by Brea Viragh
“Renee’s going to be fine,” she repeated. “And if I can get her to take a nap, I might be able to sneak in some work from here. Otherwise, Carl will just have to wait another day for me to get the invoices to him.”
“He won’t be happy, you know. He hates when you work less than seventy hours a week.”
It was true. Any time she’d tried to take some time for herself, even a half day, he got testy. And Ashleigh was more than happy to step up and offer her services. It used to rub Olympia the wrong way, make her feel like she was being displaced. Or maybe replaced was a better word for it. At the moment, with a pathetic Renee curled at her shoulder like a weepy shrimp, Olympia didn’t feel like going anywhere.
“I’ll pop in at the end of the day anyway,” Harlan was saying, “because I’ve got a killer veggie and chicken noodle soup recipe that is great for colds. Kid tested and kid approved, by the way. I wouldn’t mind seeing you, either.”
The shiver was back with a vengeance, and Olympia opened her mouth to respond when the phone beeped, signaling a second call. “I’ve got to go. There’s someone on the other line.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
She clicked over, tightening her hold on Renee. “Hello?”
“Olympia? It’s Ashleigh.”
Speak of the devil. Even the girl’s voice grated on her nerves, which couldn’t be helped, but it was the last thing she wanted to hear. “It’s Sunday,” she reminded Ashleigh with tempered annoyance.
“I know, but with the gallery fundraiser coming up in two weeks we’ve been putting in overtime.”
She hated how Ashleigh emphasized the word we, like Olympia wasn’t part of the group anymore. Or maybe she only imagined it. At the moment, she was running on little sleep and caring for a fussy toddler, which made rational thought nearly impossible. “Yes, I realize the fundraiser is in two weeks. I’m the one who arranged the date,” she said. “What’s the trouble this time?”
“It’s Paolo.”
“The night manager?”
“He’s gone crazy. He tried to attack John today, and when Mrs. Palmer came to drop off the tablecloths we asked for, he came at her with a candlestick.”
Olympia’s spine jolted straighter. Paolo had never given her a bit of trouble. “Why would he do that? What’s going on there? Did you call the police?”
“No, but we cornered him in the staff bathroom and he says he won’t come out for anyone but you. You have to come and talk to him. Please,” Ashleigh begged.
She could do with more begging. When Renee whined and tightened her grip on the hairs at the back of Olympia’s neck, she sighed. “I have a sick kid at home. I can’t come in today.”
“What? No, you must. He threatened to slash the Davidson nude!”
Oh, that was the last straw. Olympia sighed again, this one burning the back of her throat, and straightened her shoulders. She drew the line at the desecration of fine art. “Give me fifteen minutes.” She hung up the phone with a click, then rubbed the back of her hand along Renee’s shoulders. “Honey, we have to go to work for a quick minute.”
“Oly, no.” The baby tugged those fine hairs again, struggling to get closer still. It was like trying to hold onto a sweaty, squirmy ball of fire.
She usually tried to dissuade Renee from the cutesy nickname Harlan thought it hilarious to call her behind her back. Today, however, it was said with such sadness she had no choice but to let it slide. “Do you want me to call Harlan back and have him come to watch you? Either that or you can come with me. I want to give you the choice.”
There was no way Olympia felt comfortable leaving the toddler, even with Harlan. Renee slowly nodded and, although she wasn’t sure which option the child agreed to, she opted to go with the latter, not wanting to disturb Harlan again.
She didn’t want to need him.
Bundling Renee in several layers to keep her warm, Olympia packed her up in the car and drove to the gallery. She arrived minutes later and hurried toward the staff workroom with the child on her hip.
“What’s going on here?” She kept her voice authoritative, praying no one would notice the giant dark circles under her eyes that made her look like she’d been sucker punched.
Ashleigh turned to her with wild eyes, trembling like she was the one who’d been attacked. “We managed to corner him in the bathroom but he’s going nuts. Off his meds or something. He started screaming and yelling and threatening anyone who came near him.”
