“No? Well, since you’re not doing anything, I was hoping you’d join us for lunch.”
Olivia gave the piano a shove. “I can’t play anything on this silly toy. I have my own piano. A real one.”
Jill watched Olivia’s jaw tick like her father’s until her entire body vibrated.
“I can play a real piano.” She hesitated then gave the toy piano another shove. “But not anymore.”
Jill sighed as the fire in Olivia’s eyes died. Her stomach rumbled.
Olivia’s eyes widened and she giggled. “You’re hungry!”
Pleased to see her quick recovery, Jill smiled. “I am. Aren’t you?”
The little girl muttered, “Maybe.”
“Your grandmother said the cook made chicken salad. I like chicken salad.”
Olivia’s eyes brightened. “You do?” Her eyes clouded and she bent her head. “I think I like it, too. Sometimes I don’t remember.”
“How about if we find out? Lunch is on the terrace.”
“Is my dad there?”
“He should be by now.”
“He’s mad at me.” Olivia picked at her jeans.
“Oh? Why do you think that?” Jill asked, noting the stress between father and daughter.
Olivia ducked her head, but said nothing.
Jill fought the urge to stroke Olivia’s back. “I don’t think your father is angry with you.”
“Oh, he is.” Olivia’s eyes were grave.
“How about this?” Jill suggested, getting to her feet. “Your house is so big, I don’t think I can find my way back to the terrace. Would you take me?” Her stomach rumbled again.
Olivia took her hand. “It is big.”
They arrived just as Baines finished setting a fifth place at the table.
Gavin held a chair for his agent and glanced at Jill. “Ah, there you are, and with my daughter I see. Very good. Adrienne and I haven't finished our work, but we can take a few minutes to stop for lunch.”
Adrienne smiled up at him. “Thank you, darling.”
Edith caught Jill’s gaze. “I’ve insisted there be no talk of business at the table.”
Gavin stirred. His gaze shot between Adrienne and his mother. His mouth tightened, but said nothing.
Edith turned back to Jill. “These two will talk contracts, scheduling, music choice, publicity—you name it—endlessly. Since you’re our guest, I prefer we enjoy ourselves and keep our luncheon discussion away from business matters.”
“No talk of business. What a welcome change!” Adrienne’s green eyes glittered over Jill as she placed her hand on Gavin’s. “He can be such a beast.”
So, this is Gavin's agent. Green eyes, red hair, expensive clothing, everything about her implied intimacy with Gavin.
Baines appeared in the doorway. “Miss Olivia, we have yet to wash your hands. If you would be so good as to come with me, please.”
Olivia hopped off her chair and pattered over to the butler, taking his large hand in hers.
Adrienne adjusted her napkin across her lap. “It never ceases to amaze me what a fabulous view you have here, Edith. Why, I think you’ve got a better view than the governor. Wouldn’t you agree Miss—ah—Miss, I’m sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name.”
“Jillian Cole. Call me Jill,” she said, unwilling to stoop to Adrienne’s tactics and flaunt her credentials.
“Well, Jill, don’t you agree that this view is even grander than the governor’s mansion? But then, perhaps you’ve never been?” Adrienne asked.
Jill kept an even smile despite the fact that Adrienne was starting to get under her skin. “The governor’s mansion is open to the public. I’ve been there a number of times.”
“Oh, but then you haven’t seen the terrace view. They don’t allow the public on that side of the mansion.” Adrienne’s hand fluttered to the deep vee of her neckline.
Jill nodded. “Very true, they don’t.” Now isn’t this interesting. A classic case of competitive rivalry. I wonder if she feels this with every woman she encounters, or just when she’s around Gavin.
Edith chuckled. “I’m afraid Jill is being modest. Not only has she been a guest of our governor, but of the governors of a number of other states several times. Last year, she accepted the President’s invitation to dine at the White House.”
“Really?” Adrienne glanced at Edith, eyebrows drawn together. “And why is that?”
Edith shot a meaningful glance in the direction of her son. “I’m surprised Gavin hasn’t told you. This is Dr. Jillian Cole.”
