Full Disclosure (No Secrets Book 1)

by Julie Olsen

As I sat deliberating, my phone buzzed. It was a Weaver friend request from Bella Ruggieri. Bella? Why would she want to friend me? A sense of foreboding settled deep in my belly as I clicked open Weaver. I should just delete it. We were not friends, after all. My finger paused over the delete button. She was so familiar with Damien, though. I flashed on the memory of her hands all over him.

  I let curiosity get the better of me and opened her profile. A photo posted today greeted me. It was Damien and Bella posing in a park, the Chicago skyline behind them. On Damien’s shoulders was a little boy holding an Easter basket. Bella leaned into Damien as the three of them laughed for the camera. Anybody seeing them would think they were the perfect happy little family.

  Jealousy knifed sharp in my chest. This photo was obviously taken today, of that there could be no doubt. Which meant Bella and her son accompanied Damien to Chicago. Damien sure as hell hadn’t informed me of his travelling companions, but Bella wasted no time in making sure I knew.

  I reminded myself that I could smell Bella’s intentions from the moment we met. The knowledge that I possessed spot-on Spidey sense did nothing to assuage the hurt I was feeling.

  Had he purposely kept me in the dark about his plans? Surely, after the time we had spent together‌—‌and his supposedly honest entreaties that he wanted to spend more time with me‌—‌I deserved to have been told. And why would he ask me to go with him, when Bella and her son would have been there, too? As soon as I had seen them together, I knew Bella would be trouble for us. Or was it only trouble for me? Perhaps this was business as usual for Damien.

  My heart told me this was either a misunderstanding or vindictiveness on Bella’s part. Maybe she assumed Damien would have explained to me the details of his trip. Maybe she was trying to stir up trouble. Or just maybe, she didn’t think my feelings mattered one way or the other, because she knew Damien wouldn’t keep me around long enough for this to be an issue.

  But it was my jealousy-fueled anger that stoked the flame of uncertainty. Clicking out of the app, I stood and paced the kitchen. The walls began to close in, and I concentrated on my breathing, like I had learned in therapy.

  “She is a friend, one of my closest. I’ve known her since I was sixteen. She’s like family.”

  Taking a deep breath, I thumbed through my contacts for Damien’s cell. I pressed the call button.

  Instead of ringing, it went straight to voice mail. His deep voice sent shivers through me. Gripping the phone, I pushed away the unease growing in my belly and left a message: “Hi. It’s Olivia. I know you’re probably busy, but I need to speak to you. It’s important.”

  CHAPTER 15

  At seven thirty I was drizzling extra-virgin olive oil on the asparagus spears when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Lucy called from the dining room where she was setting the table. She and James had arrived fifteen minutes earlier and were relating a story about his twelve-year-old nephew’s amazing skills with a Rubik’s cube.

  “So you mix it all up, and he solves it in‌—‌”

  “Forty-two seconds,” James said proudly. “The kid is amazing.”

  “I can’t even do one side, let alone six,” I said with a frown.

  “He says it’s all in the algorithms.”

  “The algo-what?”

  “The set of moves it takes to‌—‌”

  “I’ll take your word for it, James,” I interrupted, holding up my palm. James just grinned, knowing full well my low tolerance of all things mathematical. Math, like mechanical things, tended to put me to sleep, whereas James was one of those people who understood a lot about just about everything, and liked to discuss it ad nauseam.

  “I brought wine,” Justine sang as she entered the kitchen with Lucy trailing just behind her.

  “Ooh, lovely. Let’s open it,” Lucy chimed in, grabbing glasses out of the cupboard and the electric wine opener from its charging stand on the counter.

  “Everything smells good, Liv. Anything I can do?” Justine asked.

  “The dishes,” I replied, as I slid the asparagus into the oven to roast.

  “Dishes!” Justine wined. “But I brought the wine. I bet Boone shows up empty-handed. Make him do the dishes. “

  “Are you nuts?” Lucy and I both exclaimed together, aware of Boone’s lack of caution in the kitchen. Everything not plastic or metal would be shattered before you could say Mom’s good china.

