One Night with the Boss

by Teresa Southwick

  He didn’t feel the same.

  And so her fantasy was really and truly over, with a completely different outcome from the one her imagination had cooked up. Real life was cruel that way, spoiling the happy ending. It had been a lot more magical in her head. She should have known when he’d poured the brandy and his toast had been “to you” and not “to us.”

  “There is no us and never will be.”

  Tears she’d kept him from seeing rolled down her cheeks as she walked away.

  * * *

  When Olivia didn’t show up for work by ten o’clock on Monday morning, Brady started to worry. He’d known the clock was ticking on her departure after employee-appreciation weekend, but they’d agreed she would work one more week with her replacement. It wasn’t like her. If he wore a watch, he could set it by her. On top of that, her replacement had arrived, but there was no one there to fine-tune her training. He’d sent the woman home with orders to read company handbooks and policy manuals again. He was too preoccupied to deal with someone who was practically a stranger.

  The first hour he’d assumed Olivia was just late, even though it was out of character. Then another sixty minutes passed and he decided she was punishing him. For the record, he didn’t see that he’d done anything wrong.

  So during the last two hours he’d answered the phone but couldn’t help anyone who’d called, because Olivia always did that. In between, he couldn’t do his own work because it was impossible to concentrate, so he paced like a caged tiger between his office and her empty one.

  While pacing, he had a lot of time to think and his thoughts went back to what had happened Saturday night. They’d had sex. Somehow it felt deeper and more profound than just the physical act. It was fantastic. Then she’d said she loved him and he didn’t respond. Now he allowed that might have been thoughtless.

  And he’d taken thoughtless to a whole new level by not contacting her. He hadn’t talked to her since she’d left the Lodge, figuring that would give her some space to cool off. Again, hindsight was twenty-twenty, and he realized that might have been a mistake. To cool off presupposed that someone was angry, and maybe that’s not what she was.

  That left hurt. But she was very important to him and hurting her was the last thing he’d ever do. At least not on purpose. So he had to correct his thoughtless mistake and talk to her.

  He took his cell phone from the case on his belt and hit speed dial. Hers was the first number and it rang several times before he got her voice mail.

  “This is Olivia Lawson. Please leave your name, number and a brief message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

  When he heard the beep Brady said, “Liv, it’s me. You’ve got my number. Call me back.”

  He clicked off and his frustration built to the breaking point. Brief message, his ass. “You’re late for work” was short. Ditto for saying her behavior was childish. Throwing his phone against the wall seemed like a good thing to do, but rational thought came through just in time. It was just that hearing her voice made him long for her to walk through the door, say good-morning, then sit at her desk so they could get back to normal.

  And then his imagination kicked in. Maybe there was something wrong. She could have fallen in the shower and hit her head. He needed to find her, see her, talk to her. If he knew any of her neighbors, he’d call them to check on her, but he didn’t. So he’d go himself. Anyone in the company who really needed him could call his cell.

  He left the house, slamming the door behind him before getting in his car. He peeled out of the driveway, which wasn’t like him but seemed appropriate under the circumstances. She didn’t live that far away, but the drive seemed to take a lifetime. When he finally got to the apartment complex, he drove in but didn’t see her car, so she’d gone somewhere.

  Still, he was here and should be thorough. He parked and hurried up the walkway to her door, then knocked loudly. Listening intently, he didn’t hear anything from inside, but knocked again anyway, louder this time. It was like raising your voice to someone who didn’t speak English, as if a higher decibel level would help them understand what you were saying.

  The door next to Olivia’s opened and a woman in her late fifties or early sixties came out. She smiled at him, locked her place up and started to walk away. When he rapped again, she stopped and came over.

  “Are you looking for Olivia?”

  “Yes. I’m her boss. Brady O’Keefe.”

  “Oh, yes. I’ve heard about you. She said you were nice-looking, but that doesn’t do you justice. You remind me of that actor from the movie Magic Mike.”

  “I don’t think I know that one.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s about male dancers. They’re all hunky and seriously ripped. I’m old, not dead.” She grinned and held out her hand. “Sally Smith.”

  “Nice to meet you.” So, Olivia had talked about him. That was good, right? “Do you know where she is?”

  If the woman thought his not knowing his assistant’s whereabouts was strange, she didn’t show it. “I don’t know. But I saw her leaving pretty early yesterday morning with a suitcase.”

  “Where was she going?”

  “Not a clue. She just said she was taking a vacation and I wished her a good trip.” Her blue eyes narrowed now. “Is anything wrong?”

  “No.” Not a complete lie. There wasn’t any one thing wrong, it was everything.

  “Shouldn’t she have told you she was taking a vacation?”

  “She probably did.” He tried to look as though this was business as usual and hoped he pulled it off. “I have a tendency to tune out everything around me when I’m focused on work.”