When Adrienne didn’t react, Edith explained, “Dr. Cole is the leading researcher in the field of TBI.”
“Oh, she’s here for the child, of course.” Adrienne smoothed her napkin across her lap and smiled.
After lunch, Jill waved to Olivia who trotted off with Baines in tow, and turned her attention to Gavin and Edith. “I have a number of questions for the two of you. Perhaps there’s somewhere we can go?”
“Oh, no need to change venues because of me.” Adrienne looked to Gavin. “I’m like family.”
Gavin said, “You may start with Mother. Adrienne and I are in the middle of something.”
Jill folded her hands in her lap. Avoidance or deflection, she wondered. And why am I letting him frustrate me? Outwardly calm, she asked, “And when will you be ready to meet with me, Mr. Fairfield?”
Gavin smiled, tight-lipped. “I’ll let you know.”
Jill worked to tamp back her frustration. “Mr. Fairfield, a word please.” She rose and waited until Gavin did the same. “I’ll follow you. The library perhaps?”
Gavin strode ahead, held open the door, shut it firmly behind him, and crossed his arms. “What is it?”
Jill closed the distance between them, her gaze fixed on his. “I rearranged my schedule because you convinced me this morning you were serious. However, since arriving here, you’ve been unavailable.” She shifted away her gaze and made a point of holding her body open to keep from appearing combative. “I may not have made myself clear, and for that I apologize. To avoid any further misunderstanding or delays, let me restate my expectations. As Olivia’s father and only remaining parent, you promised your full participation in her assessment process. In fact, I believe your very words were ‘Olivia is my only priority’. I’m holding you to your promise. Starting now.”
Gavin scowled.
“One last thing. Your agent is not a family member. Plainly put, my protocol, which is based on Minnesota State regulations, will not allow non-family members to be a part of this process.” Jill waited for her words to take effect. “So, the decision is yours. Do we go forward with the assessment, or will I enjoy sunny Baja this weekend?” Gavin looked as though he’d been slapped, holding her gaze in a vice-like grip.
“Baines!” When the butler appeared in the doorway, Gavin snapped, “Adrienne is leaving. Collect her things, please.” He gripped Jill’s hand and started walking. “You come with me. I’ll show you just how cooperative I can be.”
Adrienne stood in the hallway, just outside the door and pouted. “But Gavin, darling, if this is about another program for the child, of course I should be included. How many times have I warned you about this?” She brushed nonexistent hair from Gavin’s eyes. “I can’t possibly protect your image if you won’t let me in on”
Gavin released Jill’s hand. “Don’t push, Adrienne. We’re done for the next several days.”
“But the other programs didn’t require you to shut me out” Adrienne tried again.
“And they had little or no effect.” Gavin flicked his wrist. “We’ll pick up where we left off when Dr. Cole has finished with my daughter.”
“Now Gavin, be reasonable. Your career and those nasty rumors” Adrienne tapped his chest and assumed a business-like tone.
“Can wait. My daughter can’t.” Gavin nodded to Baines, who came forward with Adrienne’s jacket and purse. “Off you go.”
Jill crossed her a
rms, intentionally deflecting the chill that settled around them as Gavin’s voice dropped, matching the arctic-like quality of his stare. The next several days would certainly not be dull.
Chapter Four
The day had grown too warm to be out in the direct sun. Edith suggested they move into the shade on the far end of the terrace.
Over fresh glasses of tea, Jill flipped open her tablet. “I need to better understand Olivia’s support system. Where is Olivia’s grandfather?”
Gavin answered, “Traveling.”
“Is he one of Olivia’s caregivers?” Jill met Gavin’s gaze.
“He’s gone a great deal.” Gavin said.
Jill leaned forward and tried again. “Is he involved in decision-making about Olivia?”
“He’s supportive of whatever Mother and I decide.”
She looked back and forth between Gavin and Edith. “I see. How much time does he spend with her, generally speaking?”