  “Jinx, you owe me a soda,” Lucy said in a rush, laughing. “Scratch that, make it wine. James, make yourself useful. Thirsty girls, here,” Lucy said bossily, handing him the wine opener.

  “Yes, ma’am,” James retorted with mock indignation. “Useful is my middle name.” He set about opening the wine.

  “I thought it was stud?” Justine teased.

  James winked. “You’re right. Although technically, it’s stud muffin. But stud works, too.”

  “Pfft,” Lucy scoffed, handing him her wine glass. “Just fill my glass, studmuffin.”

  “Oh gag,” Justine groaned. “Liv, promise me you and Damien won’t turn all cutesy.”

  “Justine!” I leveled caustic eyes on my best friend. “What did we discuss that you agreed to?”

  “Oops.” She bit her index finger coyly. “You mean I can’t talk to James either? But Lucy tells him everything. Don’t you, Luce?”

  Lucy took a long sip of wine, looking pointedly at the ceiling.

  I huffed as James handed me a glass of red, grinning.

  “It’s fine with me. I frankly don’t need to know the blow-by-blow details about Liv’s sleepover,” James said, holding his palms up.

  Justine barked out a laugh. “Blow-by-blow. Oh, good one, studmuffin.” She and Lucy fell into hysterics as I stood and stewed.

  I had been trying to occupy myself with tasks to keep my mind off the fact that Damien and Bella were together in Chicago, either a fact he hadn’t found necessary to inform me of, or a bona fide tryst between the two of them he had purposefully kept away from me.

  In between frosting the cake and preparing dinner, I went on a tear through my house‌—‌sweeping, scrubbing, mopping, dusting and vacuuming until my hands were raw and my back ached. And still he hadn’t returned my call, not even a quick text to let me know he had arrived safely.

  I had hoped that having Lucy, Justine, James and Boone around would distract me from my dark thoughts, but they kept dropping his name, twisting the knife. It wasn’t their fault, they didn’t know the turmoil I had been going through, and for now I wanted to keep it that way.

  After several hours of furtive looks at my phone for missed calls or texts and finding none, I had defiantly switched both my cell and the house phone off. Once he was finished with Bella, he would find I wasn’t at his beck and call. That was if he even tried calling me. This is what you get. Next time, keep your legs closed.

  Next time? There won’t be a next time. Not for me. A dark gloom enveloped me at the thought.

  Distantly, I noticed the laughing had ceased, and I snapped myself back from my depressing fog to see three sets of concerned eyes staring at me.

  “What’s going on, Liv?”

  I shook my head, trying to disguise my aching heart behind the mask I had become so adept at wearing. “What do you mean? Nothing’s going on.”

  Apparently, my disguise fooled no one. They all continue staring at me with I’m-on-to-you looks on their faces.

  “Fine.” I bent to check on the asparagus before turning toward them. “Whatever last night was, it’s not happening again.”

  “What?” Lucy blurted. She and Justine looked like they had gotten coal in their Christmas stocking, while James did a good job of remaining impassive. Guys couldn’t handle emotional stuff. Neither could I, apparently.

  “Look, it’s not a big deal. I just don’t want to get tangled up in a lot of hoopla. He’s a nice guy, but, well, you know my track record. It’s best if I walk away now.”


  “Are you high?” Justine squeaked.

  I crossed my arms. “Look, he’s wildly successful, beyond wealthy. He looks like he just stepped off the pages of GQ. You saw him. He’s got the swagger, Just. The swagger. Men like him, they’re players.” My façade slipping, I clamped my mouth shut to prevent my lips from trembling.

  The girls narrowed their eyes at me, nodding their heads and sizing me up.

  “Don’t look at me like that!”

  “You’re scared,” Lucy observed softly. “And hurt?”

  Am I that transparent? Lucy’s psychic abilities never ceased to amaze me.

  “Of course I’m scared. But I’m also realistic.”

  “Has he given you any indication he’s going to play you?” Justine asked.

  “Besides taking me to a restaurant owned by a woman he’s known for years and who, coincidently, couldn’t keep her hands off him?” I decided to keep the rest of the sordid story to myself, unable to handle the can of worms it would open.

