by Cat Schield
Oliver rolled out of bed and headed for the closet. He cataloged her clothes with a quick glance and decided she hadn’t moved out. His relief was short-lived, however, because when he walked into the bathroom, he noted that the familiar collection of creams and makeup she used on a daily basis was gone.
He headed back to his nightstand but saw no sign of his phone. Flashing to the night before, he realized it was still downstairs with his discarded clothes. After a quick glance at the clock, he determined it was too late in the morning for him to risk wandering around naked, so he slid into a pair of boxer briefs and headed to his studio.
Heidi had the coffee on when he arrived. His clothes sat in a neat pile on the bottom step along with Sammi’s sexy black underwear.
“Hey,” he said to his assistant, digging through the jacket pockets and unearthing his phone. “Do we have anything going today?”
“No meetings or shoots, if that’s what you’re asking about.”
“Great.”
He opened his text app, preparing to send a message to Sammi, and paused. What could he say to her that he hadn’t already shared in bed last night? The problems that existed between them couldn’t be fixed with great sex. Not only had he failed to give her the love she needed, but he’d also broken her trust with the stunt he’d pulled on her ex-boyfriend.
“I was wondering if you could do me a favor,” he said, accepting the mug of coffee Heidi brought over.
“You pay me to do all kinds of favors for you,” his assistant said with a wry smile that faded as she noticed his expression. “Whatever you need.”
“Send two dozen red roses to...” He trailed off, realizing he couldn’t fix what was wrong with the romantic gesture. The only way forward with her was through letting go of his resentment toward his family and especially his father. “Scratch that,” he amended, determined to do something nice for one of the women in his life. “Take the day off. Use the corporate card and go get yourself a pedicure or take a friend to lunch. Or do both. Or neither. Just do something nice for yourself, on me.”
Heidi’s eyes had widened with shock as he’d spoken. “Are you sure? What if somebody calls?”
“Then we will call them back tomorrow. Go have fun.”
Leaving his stunned assistant staring after him in confusion, Oliver headed upstairs. He opened the app, pulled up his recent calls and dialed the one at the top. When he reached his father’s lawyer, Oliver made arrangements to visit Vernon in prison.
He didn’t need a series of empty days and nights without Sammi to wake him up. He’d already spent too much time letting his anger and hurt isolate him from the people he loved. In his heart, he knew that she’d been right. Confronting his father was the key to dealing with the anger that plagued him. As long as he avoided the source of his pain, he would never overcome the fear of rejection that was separating him from Sammi.
Three hours later, Oliver was on his way to the federal prison that housed his father. He’d been surprised how swiftly the visit had been arranged and somewhat relieved. Less time to second-guess his decision would avoid the chance that he’d back out.
Dismal gray walls closed in on Oliver as he headed into the heart of the facility. Anxiety, tension and anger mixed in his gut as he readied himself to see his father for the first time in a decade and a half. Bile rose, and he clenched his teeth to keep it down. As he went through the visitor procedures, Oliver wondered what the hell he was doing. How could anything good come out of seeing a father he despised? Especially when he knew Vernon had never loved him. What would Oliver gain by acknowledging that his father continued to sway his emotions?
Sammi believed that Vernon’s disappearance left Oliver with unresolved issues. He might resist acknowledging it, but every time he reflected on his childhood, he burned with outrage. As a kid he’d longed for his dad’s approval. Yet no matter how he strove to stand out, his efforts failed. Thanks to his father’s constant criticism, by the time he hit his teenage years, Oliver had stopped trying to please his father and acted out instead. Yet unlike Jake, who’d seemed to enjoy being a troublemaker, Oliver’s bad behavior had been a cry for attention. A cry that had been ignored.
Ignored. Isolated. Unloved.
Was it at all surprising that Oliver had sought to numb himself with drugs and alcohol? And as much as he regretted the years of addiction, Oliver had escaped the downward spiral on his own. No one in his family had reached out a helping hand. No, Oliver had done that all on his own. He’d dug himself out of his pit of despair. He’d given up drugs. He’d gotten himself clean. No one had helped. Just like he’d been successful because of his drive and his talent and his determination. Oliver had become a success, not because of his father, but in spite of his father. He’d succeeded because of the mistakes he’d made and what he learned from them.
With his heart pounding in his throat hard enough to choke him, Oliver entered a long room partitioned into visitor and inmate spaces. He hadn’t known exactly what to expect when he’d come to the prison, but he was relieved that he wouldn’t be alone with his father or face-to-face with open space between them. This setting, with the clear glass defining who was the visitor and who was the criminal, eased Oliver’s discomfort somewhat. He joined the half a dozen people engaged in conversations, selecting an empty seat, when he realized Vernon hadn’t yet arrived.
Dropping onto the smooth plastic chair, he noticed the low rumbling discomfort was growing louder, like a freight train coming at him from a distant place. The sensation had been building in him since Sammi had suggested he confront his past. Now a tremor went through him as childhood fear and anxiety escalated, crippling his self-confidence. Suddenly he was no longer a successful photographer with his pick of assignments, but a miserable little boy who’d craved his father’s attention, knowing he would never get it. For years Oliver had used drugs and alcohol to repress that scared child, but denying him kept him from healing.