“Paolo doesn’t take meds. Have you tried talking to him?”
“He doesn’t want to listen!”
Olympia knelt next to the door to make sure she could be overheard through the thick wood. Renee cried and snuggled closer. It was a balancing act, one she was coming to enjoy more and more. “Paolo? It’s Olympia. What happened?”
She could hear a scuttle from the other side of the door moments before it opened a crack. And there was her night manager, frowning, a large red bump on his cheek. “Tell the she-devil I don’t want to talk to her. I asked for you and I asked for you and she told me she was the one in charge. She told me you didn’t want to come.”
Renee clutched the neck of Olympia’s sweater and she struggled to focus on the bleary-eyed man. Besides the bump, he looked all right. “Are you okay?”
“I came in to get my paycheck and she said they weren’t done yet. Got in my face.” Paolo belched and she could tell he’d been drinking. Maybe that was the issue. “I need that money. My ex-wife...she says she needs it. For clothes. For food. I have to give it to her.”
Olympia turned to stare up at Ashleigh for a moment, making no move to hide her disdain, before flipping her attention back to Paolo. He looked like a man on the edge and when he breathed she could make out the sour stench of old liquor. He was having one of his moments again, where he went on an all-night binge and blamed his problems on his ex-wife. Olympia was usually there to talk him down off the ledge and deal with him. But she hadn’t been there for him today.
“Checks won’t be cut until Monday morning, you know that,” she said softly. “Why didn’t you just call me if there was a problem? You have my number.”
Paolo hiccupped.
“You’re taking his side?” Ashleigh asked, astonishment in her tone. Her hands were on her hips, and Olympia was reminded of a teenage drama queen from her high school days. “He came in here demanding to be paid. He wasn’t supposed to be here today, and when he refused to take no for an answer he tried to attack Mrs. Palmer!”
“I didn’t attack her. She got up in my face too.” Paolo bobbed his head and pulled from his jacket what looked like a bottle of water. Olympia suspected there was something else inside. “I need my check because she’s buying new clothes for the kids and doesn’t have enough. It’s important.”
“And if you keep carrying on like this you’re going to make yourself sick.” Olympia reached out through the crack in the door with her free hand and took the bottle from him. “Come on. Let’s get you out of there. I’ll write your check a day early, but don’t get any ideas. You can’t cash it until tomorrow morning.”
The rest of the crowd backed up when Olympia struggled to her feet and then helped Paolo to his. Good. Let them run away like scared little ducks, she thought nastily.
It might be the exhaustion talking.
There was little doubt in her mind Carl would fire Paolo after this. He’d been given multiple warnings about his drinking problems. Olympia wouldn’t always be there to cover for him, but she did the best she could because, alcohol and problematic ex-wife notwithstanding, she knew him to be a responsible man who believed in the value of putting in a hard day’s work.
They went into her office and she balanced Renee in her lap as she sat at her desk and wrote out a check for him by hand. Ashleigh watched from the doorway as though she were afraid to be in the same room. She later claimed she had held back because of a headache. Olympia attributed the attitude to something more permanent. A stick sh
oved far up the girl’s rear, maybe.
She’d say this for Paolo—he was a brave man. She knew if given the chance he would be back to work Monday night. She wondered if there was some way to spin this incident off as the product of a few overactive imaginations trying to push the worst possible scenario.
The moment Paolo was out the door, Ashleigh opened her mouth, nose in the air. “I cannot believe you’ve let him stay so long. You saw how he acted. He put everyone in danger.”
“He’s no more danger to you than I am.” Olympia stood, adjusted Renee to her hip, suddenly feeling exhausted, her arms shaking. This wasn’t how she’d planned her day to go, especially considering the marathon sex she’d had last night slash early this morning. The harder Renee clung to her, the more she wanted to run out the door and never come back. Her office felt smaller. More confined. Less like a paradise and more like a prison.
