I gave you what I treasured most—my family, my home, my dreams, my heart—but you rejected them for a dance and a few well-chosen words … and … they weren’t even Jeff’s.
Jeff seemed to know my heart.
Of course he did. Because of me … I gave up MIT to make sure he graduated, and then my friend betrayed me.
Her emotions had been on overload. She processed a word here, a phrase there, doing exactly what Hudson had accused her of—reacting—and doing it badly. The conversation replayed in a loop, and now phrases stuck out. Something cryptic was hidden there.
I gave you my heart …
Jeff seemed to know my heart.
Of course he did. Because of me … empty words … they weren’t even Jeff’s … and then my friend betrayed me…
Did the words Jeff used to captivate Olivia come from Hudson? Her skin prickled as chills zipped up her spine. In her gut, she knew the answer. But how had it happened?
Another piece of conversation came to her from the day of the funeral, when she moved into the beach house.
And don’t worry about my stuff … junk I should have thrown out after college.
She headed for the utility closet to look for clues. Seven boxes were neatly stacked. The top five boxes looked new, most likely the ones he recently packed, while the two on the bottom looked older, dustier, and more scuffed. These were labeled “2006.”
Convinced she had nothing to lose, she moved the newer boxes and dug into the ones from 2006. The first box was filled with random things—photo albums, a photo frame, a scrapbook his mother kept of her only child’s accomplishments, an academic letter sweater, and a few hats from their days at the University of Washington. She began searching through the scrapbooks and albums and was startled when she saw a photo of her and Hudson on the cover of a thin blue book that bore an elaborate graphic representation of its strange title, “The P³.”
The image appeared to be a candid photo taken with a telephoto lens. She knew Hudson’s father had such a camera. The photo captured a moment that didn’t immediately come to mind, catching them in the surf on Cannon Beach, their faces mere inches apart. Hudson’s hand was near her face, brushing or wiping something from her cheek. Her eyes were closed, but it was the expressions on Hudson’s face that captured her attention. Only a fool could have missed it—the captivating blush of first love.
Tightness returned to her chest as she sat on the floor and opened the blue cover to a five-page spread of photos of them together and titled “Beginnings.”
The next two-page spread, titled “Discovering Your Heart,” included photos of Olivia’s favorite things: baggy sweaters, kiwi fruit, boat shoes, yellow tulips, a box of Andes Crème de Menthe, Acqua Di Gio cologne, Colbie Caillat’s song “Realize.” Prickles sprang along her arms and neck.
She opened the book to the next section. With tear-filled eyes, she studied the collage of photos he assembled to illustrate their perfect date. The setting was classic Hudson—dinner on a blanket by the sea, surrounded by gulls, with a bouquet of yellow tulips, and Colbie Caillat playing in the background. Her eyes burned as she read the words printed along the bottom of the page— “Will You Marry Me?” Now she understood. The book actually was Hudson’s perfectly planned proposal. “The P³.” It was how he planned to ask her to marry him. She slammed the book shut. Except for the location, every element of Jeff’s proposal came from Hudson’s book. The morning’s conversation returned.
Jeff seemed to know my heart.
Of course he did. Because of me … and then my friend betrayed me.
She felt sick. Either Hudson had played Cyrano to Jeff’s Christian, or Jeff stole Hudson’s plan before Hudson had a chance. She knew the answer. She had been a silly, naïve fool.
With hands shaking, she reopened the cover and flipped to the final section, titled “Happily Ever After.”
Page one was a copy of the letter finalizing the meeting to sign the contracts for Arena Corp. The date stung her heart. It was the date Jeff swept her off her feet and upset the balance in her world. The day before her wild elopement. What would have happened if the meeting hadn’t been delayed?
The next two pages were a collage of photos Hudson had compiled—images of the beach house, three children and two dogs at play on the beach, and her favorite: his and hers computer stations set up on the porch overlooking the sea. Hudson’s dream for them.
