by A. E. Radley
Emily shook her head.
“Not a damn thing. Money is an object, a thing. A very important thing, I absolutely understand that, but to me it’s just a thing. Some people earn their money, some people inherit it, some people marry into it, some people steal it, and some people win it. A person cannot be judged for their money, only what they ultimately do with it.”
Olivia leaned on the back of the sofa and pointed towards the guest bedroom. “Today, you gave me a gift. The gift of Henry’s company. A gift that money can’t buy. I am not precious about money. I would shovel hundreds of thousands of dollars into a furnace if it meant spending more time with you and Henry.”
Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Olivia held up her hand, begging for silence. She didn’t know if she was saying the right things, but she was speaking from the heart, and that had to count for something.
“I know I don’t always make sense, and I know that sometimes I say the wrong thing and people find it hard to follow my train of thought. But in this I am resolute; I believe that people come before money. I have money, and I wish to share it with you. It’s no more valuable than you sharing your life and family with me.”
Emily was silent, her expression unreadable.
Olivia chuckled. “I want to buy Henry a bunk bed with a slide. I want to convert a bedroom for you to have an office, with built-in shelves for your scripts. I want to put a trampoline in the garden—away from the pool, of course. I want to be a unit. A family.”
Emily quickly walked towards her, arms outstretched. Olivia fell in and gathered her up in a tight embrace.
“I don’t always understand your methods, Olivia Lewis,” Emily whispered. “But I’m starting to understand your intent.”
Olivia frowned as she tightly held to Emily. “Is that a good thing?” she murmured.
“A very good thing,” Emily replied tenderly.
“Are we breaking up?” Olivia asked.
“No.” Emily squeezed Olivia a little tighter.
“Are we fighting?” Olivia continued.
Emily chuckled a little. “No.”
“I’ve not said the wrong thing?”
“Definitely not. You said the most perfect thing.”
Olivia nodded and squeezed her eyes shut as she gripped on to Emily.
“Olivia?” Emily said softly.
“Mmm?”
“I love you,” Emily whispered.
Olivia tensed up. She hadn’t expected Emily to say what she’d been thinking for days, weeks, even. She was used to rushing headlong into things and being in a completely different place than other people. But now Emily had said it, had been the first one to say it. She’d known that Emily cared for her, but love? She’d only dared hope. Suddenly, the weight of holding in her true feelings was lifted.
“I love you,” Olivia replied. “I love you so very much. I have done for a long time.”
Emily pulled back and looked at Olivia with a wide smile.
“This is crazy, isn’t it?” Emily asked with a chuckle.
Crazy didn’t sound good, and Olivia felt herself frown.
“In a good way,” Emily amended. “I just mean how quickly things have happened and how well we fit together. I never saw this coming.”
Olivia breathed a small sigh of relief. She nodded. “I’m very glad that it did.”
“Me too.” Emily’s eyes drifted down and she raised an eyebrow. Olivia looked down to the two open blouse buttons. “Now, where was I?”
Olivia laughed. “I believe you were attempting to seduce me in order to get me to spill my secrets.”
“And it worked,” Emily pointed out. “I wonder what else I can get you to admit to.”
Olivia took a step back, fully aware that Emily was able to see the tip of her red lace bra. “Two can play that game,” she said as she brought her hands to the third button of the blouse.
Satisfaction coursed through her as Emily’s eyes grew wide in anticipation.
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” Emily murmured.
“Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?” Olivia suggested. She walked past Emily without waiting for a response, happy when she heard Emily right on her heels.
They entered the master bedroom, and Emily closed the door behind them. She looked around the room and let out a low whistle.
“Fancy,” she joked.
“Yes,” Olivia said seriously as she stared at Emily meaningfully.
“You seem to have forgotten what you were doing,” Emily said. In a couple of quick strides, she stood in front of Olivia with her hands on the straining third button. “Would you like some help?”
Olivia found herself momentarily speechless. Not that it mattered, as a second later Emily’s lips were tender on hers. Olivia felt a soft moan bubble up inside her as Emily unbuttoned the third button.
She was so distracted by Emily’s kiss that she didn’t notice Emily pulling the blouse down her arms while the bottom buttons remained done up, effectively trapping her arms behind her back.
“A rookie-interrogator mistake,” Emily whispered against Olivia’s lips.
“I was distracted.” Olivia leaned forward and captured Emily’s lips again, intensifying the kiss by nipping at Emily’s bottom lip with her teeth.
Emily gasped and Olivia took the opportunity to shuck her arms out of the blouse and quickly pull Emily close, revelling in the sensation of holding her against her own bra-clad body.
Emily leaned her body away while maintaining the kiss, and for a brief second Olivia thought that something had gone wrong, that the moment was over. Then she heard the sound of ripping thread and buttons lightly bouncing on the carpet. Then Emily’s body was back against hers, and she felt skin against skin.
“I love you,” Olivia announced into the kiss. She was unsure why the declaration had bubbled from her lips at that exact moment. She seemed to have no control of her voice, her heart taking the shortest route to her mouth and no longer bothering to consult her brain.