  “Olivia told me that, too. And focus is good.” Now there was censure in her voice. “But sometimes you need to stop and smell the coffee.”

  He’d said something like that to Olivia. “I thought it was roses.”

  “That, too. Just saying...” She looked at her watch. “I really need to go. An appointment.”

  “Thanks for your help. It was nice to meet you, Sally.”

  “Same here. I hope you and Olivia work out your problems.”

  So much for business as usual.

  Brady stood and watched Sally get into her car and drive away. What could he do now? He still needed to talk to Olivia and decided to call her cell again. Again she didn’t pick up and he left a message to call.

  The next logical step was to see her family. Surely she’d let them know where she’d gone. But it wasn’t even noon yet and they worked. Since there wasn’t anything he could do right this minute, he went back to the house and tried to accomplish something.

  Six hours later he’d done nothing but wear a path in his office carpet and crush the hell out of his orange rubber stress ball.

  When the clock said five, he breathed a sigh of relief. Surely someone would be home at the Lawsons’ now, since her mother taught at Blackwater Lake Elementary. Again he got in the car and this time went to the neighborhood where he and Olivia had grown up.

  There was a car in her parents’ driveway and he was pretty sure it belonged to Ann Lawson. He parked at the curb and walked up to the door.

  Brady lifted his hand to knock, but it opened before he could and his mother was there with Olivia’s mom.

  “Brady?” Maureen O’Keefe was obviously surprised. “What are you doing here?”

  Just like that, everything went from bad to worse. Getting information from Olivia’s mom was an acceptable risk, but his own mother involved in this meant he’d get more than he signed up for. But there was no bluffing his way out of anything now, and he was anxious for answers.

  “I came to talk to Mrs. Lawson. Hi,” he said to Ann.

  “It’s nice to see you, Brady. Come in, sweetheart. Your mother was just leaving.”

 
“Not anymore.” Maureen backed up so he could come inside. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you go straight to the bad place?”

  “Hmm. I’m your mother and I don’t think I’ve ever heard that tone from you before. So I rest my case about something being wrong. You drop by to see me now and then, but never the Lawsons. Clearly something’s wrong, and my guess is that it involves Olivia.” When he opened his mouth to protest, she held up her hand. “Don’t even bother denying the obvious.”

  The three of them stood in the entryway on the dark wood floor. A brass chandelier was suspended from the two-story ceiling and a stairway with white spindles was on his right.

  Brady dragged his fingers through his hair. “Okay. I should know better than to try and bluff with you.”

  “Darn right.” Maureen nodded emphatically. “It didn’t work when you were ten and you’re not any better at it now. And I guessed that something happened with you and Olivia, because she left on vacation suddenly and wouldn’t say where she was going.”

  “You don’t know where she is?” He looked at Ann.

  “She only said she’d be out of town for a while.”

  “How long?” What he wanted to ask was how long until he could see her, talk to her.

  “I couldn’t get her to tell me.” Ann held up a hand when he opened his mouth to ask more. “And she refused to say where she was going.”

  That would have been his next question. Instead he asked, “How could she not tell her parents?”

  “She said you’d probably come by and give us the third degree. Don’t be offended. She also said you have a way of charming things out of people.”

  “He is persuasive,” his mom said. “And charming. Just like his father.”

  His patience was so thin he expected it to snap any second. And this wasn’t a good time to remind him his father was gone and that his mother still missed him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Just that the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.” Maureen smiled, some mysterious thing that only she understood.

  Ann looked sincerely sorry for him. “Livvie said if we don’t know where she is, we can’t spill the beans. No matter how persuasive you are.”

  “If you knew, would you tell me?”

  “Probably not.” She slid her friend a sorry-’bout-that look. “My daughter is the most levelheaded woman I know. If she doesn’t want you to know where she is, I’m positive there’s a good reason for that. Even though she won’t say what it is.” She sighed. “Brady, I love you like a son and would help you if I could. But I wouldn’t ever betray Livvie, tempted as I might be. It’s a conflict so I’m glad I don’t know anything.”

  “I understand.” He slid his fingers into his jeans pockets as he met the other woman’s gaze. He really didn’t like Olivia out there alone, where he couldn’t protect her. He couldn’t stand it if anything happened to her. “She’s all right, isn’t she?”

  “Yes. And she promised to check in with her dad or me every day.”

  “Good.” That was something, anyway. “Will you ask her to call me?”

  “Of course. But I can’t guarantee that she will.”

  “I know. Just tell her—” What? That he missed her? He was sorry? He’d make it right? How could he do that? “Tell her I’m thinking about her.”

  Ann smiled. “I will, Brady. It’s good to see you.”

  “Same here.”

  “But you look like hell,” Maureen said.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said cheerfully. “Come on. We need to go and let Ann relax after a long day at school.”

  It had been a hell of a day and he was more tired than after a full day when he’d actually worked. “You’re right. Bye, Mrs. Lawson.”