Tears dropped to the cover as she closed the book and reached for the photo. Hudson’s beaming smile took her back to more innocent times when they were juggling schoolwork and the Arena project. She’d seen that radiant joy on his face once since then: in the images of him with the orphans and nuns.
She recognized the two older men in the image as Hudson’s first Arena Corp clients—football coaches from major universities in two different conferences. Memorabilia on the walls indicated that this was taken in the office of Bellingham University’s football coach. She knew that was the planned location of the scheduled contract meeting, and she assumed it was taken the night the contract was signed. But that was after her marriage, when Hudson was supposedly heartsick and suffering. So how could he be beaming?
And then a detail on the coach’s whiteboard caught her attention. The date was written in the corner, and she felt ice run through her veins. June eighteenth! That date was the originally scheduled meeting date. On the night Jeff was supposed to be with Hudson, making the pitch, he had missed the meeting and lured her back to the apartment to work.
It was a lie. All of it was a lie. And she’d bought it.
Something else Hudson said returned to her. We both know he could sell a line. I just never figured it would be to you. And you bought it, on that night of all nights.
The depths of both Jeff’s cunning and her weakness stole the very breath from Olivia. She sat on the floor with her back against the wall, unable to cry any more tears. Hudson had put all the pieces together, but she hadn’t wanted to hear it.
What other secrets had Jeff hidden? She thought of the key, wondering where that would lead.
Chapter Sixteen
She called Susan again, and this time, her former sister-in-law answered the phone. Susan’s friendly tone stiffened once Olivia identified herself. They made it through all the stilted social pleasantries and questions of Olivia’s health before the anticipated awkward pause set in, and then the conversation took an unexpected turn. Susan’s voice softened measurably, and Olivia thought she even heard it catch as she began.
“I-I’ve wanted to call … to apologize for the way I handled things. I was cold to you. Maybe I was still in shock. It’s the only excuse I have. It’s just that Jeff was my brother and my hero, and nothing about your marriage or Jeff’s behavior made any sense to me or my parents. Anyway, I’m sorry for adding to your pain.”
The revelations about Jeff’s lies and his stolen proposal tainted Olivia’s memories of Jeff, but Susan’s memories were unblemished, reminding Olivia of the confident joker, the handsome swaggering jock that made coeds, including her, swoon. What had changed him so completely, so quickly? She hoped the answer was in the safe deposit box.
Susan’s kindness stunned Olivia, who could barely find her voice to reply. “Thank you. It was a hard time for all of us.”
“I’ve started to call you a dozen times, but I was too embarrassed, so I stopped. Could we visit sometime and talk?”
Olivia gushed, “I’d love that.” Then a thought hit her. “But I don’t know where I’m going to be living. I might move closer to Portland after all.”
“So how are you and Hudson getting along?”
Olivia felt her heart clench. “He’s been … wonderful, but I need to make a new life and stand on my own two feet now. It’s time, which brings me to why I called. I need a favor, Susan. Would you help me with something?”
“If I can. What is it?”
“I found a key to a safe deposit box in Jeff’s wallet. Could it be your parents’?”
<
br /> “I had completely forgotten about that. My parents arranged for that box years ago. They moved the summer before I started college, but they kept the safe deposit box and gave Jeff and me keys so we’d have access to the documents we’d need in an emergency—a copy of their will and our birth certificates.”
“Do you know if Jeff ever accessed the box after that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Jeff carried that key with him. There might be something personal in there. Something that could give us answers, but the bank won’t let me open it, Susan. Would you open it for me?”
The silence that followed dashed all of Olivia’s courage. She feared she had pushed too far when Susan broke back in.
“I’m checking my calendar. Work is killing me. It serves me right for being a know-it-all first-year teacher who complained too much. The benefactor of the school has named me the chair of The Pioneer School’s advisory board. I have no life or free time.”
“It sounds like they really trust you.”
“That’s great if I survive all this. So-o-o, I could come into Portland on the third Saturday in October. We could get into that box if we arrive at the bank early. Say, around ten?”