Gavin rubbed his eyes. “He adores her. Dotes on her when he’s around, but he travels about fifty-percent of the time. Does that just about cover it?”
“For now.” Jill entered a few notes into her tablet. “What is Adrienne’s role with this family?”
Gavin and Edith exchanged looks.
At their hesitation, Jill pushed away from the table and crossed her legs. “These are just the first of many questions that may feel invasive. If you’re going to resist each one, we’ll be at this a very long time. Or, we could skip the whole thing.” She flipped her tablet closed. “I still have time to catch my plane.”
“Jillian,” Edith spoke up.“I’ve been calling you Jillian, I hope that’s all right with you?”
“Of course.”
Edith spread her hands palms down on the table. “We prefer to be private and perhaps this comes off as evasive.” She looked at her son with a troubled gaze. Her mouth pulled tight. “Since the accident, there has been so much publicity, so many invasive questions from the media. Speculation and rumor have toppled our lives as we once knew them. We’ve tried to keep as much of the publicity as we can from Olivia. As a result, we’ve become guarded about even the most innocuous questions. Gavin has lived a great deal of his life in the public eye—always so favorably—until the accident.”
Her gaze held a deep sadness as she looked at her son. Edith leaned forward. “But in this media-crazed world, tragedy beckons to sensationalism. After the accident, our lawn was littered with paparazzi. They left us stripped of our privacy and dignity. Well, it’s not something you forget any time soon.” Her lips pressed into a weak smile. “So, if at times we seem less than forthcoming, now maybe you can understand.”
Jill nodded. “I appreciate your candor.” She turned to Gavin. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, I’ll ask again. What is your agent’s relationship to this family?”
Gavin’s jaw ticked. “Speculation about Liv, how the accident occurred, me—the rumors all became so damaging that I hired Adrienne to manage things and help restore our public image.” He broke off and turned away.
“Although Gavin’s known her for years she thinks of herself as one of the family.” Edith picked up the thread, her tone carried a tinge of disapproval. “Sometimes she doesn’t understand our preference for staying out of the headlines.”
Gavin gripped the table. “Adrienne came today to tell me we’ve lost another concert date. Having dates fall off the calendar can sink a career if not handled properly.”
Jill noted the way Gavin’s voice stretched like a rubber band. “Which is why you became unavailable this afternoon, I see.” Jill smoothed her skirt. “Well, which will you choose? Your career or your daughter?”
Gavin’s jaw ticked. “This is her career, too.”
****
Around six-thirty, Jill wrapped things up for the day. Gavin had kept his word to the point of almost being an annoyance by adopting a most charming version of himself. Despite how obvious his efforts were to intentionally appeal to her softer side, she struggled to steel herself against his winsome and engaging behavior. She walked to the edge of the terrace to peer over the stone wall. Her stomach fell away from the sheer drop to the woods below. Beyond, the blue of the St. Croix wound and curved. Stretching her legs felt good. This family suffered from deep pain stemming from shock and loss. And something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“I thought I might find you here.”
His low baritone startled her. “Yes.” She avoided his eyes—too distracting. “A view like this can help put things into perspective.”
For several moments they said nothing, watching the river below. She could hear the rhythm of his breathing and feel the heat of his body. Everything about the man was distracting.
“Perspective is an elusive concept. Tell me, Jillian. Do you still love it?”
The soft urgency in his voice scattered her thoughts and sent a ripple through her composure.
When she didn’t answer, he said, “Music—the cellodo you still love it?”
So, he did remember her. Relieved she wouldn’t have to out herself to him after all, she looked into his eyes. “Yes, I still love it.”
“Then come with me.” He reached for her hand.
She hesitated.
“Please, Jillian. Forget the ass I was all those years ago. Time for apologies later. Let me show you who my daughter really is so you can understand what we’re dealing with.”
Jill accepted his hand. His fingers gripped hers firmly. The memory of him sitting tall, hands flying in a staggering crescendo across the keyboard all those years ago caused her to sway.
“Steady there.” He released her hand and caught her around the waist.
