by Lori Flynn
“I’ll be right behind you,” Olivia said. “I’m just straightening up.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Don’t think I won’t. Other than the medical staff, everyone has already left for the night.” With one last lingering look, Gretchen pressed her paper-thin lips and was gone.
Olivia put her desk in order, turned off the light and reached the door, all without noticing the man leaning against the door frame, studying her. Buried deep in her thoughts, she gasped when her face struck the hardness of his chest. Her reaction came quick and harsh, flowing from deep inside. Was she drawing from what she remembered of the self-defense classes she’d taken with Jill and Melody? She hadn’t a clue.
“Olivia, it’s me, Ben. I didn’t think my practical joke with Edgar made you mad enough to beat me up.” Taking hold of her shoulders, he kept her at arm’s length.
Stepping from his grasp, she evened her breathing, watching him wipe the shock from his face. “You scared the crap out of me! Gretchen told me I was alone on this side of the building. Jesus, Ben, I think I have a concussion. Did I hurt you?”
He shot her a twisted smile. “You’re serious? You think you hurt me? I’m fine, Olivia. I’ll grant you it’s dark back here, but have you no sense of smell? I’ve had a healthy dousing of the essence of Edgar today and planned to burn these clothes as soon as I leave here.”
Her face softened. “I’m sorry, Ben. I feel responsible for the condition you’re in. Let me try and make it up to you. Go home, take a shower, and if you still have energy and find yourself driving around in my neighborhood, stop in. Bring your clothes. We’ll build a bonfire on the beach and burn them.”
Ben smirked until the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Why else would I be in your neighborhood, Olivia, other than to see you? You don’t have any other neighbors.”
Together, they picked up Lily and continued to the parking lot.
“Well, think about it, Ben.”
“I had plans with Edgar to pick up some bitches, but I could ditch him for you.”
His face, framed in her car window, made her flush. “If you’re sure, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of guys’ night.”
After a long pause, Ben rose to his feet. “Buckle up, Olivia.”
With Lily curled in the seat beside her, Olivia headed home.
*
Moonlight cloaked Casa Nonna in radiance, projecting a warm, welcoming feeling as she approached. Maria had retired to the caretaker’s house but had left a tray of cookie dough, in rows of symmetrical dollops, resting on the countertop ready for the oven. After depositing the sleeping Lily on her bed, she showered before slipping into yoga pants and her softest terry top. The doorbell sounded as she pulled a brush through her hair.
When she opened the door, she warmed as Ben straightened his shoulders and smiled. Dark stubble shaded his scrubbed face, and his all-male scent had her fighting the urge to nuzzle his neck. The wine bottle he had tucked under his arm broke the spell, sending her heart pounding against her ribs.
She thought she’d cleared her mind of the doctor’s office debacle during the final stages of the walk-a-thon. But now, with one look at Ben’s offering, it was back. She winced when his mouth grew tight and grim.
“I’m sensing second thoughts. Should I go?”
“No, please, come in.” Olivia moved aside, allowing him entrance to the foyer. When his back remained ramrod straight, she stretched to her toes and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly. “That was rude of me. It has nothing to do with you. It’s the wine. If you come with me, I’ll explain.” She took his hand, leading him to the kitchen where she opened the bottle, leaving it to breathe, all while mentally editing her story.
“The wine’s not important, Olivia, it’s just a gesture. Do I smell cookies? Let’s drink milk instead.”
Turning, she saw Ben leaning over her counter, his head cradled in his palm, watching as she flittered her way through the kitchen. Certainly, Jill and Melody would insist she take full advantage of the wine and the man. If I choose that route, at the very least, I won’t have to worry about protection.
