by Cat Schield
* * *
“What do you think about this?” Sammi asked, emerging from the dressing room in a strapless satin dress of bold chartreuse that popped against her dark hair.
Kimberly glanced away from her reflection and nodded. “I like it. What do you think about this?” She indicated the blue velvet jacket dress that showed off her mile-long legs and enhanced the blue of her eyes. “Strappy sandals or thigh-high boots?”
“Definitely the boots.”
Sammi dropped her arm onto the other woman’s shoulder, and the two of them adopted the broken lines and bored expressions of an editorial photoshoot. Behind them, several women watched in fascination.
The two models were out shopping for something to wear to a launch party later that night. Adina was introducing a new line of vegan leather purses at Into the Now, a SoHo boutique that featured luxury-brand sustainable fashion, makeup and accessories. Both Kimberly and Sammi had taken part in the media campaign that had preceded the launch and been invited to the opening.
Decisions made, both women made their purchases and headed to a nearby restaurant for lunch. Since Oliver’s proposal two days before, Sammi had been eager to talk to her friend about it but preferred to have the discussion face-to-face.
“Something happened with Oliver the other day,” Sammi said, digging into her salad with gusto.
Kimberly scrutinized her friend. “Something good or bad?”
“I’m not sure,” Sammi admitted. “He asked me to marry him.”
“Wow! That’s fast.”
“Too fast. I turned him down.”
“How come?” Kimberly had been following Sammi’s romantic journey with Oliver and knew all about her friend’s hopes and fears surrounding the relationship. “I mean, you’re crazy about the guy, and he’s obviously into you.”
“I’ve fallen hard for him, but I don’t know if he’ll ever feel the same way about me.” Sammi released a shaky breath.
In the hours following Oliver’s proposal, she’d been clearheaded and firm in her resolve. But the more time that passed, the more she waffled. Would marrying Oliver be such a bad thing? Even though he didn’t love her, she knew he wouldn’t cheat. He’d been clear about his disgust with his father over Vernon’s numerous dalliances and the misery this had caused Oliver’s mother. A man as strong in his beliefs as Oliver wouldn’t go back on them, and even though that meant he had a hard time letting go of his anger, Sammi knew he would devote himself to their family. But was duty enough for her? If her physical passions were satisfied, but her heart remained empty, could she ever be happy?
“I want to believe he could come to love me,” Sammi continued, “but I’m afraid that he’s too pessimistic to let down his walls. It all goes back to how his father treated him as a kid. His older brothers got all the attention while Oliver was ignored and unappreciated. All he wanted was his father’s love, and no matter what he did, how much he excelled in school or at sports, Josh and Jake were the sons their father praised.” Sammi didn’t blame Oliver for being skeptical when it came to putting his heart on display. “And now that his father is back, he’s angry all the time.”
“But it’ll get better after the trial is over, won’t it?”
“I don’t know,” Sammi admitted. “Because he can’t let go of his resentment over how Vernon treated him growing up, his temper keeps him from trusting and opening his heart.”
“Have you brought up counseling?” Kimberly asked.
“I haven’t.” But not because Oliver might be unwilling to talk about his feelings. He’d been in therapy while dealing his addiction. No, it was Sammi whose whole body went cold at the thought of discussing their issues. What if she received clear confirmation that their relationship was doomed? “He’s been angry for so long... I’m not sure he wants to let go of it.” The familiar darkness had become such a part of him that she worried he knew no other way to exist.
“So what are you going to do?”
“If I’m unwilling to raise my child in a negative environment, I need to make a decision about our relationship as soon as possible.”
Later that evening, Sammi’s conversation with Kimberly seemed like an overreaction as she emerged from Oliver’s bedroom. His eyebrows went up as he took in her new finery, and Sammi trembled beneath the onslaught of appreciation radiating from him.
“You look incredible,” he murmured, taking her hand and turning her slowly so he could admire her from every angle. “Absolutely gorgeous.”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed his way along her temple to her ear, where he began whispering provocative alternatives to that night’s event. Sammi’s skin flushed as he nibbled on her earlobe, but she set her hand on his chest and pushed him back with a breathless laugh.
“I really should put in an appearance.” Her stomach tightened at his anguished groan, intensifying the lust that had awakened at his nearness. “After all, I was part of the campaign.”
“Then later,” he promised, twin flames lighting his blue eyes.
Even though Into the Now was only a few short blocks from Oliver’s loft, the early November weather had turned blustery, so they grabbed a cab for the short trip.
In addition to many of Sammi’s fellow models, the event was attended by several A-list actors, New York City socialites and fashion influencers. Sammi and Oliver circulated through the guests, chatting with those they knew. With Oliver’s hand resting possessively on her hip, Sammi tried to relax. Things hadn’t gone smoothly when they’d made their first public appearance over a week ago, and since then, the only time they seemed to connect was in bed. Not that she was complaining.
