To Be With You

by Daphne Abbott

  I fucking hated the prick.

  “No. And it looks like they got a fresh supply of booze,” I said and pointed to a stack of cases of beer to our left.

  “They’re already driving on the lawn and littering everywhere. I need to stop this before they destroy the house,” Olivia said.

  “You should probably just call the cops and let them handle it,” I replied as I kept my eyes on a group of guys that had surrounded two girls who were making out. No one had crossed a line yet, and the girls looked sober. But it wasn’t something I wanted to take my eyes from.

  “My dad will kill me.”

  “Liv, there is no way you’re getting out of tonight clear. This party’s gotten too big. One of our parents will find out about it, and then we’ll all be toast.”

  There was a loud yell from the group around the fire, and another round of fireworks exploded. At this rate, we wouldn’t need to call the cops; the noise would bring them right to us. Van Ess House stood isolated on this side of the lake, but there were plenty of neighbors on the other side that had an unrestricted view of what was going on in Rose’s prized flower garden.

  “Let’s go up to the front of the house and call from there. Cell reception is better there,” Olivia said, and then turned to give me a smile. “Then let’s watch them scamper like rats from a sinking ship.”

  I grinned back. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.”

  Olivia led me around to the side of the house where the property line between the Van Ess House and the national forest met. The dense forest made this side of the house so dark it was nearly impossible to see six inches in front of my face. Olivia walked through the thick darkness with a confidence that told me she took this route on the regular.

  “We can hide here,” she whispered and pulled me into a dark little crevice created by the garden planters and the wrap-around porch.

  “The cops will see us,” I warned. I already could feel the heat from her skin radiating onto mine. The sensation was like being wrapped in a blanket warm from the dryer.

  “Trust me, no one will see us here.”

  Olivia made the call while I peered through the overgrown branches of the lilac bush at my left. I could see that the girls I’d been watching had moved on with two of the guys from the crowd. Since no one seemed in distress, I turned my attention to finding Peter in the crowd. It would make my night—no, my year—if the cops swept him up when they got here.

  “... I promise. No, Sadie, I don’t need a ride…”

  I heard Olivia finish her call and move to stand at my side to watch the party. “Was that Sadie Douglas?” I asked, even though I’d heard her say the new deputy’s name.

  “Yeah, she gave me her personal number to call.”

  I wanted to ask why Olivia would need the private number of our county’s newest deputy, but we weren’t that close anymore. There were too many years and incidents between us, but maybe tonight I could change all that.

  * * *

  “Earth to Callum. Blink twice if you can hear me.”

  “Wha–” I shook myself from the memory and turned to look at Fabián. “Sorry, what?”

  “Been calling your name for the last five minutes.” He frowned, his face a mask of worry and concern, as he pulled me back toward the rental car. “We don’t have to do this today. Or at all.”

  I covered his hand with my own and dug my feet in. Even though my best friend dressed like some badass in black leather, obscure concert tees, and a metric ton of silver jewelry, he was the biggest mother hen I’d ever met. When I stopped, Fab’s expression grew darker. I mustered a smile to ease his worry.

  “I’m fine,” I said, and pulled his hand from my arm. “The house doesn’t scare me.”

  “No, just the ghosts she holds.”

  I laughed and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “The ghosts of my past will not be a problem for me. I promise. The ghost that haunts the attic may be another story.”

  “Don’t distract me with jokes.” Fabián narrowed his eyes. “If you do that zombie thing again, I’m calling your therapist.”

  I opened my mouth to retort, but the mansion door opened with a creak worthy of the Bates motel. Olivia stepped out onto the porch, swearing at the door with some truly excellent insults, before she turned to notice we were standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Uh, hey,” she said with a sheepish grin, then flapped her hand toward the large wood and glass door as she walked down the steps to greet us. “Damn thing either sticks or blows open at the slightest breeze. There’s no in-between.”

  I watched her descend the stairs like a queen and felt like a lowly serf. Olivia looked like she was fresh from some important business meeting in a form-fitting gray dress that should have looked basic, but because it was on Olivia, it looked better than what the fashionable women in New York wore. The fabric stretched over her body like a second skin, accentuating every dip and curve of her statuesque body to such a tempting degree that I wondered if my resolve would hold out for the summer. I’d been sure in New York that I could remain indifferent to my newest client, but now I was staring after her like I used to as an idiot teenager.

  Fabián cleared his throat. “Hello. I’m Fabián Duchene, the cinematographer,” he said in an accent that was thicker than usual.

  I know that comically thick southern Creole accent meant he was feeling stressed. It was his defense mechanism. I assumed he was doing it now because he was aware of all the ways the woman before us had wrecked me. Though I’d worked hard in therapy to get over what had happened between us, Fab still carried resentment for Olivia. Hopefully, he’d get over this mother hen protective shit soon because I would not spend the entire project listening to that odd mix of backwoods Louisiana and upper-crust French.

  Olivia didn’t seem to notice because her smile was wide and welcoming. “As I understand it, you’re much more than that.”

