by Elise Noble
And now he tossed his phone back onto the table. “Jury’s back. I need to get to court.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, stay here. It’ll be a circus.”
I paced for an hour. I chewed my hair, spat it out, berated myself for it. And finally, I gave in and switched on the TV. Oliver was front and centre, microphones shoved up in his face as he spoke calmly and assuredly.
“Justice was done today, and while it won’t bring back Miss Walker, I hope her family and friends can take some comfort from that.”
I sagged back on the sofa. He’d done it. He got his conviction. The tension seeped out of me like an oil slick, spreading thinner and thinner until it dispersed on the waves.
Carter was going to prison. He’d killed Chrissie, and now he’d spend his life in the hellhole he tried to send Ethan to. I didn’t feel sorry for him. Not one bit.
Ethan himself didn’t attend the press conference, which meant Oliver bore the brunt of the questions. Not that I could blame Ethan. He didn’t ask for any of this hoopla either. His new manager did put in an appearance and conveyed his client’s relief at the outcome, yadda, yadda, yadda, and informed the world that Ethan just wanted to carry on making music. I stayed glued to the TV, watching the sound bites over and over on repeat until the front door opened.
Oliver still had a little leftover swagger from court, but he deserved it today.
“You won!”
“We won. It was a team effort.” He broke into a grin. “And it feels fucking awesome.”
I curled my fingers around his lapels and pulled him closer. “So, are we celebrating?”
He grimaced then sighed. “I’ve got bad news about that.”
“Tell me.”
“Bradley’s throwing a party tonight. Dan tried to stop him, but apparently he’s been planning it for days.”
“But you hadn’t even won yet.”
“Oh, Bradley doesn’t let little things like that stop him. Will you come?”
“With you?”
“No, Steffie, I thought I’d send you on your own while I got some sleep. Of course with me.”
“I’ll have to go home and pick up something to wear.”
He touched his lips to mine. “I’d drive you, but there are reporters camped out downstairs. I’ll call for a car and meet you at Riverley?”
“Weirdly, I look forward to it.”
When I arrived in the grand hallway at Riverley two hours later, streamers hung from the suits of armour flanking the front door and a banner on the wall proclaimed “Happy Conviction.”
Emmy, Oliver’s biggest client, faced Bradley with her hands on her hips. “Do you really think this is appropriate?”
“We haven’t had a party in ages.”
She pointed at the banner. “What next? Are we gonna have fireworks next time I shoot someone?”
“Hmm, now there’s an idea…”
“No. Just no.” She turned to me. “Hey, Stef. Glad you could make it.”
Emmy had never been anything but nice, but she still made me nervous.
“Thanks for inviting me. Is Oliver here yet?”
“Try the kitchen. He went to find a drink, and I can’t say I blame him.”
By eight o’clock, the party was in full swing. Bradley had got a bit ahead of himself with his electric-chair-shaped cake, and the waiters were dressed in orange jumpsuits.
“Would you like a lethal injection, ma’am?” one of them asked me.
“What? No!”
“It’s only a cocktail.” He held out a tray of giant syringes filled with purple liquid.
“What’s in it?”
“Gin, lychee puree, Blue Curaçao, lemon juice, and grenadine.”
“Okay, I’ll try one. What am I supposed to do, squirt it into my mouth?”
“Exactly, ma’am.”
It actually wasn’t that bad. Beside me, Oliver stuck with a glass of red wine and rolled his eyes.
“Every time Bradley throws a party, I think it can’t possibly get any more tasteless, and every time, he surprises me.”
“Let’s just go with the flow. It’ll be over soon.”
At the front of the ballroom, Bradley stood on a chair and clapped his hands.
“Time for the party games. First up, jailbird Twister. Each couple wears a pair of handcuffs.”
He snagged Emmy as she walked past and clapped a bracelet onto her wrist. I didn’t see exactly what she did, but two seconds later, Bradley was attached to a lamp and Emmy carried on walking.
“You don’t play fair!” he squealed.
“I also don’t play Twister.”
Dan took pity on the man and released him. “I’ll play. Come on, Ethan, it’ll be fun.”
Ethan didn’t look as if he shared her opinion, but he held up a hand. “Fine, get it over with.”
Oliver’s arm tightened around my waist. “I’m weighing up the benefits of being handcuffed to you against the downside of playing games.”
“I’m not wearing any panties.”
Oliver grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door, but Bradley spotted us.
“Hey! Come back.”
We got into the hallway and ran for the stairs, Bradley’s cries echoing behind us. On the next floor, Oliver shoved open the first door on the left and we tumbled through into the library.
Whoa. I’d never been in there before, and the vast shelves full of old books were like something out of a fairy tale. Floor lamps cast a dim glow as I walked over to the nearest and ran my fingers over the leather spines.
“This room’s beautiful. How old are these books?”
“I’m not interested in the books tonight, princess.”
He stalked me as I toured the room, taking in the wood carvings, the oil paintings on the walls, the worn leather seats. All such a far cry from my normal world, where my collection of paperbacks fitted on the tiny shelf next to my bed. I imagined myself curled up here with a fire roaring in the hearth while I got lost in the old tomes. One of three sets of French windows opened to my right, and I stepped onto the balcony, staring out across the moonlit estate. Before I met Oliver, I’d seen pictures of places like this, but now I’d lived the reality, if only for a few nights.