Although their polite interactions during the day left Sammi with an aching heart, at night they came together in frantic, explosive hunger that shattered her defenses and left her convinced that they’d figure out a way past their difficulties. Unfortunately, as the sun warmed the bedroom she and Oliver shared, the happy glow of their lovemaking faded. She’d venture to the kitchen for breakfast and find Oliver polite and solicitous, but firmly withdrawn behind a wall of mundane conversation.
They existed in a bubble where only the present mattered. Neither discussed the future, and the past only raised hurts that couldn’t be healed. Oliver ceased all mention of the media blitz surrounding his father’s upcoming trial, and the only time he brought up the baby was to ask how she was feeling. His care for her was apparent, but that was no match for his pessimism.
Yet tonight, as the evening progressed, Oliver demonstrated the sort of warm affection that left Sammi reevaluating her behavior. Were her doubts getting in the way of their deepening relationship? After all, she’d been the one who’d denied that they were a couple. Sammi recognized that her hesitation was driven by her fears. She was so determined to make wise decisions about their future that she was keeping him at arm’s length.
They were chatting with Kimberly and her fiancé about his project that the two women had participated in when Oliver’s phone began to buzz. He surreptitiously slipped it from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
“Vernon’s lawyer,” Oliver explained, answering her quizzical look.
“You can’t keep dodging his calls,” she advised, her enthusiasm for the event waning as Oliver’s expression darkened. “If you’re not going to visit your father, tell him.”
With a grim nod, Oliver excused himself and headed off. Sammi remained behind and was chatting with her friends when Kimberly nudged her. Glancing in the direction her friend indicated, Sammi spied Ty with a leggy blonde on his arm. As if aware of her attention, Ty’s gaze locked with hers. His glower was so fierce that Sammi knew he would make trouble if they crossed paths. Deciding she’d rather face him with Oliver beside her, Sammi excused herself and went in search of him.
Most of the action was happening on the first three levels of the six-floor boutique. She sp
otted him in a back hall on the third floor, just past the elevators.
Despite the party noise behind her, Sammi was able to hear Oliver’s side of the conversation. His tense voice revealed his agitation.
“I don’t give a damn what my father wants. I’m not going to visit him. Ever.”
Sammi retreated before she was caught spying and fled back toward the party. Overhearing Oliver’s side of the conversation with Vernon Lowell’s lawyer gave Sammi a lot to think about. The level of rage Oliver felt toward his father made her anxious. While Sammi was growing up, her mother had often demonstrated the same sort of turbulent outbursts whenever something surrounding Sammi’s career had gone awry. She understood now that the anger had been born of fear, that Celeste was terrified of falling back into the poverty she’d known as a child.
Sammi craved the sort of emotional stability she’d never known growing up, and if Oliver’s virulent outbursts weren’t healthy for her to be around, then she certainly didn’t want her child drinking in all the negativity that the drama unfolding with his family incited. What made it worse was how he’d shut her out while dwelling on all the things that had gone wrong in the past. How could she plan a future with him when he refused to let her be a full partner in his present?
So had she just decided against moving in? Was it really that cut-and-dried? Or should she ask Oliver to join her in counseling to work on his anger issues? She’d been around him long enough to know that he could keep a promise. He’d been sober for eight years. And he was maintaining his sobriety despite the upheaval of his father’s upcoming trial.
On her way toward the elegant stairs that divided the narrow boutique into exclusive shopping opportunities, Sammi was too lost in thought to pay attention to her surroundings.
“I thought you might be here” came a smug masculine voice.
Sammi stopped as she realized her way was blocked by her ex. “Hello, Ty,” she said, noting his immaculate navy suit and crisp white shirt. “Sorry I can’t stay and chat, but my friend is looking for me.”
The excuse sounded lame, but she had no interest in engaging with Ty. She made to brush past him, but Ty reached out and stopped her. To Sammi’s surprise, she felt no inclination to cringe away from the malice narrowing her ex-boyfriend’s eyes.
“Let go of me,” she warned, twisting her arm free from the cruel bite of his fingers.
“You mean that guy you’re with? Oliver Lowell, right?”
“Yes...” Sammi drew out the affirmation, wondering why Ty was looking so sly.
“So,” her ex muttered ominously, “you were behind it.”
“Behind what?” Sammi squared her shoulders and looked Ty straight in the eye, seeing the insecurity that made him behave like a bully. Why hadn’t she realized what he was long ago and saved herself a whole lot of misery?
“Like you don’t know,” Ty sneered. “I lost my job thanks to you.”
“Thanks to me? I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I certainly didn’t have anything to do with you losing your job.”
“Your denial might be more believable if you weren’t here with Lowell.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Fine. Play the innocent,” he sniffed. “A couple weeks after you and I broke up, my manager sits me down, tells me there’s been a series of complaints about me from my biggest client.”
If he treated them with the same disdain he’d shown her, then Sammi wasn’t surprised he’d gotten into trouble.
“What does any of that have to do with Oliver or me?”
“It took me a while to connect the dots, but eventually I found out that the person stirring up trouble was your date.”
“Oliver?” she breathed, suddenly feeling sick. “That makes no sense. Why would he go out of his way to make trouble for you?”
