by Emerson Rose
“I hadn’t thought about it. You’re throwing a lot of things at me at once, you know.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I am, I apologize.”
What would my mother think if I showed up with a filthy rich lawyer after all the years I spent complaining about guys just like him?
“Why don’t we wait a while? We have a lot on our plates right now.”
“Olivia Johnson, are you ashamed of me?”
I jerk my head back and look at him as if he’s crazy. “Ashamed? Why would I be ashamed of you? You’re the perfect male specimen, you’re filthy rich and successful, there’s not a single thing to be ashamed of.”
“Then why the wait?”
“You like being in a hurry, don’t you?”
“Only when it comes to you.”
“It’s not you. My mother’s disease has left her very disabled. She was a proud, independent woman when I was young. She hates it when people pity her.”
“I know how to mind my manners, Olivia.”
“Okay, I’m going to be honest with you.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He stops eating, resting his knife on the edge of his plate and offering Faye a bite of something mushy and gray.
“I’ve had a problem with rich people, men like you, in particular, all my life. I’ve complained nonstop about how arrogant and self-centered the privileged are. If I waltz into my mother’s nursing home on your arm, she’s going to think something’s up.”
His forehead wrinkles in a frown. “Something like what?”
“I don’t know, she might suspect I’ve gotten myself into financial trouble for instance. And dating you is how I’m solving a problem. There are a million things she could come up with, believe me. She’s never going to accept our love-at-first-sight story.”
“Why not? It’s the truth. And if she doesn’t, then ten years from now when we are happily married, she will have to.”
I groan and sit back in my chair. He doesn’t understand.
“Your hate for wealthy people, it doesn’t extend to me, does it?”
“Of course not.”
“Then tell your mother you’ve changed. People change, right?”
“I don’t think most people change their core values like that.”
“Core value? A distaste for the rich is a core value?”
“I’m not proud of it, but yes.”
“All right, we will wait to talk to your mother, but when we do, I want you to tell her how long we have been together, so she doesn’t suspect something strange is happening between us.”
I like that idea. “Okay.”
“I wanted to talk to you about the funeral tomorrow,” he says handing Faye a sippy cup.
“What’s to talk about?”
“I’d like you to come with us.”
“Oh, no, I think that’s a really bad idea, Alex. The press will be there, and I never knew Lilly.”
“I’m going to need some help with the baby.”
“Can’t Greta go with you?”
“I don’t want my cook by my side, I want you.”
“I’m too controversial.”
“I will be the judge of that.”
“What if I don’t want to go?”
“I need you, Olivia.” Damn him for saying that. It’s like he knows it’s the one thing that can sway me in his direction.
“Mr. Wolfe,” Greta says from the door that leads into the kitchen.
“Yes, Greta, what is it? I’m in the middle of dinner with my family.”
“There’s something you should see.” She looks pale, and her mouth is turned down in an unfamiliar frown.
“In the middle of dinner?” he asks irritated she would even suggest such an interruption.
“Yes, sir.”
He sighs deeply and looks at me. “Would you mind?”
“No, of course not.” I watch him as he stands and folds his napkin to lay it on the table next to his plate so as not to lose it. Always prepared.
I help Faye with her food until Alex returns. His expression is tight, and his cheeks are flushed with anger. “What’s wrong?”
“The press got hold of Lilly’s story, and they’re making a mess of it.”
He sits down and pushes his plate away from him clanking it against his glass. Faye jumps, and her lip pops out in a pout. “It’s okay, honey,” I say rubbing her chubby arm, but it’s too late. She begins to cry, and Alex lifts her out bouncing her in his arms calming the storm before it hits full force.
“What kind of mess?”
“The kind where I’m a villain, you’re a homewrecker, and Lilly is the victim.”
“Oh my God.”
“It’s all over the news, and I’m sure it’ll be the headline of every magazine tomorrow just in time for her funeral.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing, there isn’t anything I can do about the coverage now. I will, however, find out where the fucking leak came from, though. No one but Lilly’s family and you and Jacob know about Faye. You don’t think Jacob would…”
“No, absolutely not. He would never talk to the media about someone else’s business.”
“Lilly’s family didn’t want anyone to know how she died. They would have protected that information no matter how much they hate me.”
“So how?”
“Someone who works for me must have done it. I can’t think of another way.”
“I thought you trusted your employees explicitly.” I wring my linen napkin in my lap wishing now more than ever that Lilly would have let nature take its course and spent more time with Faye before she died.
“It’s the only way.”
“What are they saying specifically?”
He walks to the window with Faye keeping his back to me. “They’re saying that Lilly and I were trying to rekindle our relationship for the sake of Faye, but you intruded, and she commit suicide when she felt threatened.” He tells the tabloid’s story with such a blunted affect that it makes me shiver.
“But that’s not what happened. Can’t you make some kind of statement? That’s slander, right? You’re a lawyer, they won’t get away with this, will they?”