Emily’s hands started to unbutton the rest of Olivia’s blouse. “I love you too, so much I can’t even think straight. Let’s get this damn top off.”
Olivia chuckled as she stepped back to give Emily the access she needed to remove the troublesome blouse. As Emily made quick work of the buttons, Olivia stared hungrily at her. She hadn’t known it was possible for tight jeans and a black bra to look so good.
Emily’s pale white skin looked so soft and inviting, and she wanted to see more of it. She grabbed hold of Emily’s jeans by the waistband and jerked her closer, her other hand holding Emily’s face still as she kissed her hungrily.
Emily wrapped her arms around Olivia, her hands slowly working their way down her naked back until they rested on the top of the zip of her skirt before pulling away and asking, “May I?”
Olivia didn’t trust her voice not to waver so simply nodded. A second later, she felt Emily slowly inch the zip down until her skirt fell away from her body and dropped to the floor.
“Garters?” Emily asked. “Are you a walking, talking fantasy?”
“They’re convenient,” Olivia defended.
“They’re something all right.” Emily licked her lips.
Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but Emily pushed her shoulders and she found herself falling onto the bed with a squeak.
“You’re a squealer,” Emily noted with a smirk before straddling her hips.
“And you’re very forward.” Olivia placed her hands on Emily’s hips, wishing she’d had time to rid her of her jeans.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Emily promised.
CHAPTER 38
Olivia looked up from her newspaper to see Henry turning his head from one side to another with a frown. He kicked off his shoes, quickly scrambled his feet up onto the plush sofa, and turned his body around until his legs were sticking straight up the back of the sofa and his head dangled off the edge. With a small giggle, he regarded the upside-down sc
reen, stretched his arms out on the sofa, and took a deep breath as he watched.
“Henry, what are you doing?”
“Watching,” he replied without looking at her.
“Why are you sitting like that?” Olivia asked with a confused frown.
Henry shrugged, or tried to, but his current position didn’t allow for much movement.
Olivia put her newspaper down and looked from the boy to the television. “I don’t think you can see very well sitting like that.”
“It’s fun,” Henry claimed.
Olivia looked at the screen with a frown as she twisted her head from one side to the other, then shook her head as she realised what she was considering.
“So, what toys did you bring with you today?” Henry had only been with her for half an hour, and while he had seemed very receptive to the idea at first, he’d become withdrawn soon after Emily left.
“Jigsaw.” Henry looked up at her with a hopeful face.
“Why don’t you go and get your jigsaw, then we can both do it together?”
Henry pressed his feet against the sofa and managed an impressive forward roll to the floor. Impressive in that he didn’t break his neck while doing it. Olivia reached out to help him a second too late, and he’d already managed to land on his feet and was on his way to the guest bedroom, where he’d left his bags.
She pressed her hand to her heart as violent images of Henry’s neck snapping or him rolling straight into the glass coffee table entered her mind. She was beginning to wonder whether or not she was fully prepared to watch him for two days and an overnight stay. It had only been a short while, and he’d already nearly broken his neck. She jumped to her feet to follow him in case of any other potential injury, deciding that the best course of action was to watch him like a hawk.
As she entered the guest bedroom, she saw the abandoned open bag and looked around in confusion until she heard Henry call her name from the en suite bathroom. Peering around the corner, she saw the boy sitting on the toilet with his trousers and underwear hanging off the ends of his dangling feet. He was reaching to the side for the toilet roll holder on the wall, which was just out of reach of his small arms. She entered the room with her eyes averted, pulled off a few sheets, and passed them to him.
“Thank you,” he said brightly as he wiped himself methodically and then jumped down from the toilet. He threw the used paper into the bowl, pressed the button behind the toilet, and watched as fresh water rushed down the sides of the bowl.
Once the show was over, he pulled up his underwear and trousers, walked to the sink, and stretched up to use the soap and water. Olivia realised it was a struggle for him to reach and lifted him to sit on the vanity unit.
Pumping too much liquid soap onto his hands, he pressed them together and pulled them apart again, watching the soapy bubbles emerge.
“Are you mommy’s girlfriend?” Henry asked as he watched the bubbles.
Olivia felt a wave of heat flush her cheeks. “Yes, I am.” She tried to keep the panic out of her voice but didn’t think she was having much success. Why was Henry asking such questions? Did he even know what a girlfriend actually was?
Henry turned the tap on. “When are you and Mommy going to get married?”
Olivia was sure her heart stopped, or at least skipped a couple of essential beats. She opened her mouth and closed it again as she stared at the boy rinsing soap from his hands. She had no idea how to answer that question, nor what Emily would expect her to say or do. In all the instructions that Emily had left for looking after Henry, this had never come up.
“Can Tiny come when you get married? Will you get married in a church like Natalie did?” Henry asked, turning to face her.
She considered what to say and the hundred or so ways that her responses could have serious repercussions. “You’ll have to ask your mother,” Olivia eventually said. “Let’s dry your hands.”
Olivia grabbed a towel from the rail, turned off the tap, and gently dried his hands.
“Why do you live in a hotel?” Henry frowned. “Is it because you like towels?”