  “Have a good evening, you two,” the other woman said.

  When the door closed behind them, his mother slid her arm through his. “You’re here. It’s almost dinnertime. I always make too much. You should stay and eat. What do you think, sweetie?”

  “I wouldn’t be very good company.”

  “That’s okay. You might want to talk and I’m happy to listen. What’s family for?”

  “I don’t think so, Ma. But thanks.”

  “Okay. I know not to push.”

  “Since when?” Her look of mock indignation made him smile, the first and only one all day. And that wasn’t normal. Every day with Olivia was filled with teasing and laughter. “It’s a good offer, but I’ll pass. Thanks anyway.”

  “Okay, honey.” She stood on tiptoe and hugged him hard. “I love you very much.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Brady watched her walk safely into the house, then slid into his car. And sat there motionless. For a man who’d always known what he wanted, this was the first time in his life he didn’t know what to do, where to go.

  He only knew that he couldn’t stand to go back to his house without Olivia there.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Brady drove straight to his sister’s house. He stood on the front porch, wondering how she’d managed to keep going after her husband died. The grief had been shattering and was always there in her eyes, yet she’d somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other even though the most important person in her life was no longer there. He hadn’t seen Olivia for only two days and he missed her like crazy.

  He knocked on the door and prepared to wait because Maggie might be busy with the baby. But in moments she was standing there with the little girl braced on one hip.

  “Hi, bro. Come on in.”

  “Hey. Sorry to drop in unannounced—”

  “About that...Mom called.”

  “What did she tell you?” he asked.

  “Everything. Olivia’s gone and didn’t tell you. Her whereabouts are unknown. True?”

  “Yeah.”

  Maggie smiled sympathetically. “Get in here, Brady.”

  “Ba-ay!” Danielle held out her arms as she always did.

  Brady was happy to take her and grabbed his niece from his sister, then snuggled her close. “That’s the best thing that’s happened to me all day.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am.” Then Maggie shook her head disapprovingly. “But you brought this on yourself.”

  The little girl in his arms was running her hands over the scruff of whiskers on his face, then looked at her palms questioningly.

  “Excuse me,” he said. “I could have sworn you just said this is my fault.”

  “It is.”

  “How do you figure that? You’re the one who helped her pull off a lie.”

  “And I’d do it again.” His sister crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Did we have the same parents?” Brady asked. When his niece squirmed and pressed her tiny, chubby hands against his chest, he set her gently on the colorful braided rug in the living room. Instantly she sat and picked up a stuffed doll from underneath the coffee table. “Because my mother and father taught me that it was wrong to deceive someone.”

  “Sometimes you have to do the wrong thing for the right reason.” She nodded her head sagely.

  “Now you sound like Confucius. Or Yoda.”

  “My parents taught me not to call people names.”

  “Don’t throw my words back at me.” He was in no mood for anything other than a straightforward answer. “I’m your own flesh and blood. Why would you encourage Olivia to lie to me?”

  “Because you needed a good shaking up.”

  “What?” He stared at her. “Why would you say that? I was just fine, thank you very much.”

  “I’ll give you an answer, but first I have a question.” Before waiting for the okay, she said, “What happened between you and Olivia?”
r />   “Nothing.” The word nearly stuck in his throat and he couldn’t quite meet his sister’s inquiring gaze.

  “Now you’re lying.” She turned away. “Do you want a beer or a glass of wine?”

  “Wait a minute.” He followed her toward the kitchen. “First you call me a liar and now you’re being nice?”

  “Of course.” She smiled wickedly. “What are little sisters for? Try to keep up.”

  “Beer.” He shook his head to clear it.

  “Okay, then.” She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a longneck amber bottle, then handed it to him to twist off the top.

  Danielle toddled into the room after them and held out the soft, cuddly doll. “Ba-ay?”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” He took it from her and stared at the well-used toy. “This is the kind of woman I can handle. Does what you tell her. Never lies about a boyfriend. Always there when you need her.” His niece held up her arms and was moving her fingers in a way that meant give me back my doll. “Easy come, easy go,” he said, holding it out for her.

  Maggie had poured herself a glass of red wine. “I have chicken in the oven. Want to stay for dinner?”

  “Really? You’d feed your brother, a name-calling, lie-telling weasel who needs a shaking up?”

  “Yes,” she said empathetically. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “You got that right. And thanks. I’d like that.”

  She glanced at the timer on the stove. “I just put it in, so we won’t be eating for a while.” There was an evil gleam in her eyes. “That will give us a chance to talk.”

  She breezed past him and he looked heavenward because divine intervention for this conversation would be incredibly helpful. He followed his niece back into the living room, where she plopped herself on the floor and happily chattered away in a language no one else, with the possible exception of her mother, could understand.

  When Maggie was settled in her chair, he sat at a right angle to her on the couch. “Okay, Brady, tell me what you did.”