“Oatmeal raisin, and they’re still warm, but I can’t take the credit. Maria made them. And I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I’m more exhausted than I thought. The wine brought me back to this bizarre doctor’s visit I just had. This man, who knew me for all of ten minutes, hinted I had a drinking problem over one less than perfect lab result. And I rarely drink. It sounds a bit silly when I repeat it to you.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not silly if it affected you. I’d like you to feel you can come to me when something’s wrong. I can’t slay the dragons from your past, but I’m here to help you with the ones that are after you now. You just have to let me in. How about I send Rocco and One-arm over to this guy’s office and teach him a lesson?” he said with his highest quality mobster impression, making her giggle.
“Some doctors should only work in labs and never see patients. You can’t let jerks like him get to you. If you’d like to do something about it, we could report him to the American Medical Association. It wouldn’t go very far, but we could cause him some grief.”
She thought of calling attention to herself and her problems, and a shiver shot straight up her spine. “No, I don’t think so. I already feel better talking to you. It’s just another one of your many talents, Counselor. You were a big hit today. How about we change this milk to wine and take that walk down the beach?”
After a slight hesitation, a grin tugged the corner of his mouth. “You aren’t going to freak out and try to hit me while we’re out there, are you?”
Olivia winced but poured the wine, placing a glass in his outstretched hand, lifting the other. “You’ll have to be brave and find out.”
Guided by the moon and stars with the salted wind whipping their clothes, they entwined their hands and walked barefoot down the shoreline. With little bravado, Ben downed his wine then hers, disregarding their glasses in the sand before gathering her in his arms and holding her close. He swallowed a groan when the curves of her body molded to the lean contours of his. Dropping his head, he kissed her in the pulsing hollow at the base of her throat before his mouth hungrily covered hers.
His touch, firm and persuasive, made her shiver, curling her toes in the still warm sand. Any plan she once had to keep him at arm’s length, now forgotten. Resistance was futile—he had her—until the steady chorus of ‘God Save the Queen’ rang loud and clear from his pants’ pocket, pressed tight against her groin.
Cursing under his breath, he pulled away, dragging his phone to his ear. “Good evening, Catherine, how can I be of assistance? Of course, I understand. I’ll be there soon.”
Having regained most of her senses, Olivia faced him, hands in the air. “I realize my grandmother is your most prestigious client, but the national anthem of England, Ben? Is she all right?”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, before capturing her eyes. “Relax, she’s just fine, maybe a little psychic. I’ve known Catherine for most of my life and have the utmost respect for her. It’s not like I used the Sex Pistol’s version. Shit, talk about bad timing.”
With that, Olivia’s tight expression relaxed to a smile. “You better go, Ben. Your queen waits.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Olivia
“I need a favor.” Melody’s steely voice echoed through the phone.
“Anything, you know that.” Olivia stiffened, pushing her back against the desk chair. “Are you all right?”
“I will be. I hate to disrupt your Monday like this, but that internship I told you about opened up, and I’m required to graduate immediately.”
“Congratulations! Immediately meaning when, exactly?”
“Today, tonight actually; there’s about thirty of us. Can you get away?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Besides, Gretchen suggested I take some time off.”
Loose ends took little effort to settle, the blessing of her emplo
yer even less before Olivia strode the parking lot and headed for home. She rushed to her room to pack and then hesitated before broaching her closet. Deep breaths and a slow roll of her shoulders helped soothe her anxiety. She tried not to think of all the mystery garments that had reared their ugly seams in the past. Instead, she employed the skill and speed of a runway director and selected a dress and shoes before exiting. After expelling a loud breath, she shut the door and slumped against it.
“Be a good girl for Maria while I’m gone,” she said, rubbing Lily’s head.
She pulled from the protective gates of Casa Nonna, suitcase secured in the seat beside her. Facing the long stretch of Florida’s Turnpike, she toggled through her preset stations but found them grating. As another mile marker raced by her window, she pushed back her seat and tugged out the elastic band holding her hair before defaulting to her iPod and the music that guaranteed to soothe her soul—Italian opera.