The gallery used to give her such pleasure. She’d thrown herself into the work after Dan died, and as it was her only solace, she hadn’t minded one bit. Now everything rubbed her the wrong way. In the span of a month, she’d gone from wanting a promotion, wanting more money, wanting more responsibility, to feeling like it no longer fit. Feeling like there were more important things out there than working herself to death.
With Ashleigh staring her down from the doorway, Olympia began to reconsider her priorities.
Then all hell broke loose.
Harlan strode down the hall, catching a glimpse of her through the door and reversing immediately. His hair was in disarray, his shirt buttoned wrong where he’d managed to skip one in his haste, and to her he’d never looked more attractive. There were two bright red marks on his cheeks. Probably from getting worked up.
“I was worried! I didn’t know where you were!” he burst out. “I went by the house to check on you and you were both gone. I mean, I figured if Renee was worse you had to have gone to the emergency room, and if that wasn’t it then you must have come here, but for a while I was out of my mind.”
He sent a hasty nod to Ashleigh before excusing himself and slipping past her. She stared open-mouthed.
“She shouldn’t be out of bed.” He held his hands out for Renee, who, upon realizing who it was, reached for him.
Olympia happily handed the baby over and was glad to give her arms a break. Parenting, as she was coming to find out, was not a single player sport. “I know. I’m sorry.” Then, unsure why she was apologizing, she fixed him with a look. “I don’t need you checking on me.”
“I’m not checking on you. I’m checking on her. I had brought a hot lunch and now it’s going to be cold.” He traced circles along Renee’s back, the universal “feel better” pattern. “You not feeling well, little girl? Poor thing.”
“Olympia, I’m not sure you’ve introduced me to your friend here.”
Jeez. She’d forgotten all about her assistant.
Ashleigh was oozing smile, all charm and grace. Suddenly she wasn’t just Olympia’s annoying underling. She was a very pretty blond woman in a red striped dress that clung to her figure like a sausage casing. Young. Vibrant. On the prowl. Single?
Her hips worked overtime and she might as well have held a sign up over her head that she wanted Harlan. It would have been a subtler way to get her point across. Subtler than the way she licked her lips like she wanted to eat him.
Olympia tried to stop her teeth from grinding together until they resembled powdered sugar. “This is my nanny...manny...er, babysitter, Harlan Anderson. Harlan, my assistant, Ashleigh Schweitzer.” She said the last bit with enough sickening sweet charm to down a rampaging rhinoceros.
Harlan didn’t care. He nodded, shifting Renee away from Olympia and cuddling her close.
“I can’t believe Olympia has been keeping you to herself,” Ashleigh replied. Scooting across the room. Gaze and attention focused on Harlan with laser beam accuracy.
“She keeps me pretty busy,” Harlan muttered. “Really no time to get out.”
“You’ll simply have to come to the gallery fundraiser. Hopefully, she’ll give you the night off.” Ashleigh blinked expertly made-up eyes at Olympia. It was another show. Another chance to be in the spotlight, center stage.
“I’m not sure. We haven’t spoken about it yet.”
Olympia couldn’t tolerate the flirtation any longer and felt a swell of anger surge in her gut. She wanted nothing more than to crush Ashleigh into tiny bits. “You know, it’s been lovely chatting, and lovely cleaning up your mess on my day off, but we really need to get going. The baby isn’t feeling well and I shouldn’t have taken her out in the first place.”
“As I said,” Harlan replied, leaning closer and speaking to Olympia alone, “I had lunch ready for us. Now I’ll have to put it on the stove and let it heat up.” Despite the undercurrent of warning in his voice, a reprimand for going out when she shouldn’t have, there was also innuendo. She watched his gaze heat, flash once before he turned away.
Olympia shook her head, following him out with purposeful strides. “Ashleigh, I’m locking the door behind me. If there are any other messes then please don’t call me. I’m going to be busy this evening.” Doing what, she wasn’t sure. She exited the office, locked the door, then pushed down the hallway without another word or look at the other woman.
“Do you always have that much fun at work?” Harlan asked as they walked to her car.
“Oh, tons. So much so I’m rethinking this whole working bit.”