“Sounds perfect,” said Olivia.
Chapter Seventeen
The botched hike to Short Sands Beach set Olivia’s recovery back and slowed her search for a new place to live. Once again, it was Laurel to the rescue. Now that Olivia was willing to relocate to Portland, Laurel felt comfortable offering the Ashburn’s’ finished basement to Olivia with a month-to-month lease. It would give Olivia time to sort out her life.
Pepper hadn’t stopped by since their last chat, and Olivia’s messages about her impending move went unanswered. There had also been no contact from Hudson, and Olivia’s mind went to hurtful places, imagining Hudson finding solace elsewhere, like in Pepper’s willing arms. She was stuck in an emotional crevice, anchored to a bitter past and unable to move forward. Her only peace came from remaining busy, so when she wasn’t on the beach or spending time with Laurel’s family, she was at her computer.
Work was increasingly more satisfying. Ethan had become a true colleague who included her on video conference calls and sent her out to support clients in the U.S. He also began soliciting her input on projects to which she was not even assigned, and then she was summoned to The Bauer Group’s New York headquarters for a meeting.
The excitement and expectation of possibly seeing Hudson flattened as her taxi crawled through the intimidating financial district. She looked down at her functional blue pantsuit and wished she had dared to wear something more sophisticated, at least high heels instead of sensible pumps. Her hand reached back and touched her long, loose hair. She pulled a clip from her purse and quickly fashioned her hair into a twist, but her confidence continued to lag.
She feared she was pretending to be more than she was. Less than a year ago, she was little more than a motel-room hacker, the Cinderella of programmers whose fairy godfather—Hudson—had placed in a dream job far outside her element and one for which she didn’t feel qualified.
The taxi stopped outside a tower whose top five floors housed headquarters for The Bauer Group. Olivia took the elevator to the eighty-seventh floor and when the elevator doors opened, a man greeted her in a familiar, welcoming voice. Olivia recognized Ethan immediately from their teleconferences. “Security notified us you had arrived.” Arms reached in her direction and grasped her shoulders as two air kisses graced her left and right cheeks.
“I feel as if we’re already old friends,” she laughed.
“You arrived just in time. Come with me.”
Ethan guided her past the main reception area, down a hallway that ended in a blue marble wall where an eagle-eyed Latina woman sat at a desk. The impressiveness of the space, and the woman’s instant dislike of her, assured Olivia that this was Hudson’s office, and the woman was Alejandra.
Ethan ushered her to the left, into a glass-walled conference room where eleven people sat around a long mahogany table with their laptops open. “Everyone, this is Olivia. I know you’re all familiar with her work.”
Genuine welcome radiated from each face. Olivia nodded and smiled as everyone introduced themselves. Ethan opened the meeting with a brief synopsis of several upcoming assignments, which included another microbusiness project and a water project Hudson and The Bauer Group had been focused on for the past two years. In Ethan’s words, “Sweet Water” had the potential to change the geopolitical future of parched areas of the world and, therefore, was a top priority for The Bauer Group, the WHO, and the majority of the UN General Assembly.
The name of the project struck Olivia immediately. “Sweet Water” came from Hudson’s great-grandparents’ legacy, the idea that a good man had a duty to provide this basic element of life for his family. Family. Olivia knew that was at the crux of the name. This wasn’t a financial enterprise. This was personal.
After Ethan’s intro, he turned to Olivia. “After reviewing the beautiful job you did with the Syrian refugees’ microbusiness venture, we’re all agreed that we’d like you to head up the new microbusiness project. We’re calling it MBA—MicroBusiness America.” Olivia’s heart sank. She so wanted to be on the Sweet Water project.
By day’s end, three committee members were assigned to her team. After three brainstorming days, individual assignments would be made. Everyone would then go off to work independently, and Olivia would return to New York as needed.
When Ethan closed the meeting, he asked her to stay behind. Olivia used the opportunity to settle the question that nagged at her peace. “Tell me straight, Ethan. Did I earn this opportunity on my own merits, or on Hudson’s recommendation?”