  Fab’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before he smoothed his angular features back into his typical aloof and charming expression. “Oui, you’ve seen our channel?”

  “No, yeah. You seem to be a lot more than just a cinematographer. My friend Lucy and I watched several of your videos where you acted as the interior designer, and your aesthetic is amazing.” Here she smiled at me before looking back at my friend. “Dare I say, even better than that professional you were using last year.”

  Fabián burst out laughing, and I was pleased to hear it sounded genuine. “Rafe? He’s an ex and a pretentious asshole who thinks it’s chic to paint everything white.”

  Olivia’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your ex.”

  “Trust me, he deserves worse than what you said.” I gave her a reassuring smile before turning back to the house. “Well, I was expecting worse. But it also could be better.”

  “We’ve only had someone come out to do the barest maintenance while Rose was in the care facility. Near the end, she didn’t have the heart to start the large projects that needed to be done.”

  Olivia spun on heels tall enough they must have boosted her to almost six feet. She walked back up the stairs she’d just descended and headed for the front door. Of their own volition, my eyes drifted down to check out to the curve and shape of her ass and long legs.

  Fab cleared his throat again.

  I glanced over at him and shrugged in a “what can you do” way, and he just rolled his eyes again as he followed our host.

  The door groaned again as Olivia led us into the grand foyer. Dust motes danced in the air, and late afternoon sun dappled the space with golden light. My heart kicked in excitement to see the familiar carvings on the banister and wood-paneled walls were still intact.

  “I can’t believe this survived without being trashed by vandals,” I said as I ran a reverent hand over the flowers carved into the oak. “Most of
the houses this age that stand empty have all the windows broken, and the fixtures stolen.”

  “Maybe the Bluebonnet Bride scares them off,” Olivia said with a chuckle, then turned to Fabián. “Has he told you the ghost story yet?”

  “No, I didn’t know you had a ghost story to go with the creepy mansion vibes.”

  Olivia laughed as she tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Doesn’t every empty Victorian have a ghost story?”

  “You should tell him the story, Liv. You were always the one that told it best,” I said.

  “Maybe another day. Let’s just do the tour. I’m ready to crash after a long day at work,” she said.

  For the first time since we’d arrived, I could see the lines of strain at her eyes and the pinched look around her mouth. “We can do this another day if you don’t feel well,” I said.

  She waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just worked up because I put in my two weeks’ notice three weeks ago, and I can’t seem to get myself untangled from the job.”

  Olivia turned and led us out of the foyer toward the formal dining room. As she gave Fab the details of the furnishings and special features of the house, I wandered the rooms a few steps behind them. I could have done the tour on my own, but I enjoyed listening to Olivia talk about her family’s legacy. She was probably the only other living person who cared about this place as much as I did, and it was a treat to hear her share that with Fab.

  Before I knew it, we’d been through every level and room of the house and were standing in the back garden. Here the ravages of time were much more noticeable. The fountain, which had been crumbling fifteen years ago, was now just a pile of stone and concrete that had weeds growing through the cracks.

  Brush and grass choked the paths Rose had maintained with military precision. But I spied between the ragweed and thistles, the occasional tulip or rose. It would have mortified Rose to see her prized beds in such a state, but I found the flowers among the weeds to be an encouraging sign of resilience.

  “What’s with the trailer in the driveway?” I asked as Olivia, and I stood watching Fabián walk around the backyard filming whatever he found interesting.

  “That? That there’s an RV, Clark,” Olivia said in a sarcastic southern accent.

  I laughed at her reference to the classic holiday movie. “Seriously, Liv. Is one of Nick’s guys living out here?”

  “Nope, it’s home sweet home for me.” She turned and grinned. “Well, at least until you get the reno done on the carriage house, and I can move into the new apartment we have planned.”

  I remembered the apartment from the plans she’d sent me earlier. It hadn’t occurred to me she would live on-site, but it made sense. “You can’t seriously be living out here by yourself.”

  I knew I’d made a mistake when her face changed from open and teasing to cold and shuttered. “I am.”

  I forced myself not to flinch at her tone. Olivia had mastered an icy look in the last fifteen years that rivaled her dead aunt’s for efficacy. Rose Van Ess used the same look to put me in my place as a child, and it felt no less embarrassing to have Olivia look at me the same way.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered after several awkward moments. “I just... It’s really remote out here on this side of the lake. You don’t have a neighbor that’s closer than a half-mile, and cell reception still sucks up here.”

  Some of the frost melted from her face. “You’re not wrong. But don’t forget, I have a scary ex-special forces brother who taught me how to defend myself. I’m equipped to handle any intruder, be it man or beast.”

  I laughed, not because I found her determination funny, but because it was my default reaction when I didn’t know what to say. “Again, I’m sorry. Just—I know I don’t need to say this—just be careful.”

  Olivia looked at me with a look I didn’t quite understand. The setting sun made her chestnut hair shine like amber in the dying light, and her hazel eyes were almost spookily black in comparison. I had to blink several times to reassure myself I wasn’t seeing a ghost, but a real-life Olivia before me. For years, I “saw” Olivia in every pretty brunette on the street. I had to remember that for the first time in years, it was the real woman before me.