“At the time I had no idea. In fact, none of it made any sense until I saw the two of you together tonight.”
“What are you saying?”
“That you asked him to mess with me.”
“What? That’s absurd.”
“Is it? You two look pretty cozy. How long have you known each other?”
Sammi stared at her ex-boyfriend in puzzlement. “We met in September.”
“When in September?”
Sammi tossed her head. “If you have to know, the night we broke up.”
“And you’ve been going out this whole time?”
“No, I was in Paris for fashion week and didn’t see him again until early October. Why?”
“So when you two met that night, you didn’t cry on his shoulder about how I’d dumped you?” He paused and leered. “Or why?”
“I didn’t.” Sammi frowned, trying to recall that evening and what they’d talked about. “I mean he asked me if I was okay. He’d obviously seen what happened between us before you took off. And stuck me with the unpaid bar tab,” she added in a spiteful afterthought.
“So you wanted a little revenge.”
Sammi frowned, trying to wrap her head around what he was saying. “That’s not true. And besides, Oliver has no idea who you are. How could he possibly cause you to lose your job?”
“We met that night as I was leaving. He dumped a drink on me, and I gave him my business card so he could pay for my dry cleaning.”
“I’m sure it’s all a big coincidence.”
“Some coincidence when I see you two looking all lovey-dovey,” Ty said in a dark tone. “You can deny it all you want, but I know you were behind the whole thing.”
Sammi reeled as Ty’s accusation struck her. “I knew nothing about any of this,” she declared, wishing she could speak for Oliver, as well. “And I’m sure if your client complained about you, there was a reason for it.” Sammi didn’t wait for Ty to reply before heading back the way she’d come. Toward Oliver.
Was it possible that he’d done something so devious and harmful to Ty? And for what purpose? For her? Had she said something that spurred Oliver to act? Or had his anger gotten the better of him?
Sick to her stomach, she ducked into a restroom and leaned heavily on the counter until her breathing slowed. Ty’s accusation spun through her head, pinning her in place. What was she supposed to do with what she’d learned? Her phone buzzed with a text. She glanced at the screen and saw that Oliver was looking for her. The idea of confronting him about what Ty said filled her with dread, but what if she told him about her encounter with Ty and Oliver did something even worse?
Sammi knew she’d never be able to keep silent. She wanted an honest relationship with Oliver, both for herself and her child. And if that meant she had to give up on the idea of being a couple with him... She’d already given him her heart. The thought of wrenching it away made her ache. Oliver would always be a part of her life. But he had to know that his anger issues were posed to do all of them harm.
Decision made, she texted Oliver back, letting him know that she wasn’t feeling well and would meet him near the entrance. Then, bracing herself for the conversation to come, she headed for the elevator.
Eleven
In the quiet back corridor on the boutique’s third floor, Oliver hung up on his father’s lawyer and stewed. How could Vernon possibly believe he deserved forgiveness or redemption or whatever the hell he thought he might achieve by seeing his sons? Oliver was only too happy to disappoint him.
He knew Sammi was waiting, no doubt worried how the call had gone, but the anger surging through his veins needed to die down before he faced her. Tonight’s event was all about her, and he’d spoil the mood if he stormed back filled with irritation.
It was getting harder each day to moderate his temper around her. Everywhere he turned, he was forced to contend with people’s curiosity about his father’s upcoming trial. Nonstop leaks spilled tidbits involving the evidence that had been gathered; New York
newspapers wrote articles featuring the families who’d lost everything to Vernon Lowell’s larceny. Oliver couldn’t go anywhere without confronting his father’s wrongdoing.
The deluge threw salt in unhealed wounds, and with each day that passed Oliver struggled to stay sober. He’d started attending meetings again, finding comfort in anonymity. Yet although the community helped him, he hadn’t shared with Sammi that he was going. He was trying to convince her to move in with him and didn’t want his struggles to create an obstacle to that.
Finally calmer, Oliver went back downstairs to find Sammi. He sent her a text asking her location. Passing one of the bars set up on each level, he paused. As much as he loved the burn of whiskey as it blazed its way down his throat, he appreciated its numbing qualities just as much. The urge to toss down several shots of whatever decent vintage the bartender had on hand nearly overwhelmed him before Oliver got his feet moving again.
If merely contemplating a meeting with his father left him grappling with the addiction that had nearly killed him, Oliver knew he’d been right to reject all pressure to visit Vernon in prison. He paused near the second-floor landing as his phone buzzed, indicating he’d received a text. Sammi. He quickly scanned her text, concern rushing through him at her message.
Did her sudden illness mean something was wrong with the baby or was it merely normal sickness brought about by her pregnancy? Oliver rushed down the remaining stairs, and when he didn’t see Sammi anywhere inside the entrance, he moved through the door and onto the SoHo street.
Relief struck him as he spied her off to one side, her slim body wrapped in her long wool coat with faux fur accents. The welcome sight of her, shivering in the chilly night air, smothered the last of his bad temper as he approached her.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She took the arm he offered and drew him toward the curb. “I just need some fresh air. Let’s go back to your place.”