“Oh, I assure you whoever did this will be found and given justice, and I will sue every single member of the press who prints this bullshit. But the fact still remains that Lilly’s funeral is tomorrow, and the press will be there to stir the pot.”
“Don’t go. Can’t you have Faye’s grandparents take her?”
“No, absolutely not. Those people weren’t fit to raise Lilly, and I’ll be damned if I give them an opportunity to kidnap Faye.”
“You think they’d do that?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past them.”
I want to ask why he feels that way, but there are so many other things spinning around in my head right now that I can’t focus on just one. The world is painting me as some monster homewrecker. The thought of it makes me feel like vomiting. I have always taken every precaution to steer clear of married men or men in relationships. I don’t need that kind of drama in my world.
And knowing that my father was a weak, cheating bastard who walked out on his wife for having MS right into the arms of another woman, well, let’s just say I have a low opinion of cheaters, even lower than rich, arrogant men. And that’s low.
My mother, my poor mother watches the news religiously since she isn’t able to do much else anymore. She’s going to see this. Oh no, she’s probably already seen this. I jump up from the table and rush for the door. “I’ll be right back,” I say leaving Alex and Faye at the window.
“Olivia, wait,” he calls, but I don’t stop. My bare feet slap on the marble floors of the foyer before I take the stairs two at a time with my long legs. I dial my mom, and her personal nurse picks up. “Sara’s room, this is Marla,” she says.
“Sara, this is Olivia, what’s my mother doing?” I ask moving into the bedroom Alex designated as mi
ne although I’ve never spent a moment in it.
“Oh, hello, Olivia, it’s so good to hear…”
“Sara, I’m sorry to interrupt, but is she watching the news?”
“Oh, well uh, no she’s not feeling well today, and she’s lying down. Do you want me to turn it on for her and wake her up?”
“Oh God no! Please, whatever you do for the next few days, don’t let her watch TV, especially the news. And if anyone says anything about me to her, please just tell her it’s all lies.”
“Ms. Johnson, that sounds like an awful lotta lying, what’s happening?”
“I met a man, and he’s wealthy. The press is making up lies about us and a past relationship of his. It’s really bad, and I don’t want her to think I would do anything they’re saying.”
“Oh gurl, that’s why you’re always talking about stayin away from the rich folks. How’d you go and get mixed up in all that?”
“Oh, Sara, I wish I knew. Will you help me?”
“Yeah, if you promise to come and see her soon like next weekend soon.”
“Yes, yes, anything. I miss her, I didn’t stay long enough at Christmas, I know, and I feel bad about it.” I sit down on a wingback chair near a window that looks out over the front grounds.
“She’s not too long for this place, Livy. She needs her daughter around more often.”
My heart clenches in my chest. I’ve been so busy this holiday season I haven’t been to see my mom since Christmas, and that was only for a couple of hours because I had to drive back to Seattle to work.
I’ve always known my mother won’t live a long life. I think that’s the problem. I’ve known it since I was six years old, and none of it seems real. She was tired and often weak, but she was always beautiful and looked healthy to those who didn’t know. No one could believe that she required so much one-on-one attention. She hid her disability well until she couldn’t.
“I promise I’ll be there to see her as soon as I can. I have to get this situation taken care of first, and then I’ll come.”
“Okay honey, stay in touch.”
“I will, and thank you again.”
The line goes dead, and I can feel Alex standing behind me, his presence is magnetic, and the lack of sound means he doesn’t have the baby with him. There I go again, abandoning my little charge.
“Is your mother all right?” he asks not advancing into the room but keeping his distance.
“She’s not feeling well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s a blessing, don’t be. She watches television nonstop. It’s one of the only things left she can do, and she especially watches the news. She hasn’t seen it yet. I’d like to think she won’t, but nursing home gossip is worse than the tabloids.”
“I’m sorry, Olivia. Since the day I met you, it’s been one crazy problem after another. If I weren’t so sure about us, I’d think someone was trying to tell us something. Something I don’t want to hear.”
I can’t say I haven’t thought the same thing. From that first morning, we’ve been dealing with crap most couples never have to deal with in their entire lives together. Alex isn’t a quitter, and he isn’t a runner like me. That’s why I hope he will understand when I leave because I can already feel it building inside me. The urge to flee, to escape and run away from this mountain of problems that have been created so quickly is becoming overwhelming.
“It’s not your fault.” I lean forward to place my elbows on my knees and push my fingers through my hair holding on tight when they are fully tangled there. “But it doesn’t change the fact that my bland and boring businesswoman reputation has been smashed to smithereens. I know you’re dealing with your reputation, too, but I can’t afford to lose the customers I’m going to lose because of this. My clientele is made up of upstanding, family people, married couples with pets they treat like children, and older people who need companionship and a place to spend their money before they die. I’m pretty sure none of them want to buy their gourmet dog biscuits from a gold-digging homewrecker.”
“Let me handle that. I’ve already got damage control on the case. They won’t get away with this.”