Then Sammi had come along, her love and friendship chipping away at his defenses. Lulled by a sense of belonging, he stopped bracing against rejection and surrendered to a connection that felt so amazing, it terrified him. With Sammi he wanted to do better, be better. What he lacked was the confidence that he could succeed. No surprise then that his fear led him to behave badly.
The door leading into the prisoner’s side opened, drawing Oliver’s attention to the new arrival. A shock traveled through Oliver as he studied the man who approached. Despite his fit frame and the lack of gray hair, Vernon looked older. A network of wrinkles had been etched into his tan skin from a decade and a half in the sun. What had he been doing? No doubt fishing, Oliver thought, remembering the equipment he received from an anonymous source. Except for the dark circles beneath his eyes and the prison uniform he wore, Vernon Lowell looked as if he’d just returned from a long, relaxing vacation.
Well, he was back in the real world now, and his demeanor reflected that he knew it. The swagger that had once made his father seem all-powerful had been dimmed by his time behind bars. Yet some arrogance remained in the directness of his gaze as he sneered at his fellow inmates.
It was this confidence and his father’s hypocrisy that sparked Oliver’s temper. A second later, his anger flared to life as Vernon’s eyes narrowed when he spied who awaited him. No doubt his father was disappointed that Oliver was the son who had been the first to visit. Vernon had never had time for his youngest son before. Oliver expected his father was most curious about Josh and Jake and would be eager to hear how Black Crescent had been reborn beneath his eldest son’s leadership.
As Vernon sat down on the opposite side of the partition, he flashed his white teeth in a mocking grin. All of Oliver’s muscles locked up in response. He couldn’t move. He could only stare at his father and hate. This wasn’t some joyful reunion. His father had no right to happiness. For fifteen years Oliver’s mother had suffered from being abando
ned by her husband and faced the anger and spite of the neighbors and friends whom he’d cheated. She defended him at first, foolishly trusting the man she’d married, believing that he wasn’t responsible for their stolen fortunes. Oliver’s heart ached for her.
Vernon picked up the phone and put it to his ear. His father’s grin was sculpted in wax as he waited for Oliver to do the same so they could communicate. All the questions that had overwhelmed his mind on the trip here coalesced into one burning question. Vernon had once enjoyed everything that would’ve satisfied even the greediest of men. Yet he’d left it all behind and disappeared without a trace. Were they all so disposable in his eyes that he’d let his wife and sons believe he was dead this whole time?
Moving as if through mud, Oliver picked up the phone and put it to his ear. He stared at his father, unwilling to begin the conversation.
“You look good,” his father said, as if this was a normal conversation in a normal place on a normal day.
“So do you,” Oliver retorted, his tone dripping with sardonic irony. “But then you’ve been on a tropical island these fifteen years, living the good life while the rest of us have been dealing with the aftermath of your mess.”
“Your mother came by to visit,” Vernon said, acting like he didn’t hear his son’s accusation or the venom in Oliver’s tone. “Eve tells me you’re a photographer. You always did like to mess around with that sort of stuff instead of focusing on important things.”
Oliver hadn’t come here to exchange fruitless barbs with this man. He’d come here for answers, and he intended to get some. But first he wanted to let Vernon know that he shouldn’t expect they’d welcome his return with open arms.
“Do you know what disappearing with all that money did to your wife? Your family? Do you even care how much damage you’ve done?”
“I earned that money,” Vernon asserted, his forehead puckering. “That was all money that I made because of what I could do.”
Oliver gaped while his father rationalized the theft of millions of dollars, not just from clients who’d trusted him, but from his close friends. What kind of madness had possessed him to think that Vernon would take responsibility for all the harm he’d done? Putting aside his father’s pathetic attempt to justify the theft, Oliver tried again.
“Why didn’t you let any of us know that you were still alive?”
“I did.” Vernon smirked. “I sent you a fishing rod. Didn’t you get it?”
“I got it. Years too late.” As Oliver spoke, he waited for the hot rage that always blindsided him, but all he felt was cool disdain. “What I don’t understand is why you sent it.”
Even as he asked, Oliver wondered why he was even bothering. Nothing Vernon said could fix what was wrong with Oliver. What the hell was he hoping to achieve with this visit? Even if Vernon made an effort, something the selfish bastard would never do, nothing his father could say would make up for the harm he’d caused a decade and a half earlier or his neglect during the years before that. For too long, Oliver had been waiting for something that Vernon couldn’t possibly give him: peace.
How had he been so foolish to look for that outside himself? To give that much power to his father after everything that Vernon had done?
And then all the bad memories and debilitating doubts vanished in a flash of insight. Brightness exploded inside him, banishing the dark, bathing him in blessed relief.
He didn’t need Vernon’s answers. Didn’t need his approval or his love. The only people Oliver needed for true happiness were Sammi and their baby. With her he could make a fresh start. Because of her he could release his anger and embrace a future where he reconnected with his brothers and his mom.