The tension responsible for pinching her neck and back was but a memory by the time she sang her way through the first two arias of Tosca. Miles later, she noticed an elderly couple in the next car, their eyes wide, staring. She lowered the volume during her selections from Rigoletto, only to readjust it when traffic cleared, and she could speed off. Her picks from La Traviata had just ended as she pulled up to the apartment building she once called home.
“I’m here. I feel like I’ve been driving forever. Am I late?”
“No,” Melody said. “But if we don’t leave now, I’ll miss the beginning. We’ll catch up in the car. Throw me your keys. I’m queen for the day; I get to drive the chariot.”
When the purr of the engine was immediately followed by the dramatic crescendo of an opera, both Melody and Jill turned in unison to glare at Olivia, knowing too well its significance.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Can’t a girl enjoy a good opera without scrutiny?”
“Yes, but God only knows why she’d want to,” Jill said. “Is this still about that shoplifting problem? If it is, there are these new boots I’ve had my eye on. Maybe we can go shopping, and you can lift them for me.”
Olivia smiled waving her hand through the air. “Today’s about Melody’s graduation. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about me tomorrow.”
“We’ll hold you to that. For now, though, I may graduate into an ax murderer if I’m made to listen to another minute of opera,” Melody said through her teeth.
They arrived without a moment to spare. Like most graduations, the ceremony was lengthy and bordered on mind-numbing. Olivia thought it sad that although Melody understood her father’s attendance would incite a security nightmare, his absence saddened her. So, as she traversed the stage to accept her diploma, Olivia and Jill jumped to their feet and applauded her.
The women joined other graduates partying at a local club. While Jill and Melody worked the dance floor, Olivia looked on from her seat at the bar. The dull ache hovering just over her right eye since midway through the ceremony had blossomed to a skull-splitting migraine. As the music blared, Olivia sipped club soda through a straw. Cradling her head in her hands, she prayed for relief. Before long, the lights and music faded to black, and all she heard was the familiar tapping of her mother’s stiletto heels echoing through her ears.
*
“She’s awake!” Jill shouted from the chair beside the bed.
“What the hell happened to you last night?” Melody chimed in from the doorway.
Jill’s shrill voice and Melody’s demanding tone pierced Olivia’s ears, then slid to the pit of her stomach. She choked back vomit.
“What’s going on? I feel like crap,” Olivia said. She noticed she’d been tucked in the bed once hers, while bright rays streamed over her covers.
“You’ve got a good old-fashioned hangover,” Jill said quickly. “I’m not surprised you don’t remember. One minute you say you’re not drinking, and the next you’re downing Texas Two-steps and headed for the dance floor. How long you been drinking those?”
Olivia covered her face with her hands. “Never heard of them; I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I think she’s been holding out on us,” Melody said, moving farther into the room. “Are you taking dance classes? You had some moves. You can twerk like Nicki Minaj.”
“What does that mean?” Olivia cried.
Jill flopped onto the bed with a long sigh. “You know, booty shaking, bouncing. You had a crowd egging you on and a hot cowboy all over you. And I thought you said things were heating up between you and Ben. You looked pretty available last night.”
“I don’t remember any of it,” Olivia sobbed into the pillow. “It doesn’t sound like anything I’d do. Why didn’t you guys stop me?”
“Sweetie, we tried, and you cussed us out. Where’d you learn words like that?” Melody said. “We had to double-team you to get you out of there.”
“You kept telling us we were so cool and you wished you had friends like us,” Jill said.
“Oh, God,” Olivia wailed, turning over and raking her hands through her hair. “What will I tell Ben?”
“Don’t tell him anything!” Jill and Melody yelled in unison.
“Have you lost your mind?” Jill went on to ask.
“I’m beginning to think so,” Olivia sniveled into her hands.
“What I meant is that if you have any real feelings for Ben, keep your mouth shut. Nothing happened, really; at least, not anything intentional. Besides, you don’t remember any of it.”
Olivia sniffed, shifting her eyes from Jill to Melody. “You agree? You think I shouldn’t tell Ben?”