“Alex, I appreciate that you’re trying, but once people get something in their head, it’s stuck there. Nobody will ever know for sure if OJ Simpson really murdered Nicole, it’s trial by media. The news says it’s true, and the world sits in front of their TVs at home eating their frozen pizza believing it.”
“I may not be a criminal lawyer, but I have many in my practice. We will have the best representation available. I will not allow your customers to think negatively about you or your business.”
As much as he would like to believe that, he knows it’s not possible. People are probably already searching for a new gourmet dog treat shop to frequent after watching the news.
The news. I shouldn’t watch it. I should just leave it alone and let Alex handle what he can and accept what we cannot change. But I need to know what they are saying about me, even if it’s untrue and painful. I want to know what I’m up against.
I sit up and give Alex my best smile under the circumstances. “Thank you. Where’s Faye?”
“Greta has her.”
“I think Greta would make an awesome nanny.”
“Stop. I know things are hectic, but you’re not getting out of our arrangement. You’re her nanny.”
“I haven’t taken care of her for more than a couple of hours.”
“That’s because you had to get your business in line. Now that Kevin is watching things, you’ll have plenty of time for Faye.”
Every muscle in my body locks up when he speaks Kevin’s name. I told him about Faye and Alex’s situation this afternoon. Alex said I could trust him with anything.
“Olivia, what’s wrong? You look ill.”
I snap myself from my thoughts and scramble to decide if I should tell him about my suspicions or not. I don’t know what he’s capable of. What will he do to Kevin?
One thing’s for sure, there will be no one to run my shop, and I will have to go back to work. This could be both good and bad. It’s good because I want to face my customers with a smile and the truth. It’s bad because Alex needs someone to care for Faye, but there’s always Greta. If I don’t say anything, Kevin will continue to spread lies about us and cause more trouble. I can’t let that happen.
“I may know who the leak is.”
He approaches and sits down on an ottoman in front of me taking my hands. “Who?”
“Today when I was showing Kevin the ropes at the shop, he asked me why I was handing over control of my business. I told him. I thought I could trust him. I’m so sorry Alex. I trusted him, and I told him about Faye and Lilly.”
His gaze lowers to our hands. “Kevin has handled top-secret information for me in the past without a problem. I can’t imagine it’s him, but I’ll look into it.” He looks back up at me. “I could see you were struggling to tell me, thank you for not lying.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m going to my office for a while to try to get ahead of this mess. Greta has Faye so don’t worry about her. Take a hot bath and try to relax. I’ll handle the funeral myself tomorrow. I’ll just make a quick appearance at the service and skip the graveside. We should be fine with some security around us.”
“You have security?”
“Yes, we have people at the firm who help in high-profile cases.”
I’d never thought about that. I guess they would be responsible for their own safety in a high-profile case.
“You’ll be all right here until I’m done?”
I nod, and he kisses my forehead before leaving me alone. When I’m sure he’s gone, I close the door and turn on the TV. The news isn’t on for an hour, but the previews are full of Alex, Lilly, Faye, and me.
I’ve never been on television before. It’s surreal seeing images of myself walking in and out of my bakery and apartment building. I jump up and
sprint to the bathroom to lose the few bites of dinner I was able to eat before we got the news.
This is bad. Nothing is going to fix this, nothing. What I’d give to go back two weeks to before I’d fallen in love with Alex. Back to when I was dull and safe, and the only people who knew my name were my customers, my family, and Jacob.
With wealth comes the public eye, and they bring problems, more than I could have ever imagined. Maybe it’s the need to protect oneself from things like this that makes rich men seem so full of themselves? Maybe I’ve been hating the wrong people all my life? Maybe I should hate the press instead?
Regardless of whose fault this is, I need to separate myself from it. Alex doesn’t need me to nanny when he has Greta. I feel things for Alex that I’ve never felt for anyone, but it’s time to put some distance between us so I can think for myself.
In the walk-in closet, I change into a pair of jeans and a baggy black sweatshirt and put on my Nikes. We haven’t moved my things into the house yet, so I don’t have to take anything with me when I go home.
I text Jacob to tell him I’m coming home, and that we can talk later. I know he’s probably still working his photo shoot, so it’s no surprise when he doesn’t answer.
Leaving the TV on, I go downstairs quietly listening for sounds of Greta playing with Faye or Alex on the phone, but I hear nothing. Outside, I make my way down the driveway through the woods and order an Uber while I walk. It’s cold, and I don’t have a coat on so the ten-minute wait for my car is a great distraction from the problems at hand.
Once I’m in the car warming up, reality hits me hard. I just walked out on the only man I’ve ever loved during one of the most trying times in his life. What kind of person does that?
A runner, a deserter, a coward—I am all of these and more. Alex deserves better than that. He deserves better than me.
22
When I arrive home, I tell the doorman not to let anyone up without notifying me first. Not only do I have to avoid Alex if he decides to follow me, who am I fooling he will follow me, I’m also worried about the press invading my privacy.
Will they come to my door? Will they call for interviews? Will anyone even care what the piece-of-shit homewrecker has to say? Maybe coming here was a bad idea after all?