  They both frowned. James sipped his wine, saying nothing.

  “Well, that’s a bit odd,” Lucy said, pursing her lips.

  Justine shook her head. “Did you call him on it?”

  “Of course I did. He said it was nothing. And apologized.”

  “Well, then, that’s something.” The growling of a large motorcycle approaching became an unmistakable signal that the conversation was over, for now at least. “We’ll talk more later,” Justine nodded, something akin to bossiness in her voice. Not Justine, too! Did I have a sign on my back that said, Go ahead and order me around.

  I heard the back door open as I took the chicken, potatoes and asparagus out of the oven.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Boone called as he entered the kitchen. He was in his customary black leather jacket and held his helmet in one hand and a plastic grocery bag in the other, a wide grin carving dimples in his handsome face.

  “Boone, how’s it going, man?” James rose from his seat and did a complicated guy handshake with the latecomer.

  “Couldn’t be better. How ‘bout you?”

  After the customary greetings and cheek kissing, Boone shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair.

  “Brought you something, Liv,” he said, producing a bouquet of white daisies and yellow daffodils from the grocery bag, looking none the worse for wear after their ride on Boone’s Harley.

  “Wow, Boone. This is a first,” Lucy gibed. I shot her a be nice look as I attempted to reach into the cabinet above the fridge for a vase. Boone wasted no time coming to my aid.

  “Thanks, Boone. This is really sweet of you.” I smiled as he handed the vase to me.

  “Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “I’m cool like that.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes behind his back. She had never been on the Boone bandwagon, but she normally cut him some slack. He could be a bit full of himself, but those of us who knew him understood it was just a show, and that underneath he was a warm and snuggly teddy bear. With lots of muscles.

  “Well, you’re just in time. Who’s hungry?”

  Within a few minutes everything was on platters, and we all pitched in to carry the dishes and food to the dining table.

  “Now those are some flowers,” Boone drawled.

  Damn. Earlier, I had moved the bike into my room, out of sight of prying eyes, but then got pre-occupied with other things and forgot to do the same with the massive rose bouquet.

  “Yeah…‌um,” I stalled.

  “They are, aren’t they?” Lucy nodded. “Here, why don’t I put them away so we have room at the table for all the platters? Liv, everything smells so good.”

  Lucy removed my roses, smiling slyly at me when she was sure Boone wasn’t looking. Her mastery of distraction had paid off again, as Boone seated himself and immediately began filling us in on his date last night.

  Crisis averted.

  * * *

  Talk at the table revolved mostly around everyone’s respective days. The easygoing banter and free-flowing wine helped pull me out of my funk. Justine’s two bottles were but a mere tasting, and it wasn’t long before we were into our emergency stockpile.

  “I’m gonna have to do extra reps all week, but it’s worth it,” Boone gushed, cutting into his second piece of German chocolate cake.

  “Which reminds me, nobody leaves until the food is gone, especially the cake,” I announced as Justine dribbled more wine into my empty glass.

  “What about when the wine is gone?” Justine mused. “Hate to tell you, but that’s the last of it.”

  “No more wine?” I shrieked.

  “And I doubt any stores are open. Or Paramour, for that matter,” James added.

  “Well, we will just get into the vodka, then.” Ha. I was so clever. I took a long slug and suppressed the need to burp.

  “No vodka!” Lucy called from the kitchen. “There’s only rum. And limes.”

  “Mojitos!” Justine trilled as she carted a stack of dirty dishes back to the kitchen.

  “Make a pitcher, Luce!” I caught a wisp of a memory about having to get up early tomorrow to do Weldon’s job as well as mine and purposefully ignored it.

  “Count me out, ladies,” Boone said as he laid his fork down. “Bikes and booze, not a good mix.”

  “Party pooper.” I stuck my tongue out at him and lifted my glass to my lips. It was empty. I pursed my lips. Where was my mojito?

  James stood and began loading his arms with dishes. He had worked as a waiter for years and knew the tricks to carrying the most plates without catastrophe. “I’m out, too. Those papers aren’t going to grade themselves.”