“Yeah? I don’t believe it!”
He flashed her a quick smile over his shoulder, his hand again rubbing Renee’s back against another spell of coughing.
Olympia was instantly contrite. She shouldn’t have come out at all. She should have let someone else handle things. Because really, she wasn’t the only one who could. And she didn’t have to.
She spared a glance in the back seat at Renee during the drive home. The same little girl she’d once given serious thought to turning away. There had been such doubt. No trust in her ability to do the whole mothering thing. No way to juggle work and home life without help.
Now she felt confident. She felt strong and maybe a little stubborn, but this time, it was in a good way. A way where she wanted to be stubborn for herself and her happiness rather than someone else’s happiness.
It came down, she knew, to a choice between her job or her kid. Or rather this job and her kid, because without work she’d go crazy. Why couldn’t she focus on what she wanted to do? Which was open her own gallery.
“You know what, Harlan?” she said, leaning against the side of the car once they’d pulled into her driveway in tandem. A brisk breeze blew, a little on the cool side, but it didn’t bother her. It reminded her that she was alive. That she had a choice. “I’m going to do it.”
“Do what?”
She breathed in deep, held the cool air in her lungs. Then nodded. “I’m going to quit my job.”
Chapter 8
Harlan could hardly believe it when Olympia put in her notice the following day. She broke it to him just before dismissing him for the night, stress weighing her shoulders down yet relief tangible on her face.
He felt his eyes widen, the corners of his mouth lift, and he gave in to the desire to kiss her before he could stop himself. One moment she was on the other side of the table dropping her briefcase in a chair, the next his tongue was in her mouth. She might have pushed him away had Renee been anywhere around. But the kid was in the den watching cartoons. It was the perfect opportunity to give in to his desire.
She’d responded in kind, looping her arms around his shoulders and nearly steaming the socks off his feet. Then giddily laughed as she described the look on her boss’s face when she’d given him her notice.
Unfortunately, her upcoming resignation changed the entire dynamic between Harlan and Olympia. She was determined to go out with a bang, to make her last few weeks with the gallery count, including ensuring the success of the fundraiser. She considered it he
r final hurrah, and her dedication was breathtaking. Until it began to impact the rest of the household.
And by that he meant himself and the baby.
“You’re leaving early again this morning?” he asked, hating but unable to prevent the trace of a whine in his tone.
It was just shy of five a.m. and he’d spent the night in her arms. She’d taken great pains to insist it couldn’t happen again, but he prided himself on his ability to wear her down. Wear her down and get her to admit she enjoyed his company. More than enjoyed.
Olympia sat down on the bed with her arms behind her, snapping the two sides of her bra together. “I have to. There are so many things I need to do before this fundraiser. I can’t let everyone else do it for me. Less than two weeks before the big day.”
“Isn’t this the exact reason why you decided to quit?” He knew he was pushing her. Then he leaned forward to kiss her and soften the blow.
She obliged, although when he leaned back to search her face, a faint line had formed between her brows. “Yes, but I want to make sure this is the best damn fundraiser they’ve ever seen. I want to go out knowing they’ll miss me.”
“Ooh, I like the way you think. Have them pining over you.”
“Exactly. They need to know they’ll never have another coordinator who will kick ass the way I did. Carl might not have appreciated me the way he should have, but he’ll miss me, I guarantee it. Now, will you please get dressed and make it look like you didn’t spend the night here? I don’t want Renee to get any ideas about us.”
“You do realize she’s four, right? She is definitely smart for her age but I doubt she’ll know we’re sleeping together. She doesn’t know what it means.”
“No, but she might start thinking we’re her new mommy and daddy. And that—”
“Is something you can’t allow. I got it.”
Harlan did his best to not feel lightheaded when he pushed up and swung his legs over the opposite side of the bed. A man could get used to this, he thought. Spending the night in the arms of a gorgeous woman and waking up next to her in the morning. And the only woman he wanted for the job was the one who wanted to maintain her distance.
