know that, thanks to you, I’ve spent my morning amending my employee rulebooks. They now say, ‘do not ever remove or climb in after’ an animal that has been placed in the night drop-off.”

  Olivia winced. “I’m sorry, Gretchen. It was hours before anyone would get here, and I knew I was forbidden to take her out of the cage. I had to do something.”

  “I keep telling myself you only did it because you knew you could outwrestle a nine-pound beagle? If it had been a pit bull, you would’ve followed procedure. I’m not looking for an answer; I’ll assume I’m correct.” Gretchen rubbed her forehead with both hands. “I also remember your avoidance of small places. This little girl grabbed your heart.”

  Olivia nodded and told Gretchen of the injuries she’d incurred as well as Dr. Hunter’s sad prognosis.

  “Unfortunately, we’re met with those decisions every day. Not all of them are financial, but honestly, most are. And every time, we almost lose Hunter. He can’t deal with it. It’s the part of this business I could certainly live without.”

  Olivia rose and wet her lips, moving closer to the desk with purpose. “I’m sure you’re aware my father left me a fortune. If you let me, I could put an end to those decisions. We could set up an endowment or a trust through Harding Enterprises. The attorneys can sort it out, so it won’t be contingent with my employment here.”

  “After your behavior this morning, are you sure you don’t want it to secure your employment?” Tears spilled from Gretchen’s eyes, filling the creases of her face. “Thank you, Olivia. That’s quite generous. There’s a part of me that’s inclined to warn you to wait a few days and think it over, in case you have some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder.”

  “I won’t change my mind, and I’m sure my father would approve if he could.”

  “I was right about you,” Gretchen said, wiping her cheeks with the
backs of her hands. “To warn you, stay clear of Hunter. When he catches wind of this, his bear hugs have been known to break ribs. I guess you can have your people call our people, although your people are our people.” At the door, Gretchen gave her a bear hug of her own.

  Olivia rushed through the building, anxious about Lily and her progress, slowing only to call Ben. Her thought was to leave him a message, setting in motion all she and Gretchen had discussed. A flutter circled her belly when he answered after the first ring.

  “Ben Thornton.”

  “I need you, Ben,” she said, a bit startled.

  “I could begin and end each day with those four words, Olivia.”

  A smile touched the corners of her mouth as she disclosed the significant details.

  “That’s a charitable proposal, Olivia. I’ll start working on it and give you a call in three or four days. Maybe we can finalize it over dinner.”

  His kindness warmed her. “Thank you, Ben. What do you think of a working dinner at Casa Nonna? I’m not the best cook, but I make a mean fettuccini. Are you up for it?”

  “Of course, I’d love that. I’ll call you as soon as I have something.”

  *

  Given a few days and a little coaxing, Dr. Hunter granted that Lily could begin spending her evenings with Olivia, provided she returned each morning for therapy. Christian and Maria helped prepare Casa Nonna, removing collectibles from reach and placing gates to block staircases. For the ride home, Olivia secured Lily into her newly purchased pet seat.

  The sun had set when Olivia pulled through Casa Nonna’s lengthy driveway. Christian and Maria waited in the doorway. “This is your home, Lily,” Olivia said, as the puppy squirmed when freed from the car while sniffing at the air and tucking her soft head under Olivia’s chin.