“Towels?” Olivia questioned.
“There are towels everywhere, even in the wardrobes. You must really like towels. And pillows too.” Henry decided his hands were dry enough, pulled them from the towel, and pushed himself to the ground.
He stumbled slightly and then tottered into the bedroom. Olivia threw the towel to the floor and quickly followed him, wondering what he might get up to next.
Henry picked up the jigsaw and walked into the dining room. By the time Olivia caught up to him, he was tipping it out onto the table. He pulled out a chair, climbed up, and leaned on the table, sorting the pieces. Olivia decided to sit opposite him and wait for instructions. She’d played with Henry enough to know that you waited for a duty to be assigned to you.
“Find the edges,” Henry told her, holding up an edge piece to show her.
Olivia nodded and started to search through for edge pieces. She noticed that Henry was quickly grabbing as many as he could and realised that he thought of it as a competition. Feigning a lack of ability to find any, she brushed her hands over pieces as if hunting for elusive edges, often uncovering one for him to see before moving on.
“Did Mommy sleep in your bed the other night?” Henry asked.
Olivia suddenly understood what people meant when they spoke of cold dread. A spark of fear shivered through her spine as she wondered what on earth she could say to that.
“’Cos when I woke up in the night, she wasn’t there. But in the morning she was. So she slept in your bed, didn’t she?” Henry battled to get two mismatched pieces of the jigsaw to fit together.
“Well…um, yes, she did,” Olivia agreed tentatively. In the back of her mind, she could see Emily folding her arms and staring at her with displeasure for saying the wrong thing. Was it the wrong thing to say? She had no idea. She’d signed up for a night of babysitting, not an inquisition. She tried to remind herself that Henry had no idea of the sensitivity of what he was asking—even if she did wonder if she was unintentionally scaring him for life.
“If you and Mommy live together, will I have my own bed?” Henry asked as he tossed one of the pieces aside, picked up another, and easily snapped them together.
“You’ll have to ask your mother about that too,” Olivia said as she stood up. She couldn’t take any more questions; she was terrified what he would ask next, and concerned that she would bankrupt herself and Emily at the cost of his lifelong therapy bills if she said the wrong thing. “Would you like some juice?”
Henry nodded, and Olivia rushed out of the room, breathing heavily as she wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Were these normal questions for a five-year-old to be asking? And what would normal answers be? Running away from the problem certainly wasn’t the right answer, but it was the best one she had at the moment.
Once in the kitchen, Olivia picked up her mobile phone from her handbag and selected a contact. She pressed the device to her ear and waited for a reply, occasionally checking the hallway for Henry.
“Hello, Olivia,” Nicole answered. “How’s young Henry?”
“He’s only been here three quarters of an hour, and he’s already asked if Emily and I are sleeping together. And he wants to know if we’re getting married,” Olivia declared in a breathless panic.
“Aww,” Nicole cooed. “Well? Are you getting married? Can I be a bridesmaid? By the way, I hate pink, so don’t even think about it.”
“Nicole, this is serious,” Olivia hissed.
Nicole laughed. “See, kids aren’t as easy as you think, are they?”
“Why is he asking these questions?” Olivia asked. “And how am I supposed to answer them?”
“Well, firstly, he’s…what…five? Five-year-olds ask about a million questions a day. Secondly, he’s five. You don’t owe him any answers, and certainly not any detailed answers. By all means, tell him that you sleep with his mother. To him, s
leep is sleep. Just remember that he sees things in a childlike way.”
“I’m terrified of what he might ask next,” Olivia confided. She checked the hallway once more before getting a glass out of the cabinet and opening the refrigerator door.
“Then chair the conversation,” Nicole offered. “Think of it as a board meeting. Guide his thoughts to where you want. Ask him questions. His mind is only wandering because you’ve allowed it to.”
Olivia poured some juice and nodded. “Yes, okay, that makes sense.”
“Good, glad I could be of assistance,” Nicole replied. “I’d start charging you for these chats, but it’s all going in my memoirs anyway.”
“One more thing,” Olivia started as she placed the juice back in the refrigerator and closed the door.
“Yes?” Nicole asked.
“I might have neglected to tell you that I’ve bought a house and asked Emily to move in with me,” Olivia stated.
Nicole had clearly been taking a sip of something and started to cough wildly. “What?” she spluttered. “That’s fast. Even by your standards.”
“I love her,” Olivia said softly. “And Henry.”
“Oh, believe me, I know,” Nicole said gently. “I’m really happy for you. Shocked, but happy for you.”
“She hasn’t said yes.”
“Did she say no?”
“She said she would think about it. And said that it was all happening rather quickly.”
“But she didn’t say no,” Nicole added. “I assume you’re only telling me this now in case Emily mentions it when I next speak to her?”
“Maybe,” Olivia allowed.
“That’s it. We’re setting up weekly Skype lunches. The only way I could ever get anything out of you was by sitting you down and watching you slowly crack under the pressure of my gaze.”
Olivia chuckled. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Nicole admitted. “Seriously, though, we’re having weekly Skype lunches. It will be our new thing. You can’t get rid of me just by moving to New York.”