“Hell yes,” Melody said, without hesitation. “I wouldn’t want to see you ruin a good relationship because you mixed your migraine meds with alcohol.”
As much as Olivia would’ve loved to bury her head in the pillow and return to sleep, her troubled mind wouldn’t allow it. It was all a lie. She’d not taken her meds the night before; she’d forgotten to pack them into her small clutch. What was more, she had no memory of taking that first drink.
Later, when Olivia felt more like herself, they went shopping, leisurely coasting from store to store. When Jill and Melody gravitated toward a fragrance counter, eyebrows raised when Olivia chose to join them.
“I’m worried about you. You know damned well you can’t get within nose-shot of perfumes without triggering another migraine,” Melody said.
“I know. It’s just that I’ve caught some fragrance in my bathroom at Casa Nonna, and I’m trying to figure out what it is. I’ve asked my staff, but they know not to wear perfume. I’d love to get to the bottom of it. But today isn’t the day, I guess. The first one I tried is making me gag.”
“Maybe it’s some scented cleaning product or fabric softener,” Jill offered.
With a deep grimace, Olivia moved to a safe distance downwind of the counter. Her hangover symptoms had all but disappeared, along with her memory. Sadly, the questions remained.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Olivia
Bleary-eyed and bone weary, having survived Melody’s graduation, she slipped her key in the lock of Casa Nonna’s front door. When Lily danced at her feet, she dropped down next to her, discarding her bag and shoes, and pulled the puppy onto her lap.
“Olivia, you’re home,” Maria said, rounding the corner into the room. “This little girl missed you. She’s been sitting here in the foyer since you left. Maybe you should find her a friend.” Maria laughed as Lily covered Olivia’s face with kisses.
“Do you need a friend to play with, Lily?” Olivia said, deflecting the wet tongue roaming her face. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for taking care of her while I was gone.”
“Lily’s never a problem. Don’t forget about her big appointment with Dr. Hunter tomorrow. With an ounce of luck, she’ll lose that cast for good. I promised her a hamburger cupcake when she does.”
“I’ll remember.” She lifted Lily up the staircase to her bedroom and left her to settle on the
bed.
She kept her bathroom dark, not up to dealing with the truths in the mirror as she scrubbed the day from her face and teeth. After burrowing into her pillow, she used her last surge of energy and called Ben.
“I’m home and dead tired. I missed you.”
“Nice to know, missed you too. Get some sleep. I’ll call tomorrow.”
The next morning, Olivia brought Lily for the dog’s appointment. “Are you working this station alone today?” she asked the tall harried woman behind the desk.
“Everyone’s down the hall in the observation room,” she said between calls. “They’re all preoccupied with our most recent guests. I don’t see the draw.” She smacked her gum between each syllable.
Her curiosity piqued, Olivia had no choice but to check it out for herself. Centered in the room on the grandest of dog beds huddled a pair of dogs. Their expressions seemed skeptical of the growing crowd around them. From the door, she identified the larger of the two as a yellow Lab, protective over the smaller dog, which appeared as part Sheltie and part bear cub. They looked undernourished, and their mournful eyes dropped a weight on her breaking heart, causing her breath to shorten.
She walked farther into the room in search of Dr. Hunter and found him with his shoulder pressed to the back wall, scrutinizing the situation. “What can you tell me about these two?” she asked.
He jerked his head and checked his watch. “Olivia, sorry, I lost track of time and Lily’s appointment. They came in last night through the night drop off. We know from the security camera footage that they didn’t come together. But since their arrival, we haven’t been able to separate them. I’ve never seen anything like it, given they aren’t related and are both males.”
“How are they doing now?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the menagerie.
“Considering the short time they’ve been here, malnourished with signs of abuse, both have medically improved. The Lab is the sweetest dog you’d ever want to meet—as long as he isn’t separated from his friend. The Sheltie mix is a little introverted and has yet to figure out not everything that crosses his path is food. That’s most likely because he came so close to starving to death.”