  “You guys are so boring.” I crumpled my nose in disgust.

  James chuckled on his way to the kitchen. “We may be boring, but we won’t be waking up with a pounding head.”

  I wanted to scoff, but that part of me that was wise and intelligent even under slight intoxication knew he was right. I settled on ignoring her, too.

  “So, how’s it going with Weldon’s sugar mama?” Boone was leaning back in his chair across from me with his hands behind his head. The position threw his muscular shoulders and chest into sharp distinction. I had no doubt he was aware of the effect. The show-off!

  “Good, except I hate her.”

  “I saw her on the news the other night. Some A-lister’s event at the Chase Park Plaza.”

  “Bet you could see right up her nostrils, huh?” With my hand I swept some crumbs into a pile on the tablecloth. Lucy, Justine and James were in the kitchen doing the dishes. Lovely friends!

  “Impeccable posture, that woman. Back straight as a ramrod,” Boone stared off in the distance. “I still think I’ve got what she needs.” His lips curled into a naughty grin.

  “Eeeh, don’t do that, Boone! That’s a mental image I can’t un-see.”

  Laughing mischievously, he rocked on his chair. “Apparently, it was a kickoff for a new line of pre-mixed martinis she’s selling. The party, that is. Doesn’t she also have a bunch of stores for girly clothes?”

  I couldn’t help but smile at his choice of wording. “Yeah. A national line of boutiques. Cute stuff, but not in my budget.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Guess that’s what Daddy’s money gets you.”

  I blinked, bemused at this tidbit of gossip. “I thought her husband was her money tree?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. She comes from money. Big money.”

  “But her husband owns Bainbridge Pritchard?”

  He snorted. “That guy? Evan, Ira…”

  “Ivan,” I added, helpfully.

  “Ivan. Yeah. Everyone knows he’s just a…‌what do you call it? A beard.”

  “A what?”

  “A beard. A cover.”

  I cocked my head at him. “A cover? For what?”

  Boone brought his chair down flat on the floor and leaned forward. “Okay, so Miss Hoity-Toity�
��s dad owned that company until he died about fifteen years ago. Don’t you read the papers?”

  I shook my head. “Not the same ones you do, obviously.”

  He arched both brows. “Okay, so listen up. Weldon’s sugar mama has an uncle, some loser dude. Lives over in Europe off the family dime. Takes no interest in the family business. But anyway, daddy needed someone to take over the company. Loser dude wasn’t on the short list, but Ivan had been his right-hand man for years. You following me?”

  I nod, amazed at Boone’s knowledge of St. Louis high society gossip.

  “So daddy knew he was on his way out. The big C. Ivan was single and by all accounts, he’s a yes man. Daddy wanted to keep the business in the family, but his only kid, Angelique, our own Ms. Ramrod, had never married and had no prospects since it’s well known she prefers the ladies.” At this salacious nugget, he paused for effect. I was sure my eyes were bugging. I had no idea.

  “So daddy makes a deal. His princess marries Ivan, they produce children to extend the family line, the company stays in the family, Princess keeps her fortune. Everybody is happy. The end.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  He nodded. “It’s the gospel.”

  “Why didn’t Angelique just take over the business?”

  He shrugged. “Apparently daddy didn’t believe girls belonged in the workplace except as secretaries.”

  “That’s messed up.” I suddenly had a new appreciation for the woman who, until a few minutes ago, I had assumed was just another rich snob.

  Boone nodded, tilting his chair back on two legs again.

  “So she’s married to Ivan, who runs her father’s company, but the marriage is just for show?”

  “Pretty much. They do have a kid. And now she’s got her own empire to run, built with daddy’s money but hers nonetheless. Guess she showed daddy.” He grinned.

  “Well, I had no idea. Boone, you’re not just another pretty face. You know stuff.”

  Justine, Lucy and James emerged from the kitchen. James had his jacket on, indicating his eminent departure. Lucy was carrying a pitcher of mojitos and three glasses.

  Boone grinned broadly. “I try.” Pushing his chair out, he unfolded his muscular frame and stood. I had to tilt my head back to see his face. “Thanks for dinner, Liv. It was killer.”