“I feel like Juliet.”
“Does that make me Romeo?”
“Preferably without the tragic ending.”
I leaned on the stone balustrade, so cool under my fingers but rough from years of weathering. By now, I knew Oliver well enough that the sound of his zipper wasn’t a surprise.
A sigh escaped my lips as he ran both hands up my bare thighs, stopping at my waist.
“You weren’t kidding about the panties.”
I spread my legs slightly, waiting. “Never with you.”
He ran a finger between my legs, and I shuddered. “You’re soaked, princess. You’ve turned into a little minx, haven’t you?”
“Mmmm.”
“I like that in a woman.”
So did I. At Rubies, sex had felt dirty, bad, wrong, but Oliver had helped me to embrace my filthy side in a way I’d never have dared to do in the past.
He slid into me, and I revelled in the full moon as he worked his fingers in and out, gently at first, getting faster as he undid the buttons on the front of my dress. Yes, I’d picked that one out for a reason.
Each tweak of my nipples sent spasms through me, and I clung onto the stonework harder.
“Touch me. Please.”
Oliver’s hand moved to the sweet spot just as the door clicked open behind us. I froze, but Oliver only laughed.
“Someone’s there,” I whispered.
“I don’t care tonight.”
A brassy voice bit through the air. “For fuck’s sake, dude. We’ve got eighteen bedrooms in this place, and half of them have got balconies. Private balconies.”
“Get lost, Emmy. We’re busy.”
The door slammed, and I couldn’t help giggling. “Finally
caught.”
“Yes, I have been.”
One last stroke of his fingers almost sent me falling over the edge of the balcony, but Oliver held me close as he came. I sagged back against him, spent, and with the newfound knowledge I’d do anything he asked me to. Being caught gave me the hardest orgasm of my life.
“Shall we go and find one of those bedrooms?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He picked me up and carried me back through the library, along the corridor, and up the next flight of stairs, peppering me with kisses as he went.
“We just need to make a quick stop, princess. I want to grab some scarves.”
CHAPTER 34
OLIVER RECREATED OUR first night together in every way except the tears, including disappearing by morning.
This time, though, I was ready for it. I knew he’d be back, so I took a shower and got dressed. My overnight bag had magically appeared in my room, which meant at least I had underwear.
I didn’t know which room Oliver slept in, so I hoped to see him at breakfast—well, brunch, seeing as it was eleven o’clock now. But when I got into the kitchen, only Emmy sat at the counter, contemplating a mug of coffee.
Wonderful. Of all the people I’d hoped to avoid this morning, she was the one sitting in front of me. I tried to cover my blush with my hands as she looked up.
“Don’t worry. I only saw Oliver’s ass, and it wasn’t the first time.”
What? I couldn’t hold back my gasp.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I haven’t fucked him. He goes skinny-dipping in the pool some mornings.”
I wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. I couldn’t imagine Oliver being so uninhibited.
“Do you know where he is?”
“Yeah.” She sighed. “There’s a bit of bad news. Well, sort of. Depends on how you choose to look at it. I’m happy, but Oliver’s had to go to the precinct.”
My heart skipped. “The police precinct?”
“Carter killed himself in the county jail last night. Fucking coward.”
“Ohhhh.”
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting her to say, but it sure wasn’t that. How did I feel? Honestly?
Relieved.
“Give it an hour or two, and the media’ll be hopping on the story like fleas. Oliver needs to make a statement about how sorry everyone is, blah, blah, blah, but hopefully he’ll be back for lunch.”
“I can get a cab home.”
“Don’t bother. Oliver’ll pick you up when he’s done.”
“I don’t want to put him to any trouble.”
She laughed. “The dude’s crazy about you. Trust me, it won’t be any trouble for him.”
“I don’t think he is. What we have, well, it’s more of an arrangement.”
Oh dear, why did I tell her that? Oliver never broadcasted what was going on between us, and now I’d blurted out his secret. Yes, Dan knew, but Dan was closer to Oliver. What on earth would Emmy think?
She ticked off points on her fingers. “He’s cleared two evenings a week for you in the middle of his busiest time at work ever. He stepped out of a meeting with me to text you the other day. And he brought you here.”
Okay, less judgey than I thought.
“He says he doesn’t do relationships, and he never spends the night with me. That’s hardly commitment.”
Would he ever offer more?
“He’s scarred.”
“I don’t understand why.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “Did he bring Kelly here? Or Darcy?”
Those were the two names I’d heard mentioned, and I had no comparison between them and me, only the knowledge that they’d both had rooms in his apartment. What did they have that I didn’t?
Emmy raised an eyebrow. “You know about them?”
“Only their names. Oliver never talks about his past.”
She sighed, then took a sip of coffee and set her mug down. “Oliver’s past drives him. And in answer to your question, yes, he brought Darcy here, but never Kelly. I’d have run Kelly off the property and everyone knew it, including her.”