She backed away but he reclaimed her hand and led her into the music hall where a black concert grand and an alabaster baby grand stood back-to-back. Both were buried under scores of music. The rest of the room was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves overflowing with sheet music, and large, unshaded windows.
“Over here.” He took her to the baby grand. “Look.” He picked up a hand-written score and handed it to her. “Olivia did this.”
Jill studied the girl’s work. She glanced up, surprised to find Gavin inches from her face as he stared at the score. Jill schooled herself against the tantalizing smell of his spicy white woods scent. “She composed this?”
“Yes.” Gavin’s gaze searched her face.
Jill’s fingers tightened around the score. “But this is very complex.” Of course she had known Olivia composed, but nothing had prepared her for this.
Gavin swallowed and raked his hand through his hair. “Yes. So, now you see.”
Jill laid the neatly scripted note work back on the baby grand and turned to Gavin in time to see naked hope burning deep in his eyes. His look set off an ache that began in her throat and snaked down to her very core. This is why he can’t accept Olivia’s limitations. What would have been once, is simply too large to let go of. He needs more time.
Painfully aware of trying to meet the man’s expectations at nineteen, Jill wondered how a ten-year old girl who’d already lost everything would feel. Could she help him? Could she help either of them?
Baines appeared in the doorway and cleared his throat. “Madam inquired as to who might take Dr. Cole home.”
When Gavin didn’t respond, the butler beckoned to Jill. “If you’ll come with me, Dr. Cole. It will be my pleasure to drive you home. There’s still plenty of light and the Bentley is a fine touring car. Would you be interested in taking the scenic drive back to the city? I can point out a number of interesting sights.”
“Thank you, Baines. The scenic drive sounds refreshing.”
Jill placed her hand on Gavin’s arm. The feel of his corded muscles made her instantly regret touching him. “I'm so sorry, Gavin,” she murmured, frustrated with how inadequate her words sounded.
Head suspended over Olivia's music, he didn’t respond other than to play a few notes on the keyboard. “She
'll do it again, one day,” he murmured. “One day.”
As she followed Baines out of the music hall, a backward glance at him told her he hadn’t even heard her.
A knowledgeable guide, Baines kept up an easy monologue as he drove, recalling the historical significance of the area, including treaties between the Ojibwa and Dakota nations, the burgeoning lumber mills in the late 1800s, and the week Jesse James spent terrorizing the small settlement of Northfield on the river between Shadow Hills and Minneapolis.
They were almost home when he said, “He’s not as he seems.” His gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “The Maestro. He’s not as he seems.”
With a shake of her head, she broke eye contact. “I can’t discuss Mr. Fairfield with you or anyone else. I’m sure you understand.”
The butler’s gaze flashed the rearview mirror. “Earlier, you asked me about the little miss’ routine. The ‘yes or no’ answers I provided on your form don’t do him justice.”
Jill stared into the butler’s eyes through the mirror. “What is your point, exactly?”
“The maestro is a complex man. He doesn’t fit easily into any of your boxes or scenarios.”
“I would agree with you, there,” she’d said the words before she could stop herself.
Baines steeled his eyes on the road. “If you know that, then perhaps you’ll help him.”
“My focus is Olivia.” And a good thing too because her father is…She searched her mental lexicon for a word and settled on indomitable. Pity the therapist who will one day work with him!
Eyes straight ahead, Baines glanced in the rearview mirror again. “It would seem you can’t help one without helping the other,” he said, sounding mildly victorious.
Jill sighed, exhaustion pulling on her muscles. “Too often, that’s the problem.”
Baines steered hard left, avoiding the line-up of cars exiting the freeway and adjusted his chauffeur’s cap. “Problem?”
“Not everyone wants help.”
****
Late the next afternoon, Jill frowned, rereading her summary notes. Olivia Fairfield is bright, at times guarded, and often guileless. She tires easily and resents even the slightest suggestion she might not be able to do something. Her grandmother overindulges her. Her father’s pattern with her is unclear, if in fact there’s any consistency at all outside the discipline of music.
Naked Hope Page 4