His brow furrowed. “The team reviewed your work and voted you in. Hudson didn’t know I had chosen you for the committee until I told him. And for the record, no one else on the team knows you were Hudson’s colleague at college.”
“Colleague?” She forced a smile. “Is that how he described me?”
“And that you are a wizard of design. And he was right, but then again, the boss has always had a knack for hiring the best talent.” He breathed on his fingernails and polished them against his shirt. “I wish you’d consider moving here. There is so much more I could involve you in if you were in-house.”
The offer both intrigued and terrified her. “Maybe someday. I’d really like to work on the Sweet Water project.”
“No, no. no. You can’t do your best work on two projects. Especially while telecommuting. And the Sweet Water team may have to travel to Africa. No. I need you on MBA.”
“Please, Ethan. I promise my work on MBA won’t suffer. The idea behind Sweet Water is important to me. I don’t need to play a large role. I’d just like to contribute.”
He placed a finger on his lips and frowned. “Sweet Water is Hudson’s pet project.” Ethan smiled. “All right. I’ll have the Sweet Water team assign you something small. Also, Hudson asked me to give this to you.” He handed her an envelope bearing Hudson’s HB insignia.
“What is this?”
“Rumor has it that it’s a dinner invitation for two at five o’clock at the restaurant here in the tower. Now hurry!”
Olivia blushed red. “Thank you, Ethan. For everything.”
A nervous excitement rolled over her as she gazed at Hudson’s mysterious dinner invitation. She grieved again over her uninspired, sensible wardrobe, but she took a moment to brush her hair out and apply fresh lipstick before presenting her reservation to the maître d’. His eyes brightened at the mention of her name. He produced another envelope from a drawer at his station and handed it to her. It read:
Never worry that you are your mother. She possesses the same beautiful eyes, but you are not her. Enjoy your visit and see for yourself. H
Dinner with her mother? With her romantic expectations dashed, Olivia wanted to run straight back and tell Hudson off for meddling. Before she could make her exit, the
maître d’ led the way to an area by the fountain. Seated there, nervously toying with her compact, was Diane. Olivia wondered what her surname was now and what husband she was currently with. She studied her mother from the doorway, noting how timid and fretful she appeared. It had been almost ten years since they had last seen one another—Christmas of Olivia’s junior year. Time was leaving its mark on Diane’s beauty, but she was still what her last husband called her—a looker.
Diane pressed her hands over her mouth and gasped when she recognized Olivia. When she stood, she appeared small beside her stately daughter, requiring a stretch to reach her arms around Olivia’s neck, and in return, Olivia bent to receive her mother’s awkward hug. Diane’s eyes glistened as she studied her, muttering, “you’re so beautiful” and reaching for her hand over and over until Olivia begged her to stop and look at the menu.
The catch-up came quickly. Diane was still married to Peter Thibodeaux. The Louisiana plumbing contractor had opened her world, introducing her to NASCAR, Bluegrass music, and Cajun cuisine. She was even taking college classes.
Olivia redirected all questions about her past eight years, avoiding any discussion of Jeff. The last thing she wanted was to have her mother compare their choices and marriages.
“I can’t stay long. I have a meeting back in the tower.”
Diane’s eyes sparkled with pride. “In this tower? Smart and beautiful. You’re exactly as I imagined.”
Olivia hung on the words. “You imagined me smart and beautiful?”
“Of course. You were destined to be beautiful, but I knew your smarts would be your ticket.”
Tears burned Olivia’s eyes. “I never felt pretty. I thought I was a disappointment to you.”
Diane drew close and framed Olivia’s face in her hands. “No, no, baby girl. I was the disappointment. I felt your disapproval, even when you were little. My momma valued beauty, and that’s all I had. But I wanted something better for you, and look at what you’ve become: a successful businesswoman who can send her mother on a trip to New York City!”
A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE BOXED SET Page 45