Someone else who didn’t like Kelly. “Why was Darcy so different?”
“Because Darcy was Oliver’s daughter. Kelly was just the woman who gave birth to her.”
The bottom just dropped out of my world. “His d-d-daughter?”
“Yeah. Cute kid, despite having the world’s biggest bitch for a mother.”
“You keep saying ‘was’?”
“Darcy died when she was two years old.”
My hands flew to my mouth and I gasped again. “What? How?”
“I’ll tell you, because if you’re going to have any sort of future with Oliver, you need to understand why he is how he is. But be bloody careful with the knowledge, yeah? He still won’t talk about it, six years later.”
“I promise. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”
“I know that. But sometimes it happens even when you don’t mean it to.”
“I love him.”
Well, wasn’t I just one big stream-of-consciousness today?
Emmy closed her eyes for a second. “I get that too. Anyway, I didn’t know Oliver well back then, but he’s always been close to Dan. They used to go out drinking together. Kelly was a one-night stand that went wrong in the worst possible way.”
“She got pregnant?” I whispered.
“Bitch probably poked holes in the condom. But when she told him a couple of months later, he tried to do the right thing and moved her into his apartment. She spent half a year abusing his credit card and irritating the shit out of him before Darcy was born. Dan even caught her drinking. We both went over there and informed her of the error of her ways.”
“She sounds awful.”
“And she only got worse after Darcy came into the world. She’d go out partying every single fucking night. Oliver hired Bridget to look after his daughter in the daytime so he could carry on working, then cared for her himself in the evenings. They’d come over here to escape the car crash in his apartment some weekends.”
“So what happened to her?” I almost didn’t dare to ask, but at the same time, I needed to know.
“Oliver was defending a guy who’d killed his neighbour’s kid. Everyone knew he did it, but Oliver got the asshole off on a technicality. He had this ‘win at all costs’ mentality, and back then, he hadn’t learned how to pick the right battles. Plus Kelly was spending his money faster than he made it, so he couldn’t easily afford to turn down work.”
“I didn’t realise he was like that. I mean, I know him being with me during the trial wasn’t ethical, but…”
“Once upon a time, honey, you both screwed people for money. But you’ve changed and so has he. Darcy’s death taught him a lot. Anyhow, there were threats. The neighbour told Oliver he’d feel the same pain, then disappeared. The police searched for the man, and we looked for him too, but every time we got a sniff of him, he vanished again. Oliver told Kelly to stay inside, but it was Bridget’s morning off and Kelly just had to get a fucking manicure, didn’t she?”
“She took Darcy out with her?”
Emmy nodded. “The neighbour was waiting, and he shot both of them and then himself. Kelly survived. Darcy didn’t.”
A tear rolled down my cheek as I thought of what Oliver had lost. No wonder he never talked about his past. How did a man get over losing a child like that? He didn’t. That was the answer. Not ever. I wiped my face with my sleeve, but the tears kept coming as Emmy continued.
“Oliver gave up trial work straight away. He said no amount of money, or fame, or glory was worth that pain. That’s how he ended up doing all my corporate shit. Carter was his first trial in six years, and he was on the right side this time. Carter needed to go down. It’s been tough on Oliver, but you’ve helped him through it.”
“I’ve barely done anything. If I’d known…”
“It was better that you didn’t. Hardly anybody knows—it all got hushed
up to prevent copycat attacks, and we managed to keep it out of the media. And Oliver doesn’t need kid gloves. He just needs someone who cares about him to come home to at the end of the day. But you see why he struggles with commitment now?”
“He never wants to get into another Kelly situation.”
“Guilt wouldn’t let him get rid of her. And he hates the pain of losing someone he cares for if something goes wrong.”
“So what should I do now? How can I help him?”
“Nothing but what you have been doing. Either he’ll see the light and change, or he won’t. I don’t think pushing him will help matters. It’s taken him a long time to get this far.”
The sound of footsteps in the hallway made me turn my head, and Oliver walked in, looking tired.
“Steffie? Why are you crying?”
“Uh… I…”
“I told her about Carter,” Emmy interrupted. “It’s been an emotional time for everyone.”
I managed a shrug. “Hormones.”
That excuse always seemed to work with men.
Oliver put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me against him. “It’s over. We all need to forget Carter now.”
“I know. I’ll try.”
“Do you want to go home? Or stay here for a while?”
“I don’t mind. Whatever you want.”
He turned to Emmy. “Is Bradley still wreaking havoc?”
“Bradley’s clearing up the ballroom. I’ve banned him from shopping until he’s finished.”
Oliver kissed me softly on the lips, and I caught Emmy’s smile from the corner of my eye. Not her usual cunning smile, either. A genuinely happy one. Someone should have framed that picture for posterity.
Then Oliver took my hand. “Shall we borrow the movie room for one of those old black and whites you love so much?”
“Are you going to fall asleep?”
“Probably.”
I ran a finger over the furrows between his eyes. “You need to.”
“Then let’s go.”
Oliver passed out almost immediately, stretched lengthways on the plush velvet sofa in the screening room as the opening credits rolled. I took his shoes off and found a blanket, then curled up next to him, our fingers intertwined.