Almost giddy with relief, he hung up the phone and stood. If Vernon was surprised at his son’s actions, Oliver never knew, because he didn’t even glance at his father before turning and walking toward the exit.
A sense of lightness and calm filled him so he felt as if he were walking on a trampoline rather than the hard tile floor of the prison corridor. With each step he shed more and more of the weight that had hampered his spirit all these years. Reaching the outside, he lifted his face to the overcast sky and laughed as snow fell gently onto his skin. Overwhelmed by the sudden and intense need to see Sammi and tell her of today’s insights, Oliver jogged toward the street.
* * *
“Congratulations!” Sammi lifted her sparkling water and clinked glasses with her mother. “The Paulson Agency is lucky to have you.”
Sammi pondered the ripple effect of her collision with Oliver two months earlier. Not only had changes come to her and Oliver, but to her mother and Ty, as well. Would the ripple spread to Oliver’s family next? If so, would it improve or further damage those relationships?
“I didn’t realize how much I missed those days with you, taking you to photo shoots and go-sees, until I walked into Paulson.”
Celeste’s wistful smile transported Sammi back in time to those magical days when she and her mother rambled all over New York City. In those days she’d never glimpsed the stress her mother must’ve been under. Now she wondered if that had been because Celeste had enjoyed the long hours of travel, auditions, hair and makeup sessions, and photo shoots. In the days before Sammi booked her first major runway, it had been the two of them against the world. Once Sammi’s career had taken off, her mother had been relegated to a lesser role.
“I’m sorry,” Sammi said, her throat tight with regret.
Celeste looked surprised by the suddenly somber turn the conversation had taken. “Sorry for what?”
“I haven’t said thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Her mother blinked. “You don’t need to thank me. It’s a mother’s job to take care of her child.” Her genuine smile made Sammi’s eyes water. “Even when her daughter doesn’t need her anymore.”
“I’ll never not need you,” Sammi said, her hand drifting over her abdomen. “Especially now. I need you more than ever.”
“That’s a relief,” Celeste said. “After how things have been between us these last few weeks, I thought for sure you would cut me out of your life—”
Sammi interrupted. “You told me to terminate my pregnancy.”
“That was the absolute wrong thing to say. I was thinking of your career, and mine, instead of considering how you felt and what you wanted.” Celeste’s expression twisted with regret. “I was afraid for you. I’m so sorry.”
Although her heartache eased at her mother’s apology, Sammi had been brooding over an important question for weeks. “Something has been bothering me since that day,” Sammi admitted. “Do you regret having me?”
“No. Of course not.” Celeste saw her daughter’s skepticism and shrugged. “Maybe in the early days my life would’ve been easier for me if I hadn’t become a mother at such a young age, but although I was terrified when I first learned I was pregnant, nothing in the world could have made me give you up.”
The earnestness of her mother’s confession gave Sammi hope that they could find their way back to the mother-daughter relationship she remembered from before her career took off.
“I can’t imagine what it was like for you to leave behind everyone and everything you knew and move halfway around the world.”
“I knew it would be a better life here.” Celeste squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I wanted a chance for a new beginning, and you’re right, it wasn’t easy. I had no skills and a high school education. I only hoped I could create a better life for you here than what I’d known in the Philippines.”
“And you did,” Sammi assured her. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be the woman I am.”
“And that woman is amazing,” Celeste said, her eyes shining with pride. “You are strong and beautiful. And you are going to be a wonderful mother.”
“I’m going to try to do as well as I can,
” Sammi said. “You’ve taught me a lot about sacrifice, and I hope my child appreciates me as much as I do you.”
Her mother smiled a bit sadly. “That certainly is a change from how you felt about me these last few years.”
“I guess I just needed a little space from you to put my life in perspective and understand all that you’ve done for me. In any given moment as I grew up I wanted to be with you and independent from you. There were times when I loved you and some when you were the last person I wanted to see. You know.” Sammi grinned. “Normal mother-daughter-relationship stuff.”
After lunch, Sammi returned to her apartment to pack the last few boxes and fill the suitcases she’d be taking with her to the studio apartment she’d rented. She was giving her apartment up the next day and needed someplace to go.
Even before learning last night what Oliver had done to Ty, she’d been leaning toward finding her own place. It had been his lack of remorse over how he let his anger dictate his actions that had put her mind at rest. The way things stood between them, moving in with Oliver was the wrong decision. Even though she loved him, even though she believed in his dream of cohabitating and co-parenting their child, when she’d gone all in and offered him her heart, he hadn’t accepted it.
Nor was she surprised. As great as the sex was between them, Oliver had never given her any indication that he wanted to be in love. Rejection loomed too large in his mind for him to give himself over to her support. His lack of faith in them as a couple was an obstacle she couldn’t overcome alone. Because of that, she’d decided to do what was best for her. She’d been in relationships before and knew when it wasn’t working. This time was different, though. This time she’d wanted it to work, and it broke her heart that they could never be.