  “Thanks for the concern,” Olivia finally said, with a soft smile.

  Again, my heart sped up at that smile. If history was proof, I couldn’t stay sane when I was under her spell. I’d need to be careful to guard myself from this woman. Otherwise I wasn’t leaving Eagle Creek without some fresh scars, thanks to Olivia Van Ess.

  “This place is amazing,” Fab said as he walked up the hill from the lake. “It’s going to make for some really beautiful before and after shots.”

  Olivia smiled. “Thanks, I think so too.”

  “You got what you wanted?” I asked my cameraman.

  “Yup, and now I’m starving. How about some dinner? Liv?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve already had a long day.” She looked between both Fab and me. “Maybe sometime later in the week?”

  “Oh, come on,” Fab said. “We’ll make the boss man put it on the company card, and we’ll write it off as a business expense.”

  Olivia turned to look at me, and I just shrugged and smiled. “No pressure. If you want to come out with us, that’d be great. But I understand if you still don’t feel well.”

  “Why not? I could use a drink after doing battle with my boss, who refuses to become my ex-boss.” She laughed at her own joke. “I need to change, though. How about we meet at your brother’s bar in thirty?”

  Chapter 8

  Olivia

  The first headlights crested the hill ten minutes after I made the call. At first, no one seemed to notice or care that the cops had arrived, and I worried that I’d let people get too drunk before calling in the cops. But I couldn’t linger, or risk being caught up in the cops’ net.

  “Come on,” I said, and tugged on Cal’s hand when the deputies passed our hiding spot.

  “Where are we going?” he whispered.

  “You said you parked your truck by the carriage house, right?”

  “Yeah, it was the only spot open when I got here.”

  “Good, because there’s an old tractor path around the field that leads back to the driveway.” I kept my voice low as I lead him through the dark yard toward the carriage house. “We can avoid the cops if we hurry up.”

  “You’re the one that called. Sadie knows you’re here,” he argued, but continued to follow me.

  “She won’t tell,” I replied.

  “She’s a cop, of course she’ll tell.” Even as he argued, I heard him pull out the keys from his pocket. The old truck he’d bought months ago sat by itself in the shadows of the carriage house.

  I couldn’t tell him why I was so sure Sadie would keep quiet. Couldn’t let him know the secrets I’d learned about the young woman. And even though I felt like it was blackmail to use my knowledge to keep her quiet, I would continue to use my leverage as needed. After all, didn’t my dad teach me that information was the most powerful weapon of all?

  Cal helped me up into the ancient truck, then circled the hood and got in the driver’s seat. Before putting the keys in the ignition, he turned to me and said, “You’re sure?”

  I nodded, even though I doubted he could see me in the dark. “Positive. Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

  Cal hesitated for another moment before turning the key and firing the truck to life. It sounded like a shotgun blast in the middle of the quiet night, but the cops must have been occupied because as we drove away no one came to investigate. I helped Cal navigate the old road, avoiding the tangle of cop cars blocking the driveway, and within seconds we were on the main road, heading back toward town.

  I rolled down the windows to let in the cool night air and laughed for the first time in wha
t felt like forever. “Holy shit!”

  Cal chuckled. “That felt close.”

  “I know,” I said as I raised my voice to be heard over the wind noises. “I was worried they’d come get us as soon as you turned on the truck.”

  “Fuck, me too.” Cal reached over and turned on the radio, flipping through stations until he found one playing alternative rock. Audioslave pumped through the speakers with a sad song about a guy waiting for someone.

  Just as I leaned forward to switch it to something happier, Cal started singing along with Chris Cornell. I froze, fascinated by the smooth tenor of his voice. I’d known Cal for our entire lives, and I’d never once heard him sing. Maybe it was the song, or the sad way he mimicked the talented Cornell’s style. Whatever the reason, my heart ached. Was there someone Cal was thinking of as he sang? Did he wait for someone?

  Sadness and longing filled the car as he sang and all I could do was just listen and stare. The moment broke when the song ended and switched to an upbeat No Doubt song. Cal continued to sing along, but my chance to ask him about his connection to the song felt like it’d slipped through my fingers.

  It didn’t take long for him to pull up in front of my house. The two-story building was dark, not even the landscape lights were on. Priscilla, my second cousin that lived with us and took care of me and Liam, was out of town for the weekend. Dad was probably out somewhere wining and dining with people he called friends, but secretly hated. And my older brother had moved out years ago to join the Army.

  I was used to being alone in the house, but tonight it felt especially sad.

  “You okay?” Cal asked. He’d parked in the street in front of the house and turned off the headlights, but left the radio playing in the background.

  “Yeah,” I said, even though I was anything but.

  Cal grunted. “Do you want me to come in and check the place with you?”

  “I’m not afraid of my house,” I said.

  I could feel his eyes on me as they traveled up and down my body. “Could have fooled me.”