One Love for Liv

by Marianne Arkins

  She was happy with the outcome and had some planning to do. It seemed Geoff and Daisy were away for at least a couple of days. She’d have access to Daisy’s home, but she wasn’t entirely certain what edge that gave her, if any.

  Besides, did she want Geoff back if he had cheated? Would she ever be able to trust him again? Could she envision her future without him? She did love him, after all. Didn’t she? If he was cheating, could she forgive the slip-up?

  She went to sleep that night with Geoff on her mind.

  But she dreamed about Mike.

  *

  After an hour of tossing in bed, Mike threw back the covers and went to the fridge, staring at the meager contents inside. He snatched up the last beer and twisted off the top, tossing it in the general direction of the kitchen sink.

  He replayed his crazy evening. First, he’d practically knocked out some strange woman who was searching for her last dollar, now he was expecting the same weird woman to cook and clean for him? He’d lost his ever-loving mind.

  So what if she was gorgeous? He smirked when he remembered the look on her face after he’d told her she was too skinny. She’d been mad as a wet hen, but kept it inside. In fact, she’d pretty much kept everything inside. The only time he’d felt like he was seeing the real Olivia was when she’d laughed. That startled look in her eyes when her amusement bubbled over was priceless.

  He reached a hand up and rubbed his shoulder. It still stung a bit where her fingernails had cut into his flesh. He tried not to think about her nails digging into him out of passion instead of fear, but failed miserably. He could, far too clearly, picture her face flushed pink from lovemaking, her lips parted, begging to be kissed.

  With a growl, he took another slug of beer. Maybe he should just pour it over his head to cool off instead. He hadn’t had fantasies about a woman for years. What was it about her that set him off?

  He figured he’d find out tomorrow, if she kept her word and came by work. Part of him hoped she wouldn’t, that he’d never see her again. He didn’t like feeling so out of control.

  He drained the bottle and left it on the coffee table, deciding to try for some sleep again. He only hoped the lovely Olivia would keep out of his dreams.

  Chapter Four

  The following morning, Liv stopped by the spa to check up on her employees and have Marissa cut and color her hair. Mike thought she was a brunette, and she didn’t want to wear that blasted wig even one more hour. It’d be easier just to color her hair for a few days. She wouldn’t be seeing her father or Geoff until Sunday, and by then this insanity would be over and she’d have it dyed back to its normal platinum shade.

  Cheri, the receptionist, greeted her with a smile. “Miss Leigh, I have room two reserved for you. Marissa will be with you shortly.”

  “Perfect, Cheri, thank you. I’ll let myself in.”

  Liv strolled down the hallway to her room, pleased to note most of the other rooms were occupied. Her clients were offered complete privacy for their time at the spa, with their assigned specialist coming to them. The hundred-year-old Victorian mansion was adapted to be a quaint place with rooms designed to handle any treatment requested, from a haircut to a massage to a manicure. If clients wanted lunch, however, they did need to go to an intimate dining room set up in the old kitchen. They could choose to join any other clients out there, or select a private single booth.

  Liv allowed only a small number of treatments each day. It gave Pamper Me an exclusive feel, and with exclusivity came high demand and high prices.

  Business was good.

  She let herself into room two and closed the door. Before she had a chance to relax, her cell phone beeped once, indicating a text message had been received. It was from Geoff, and she retrieved it immediately. It was short and to the point.

  Missing you. Back soon. Love, G.

  “Lying jerk!” The serenity of her morning was destroyed, and she threw her purse across the room. “You rotten coward.” When Liv saw the trail of items strewn across the floor she instantly regretted her unusual tantrum. She picked up the scattered belongings on her way to where the bag lay against a chair leg. She never lost her temper, and she pondered the fact she’d expressed more emotion in the past twenty-four hours than she had the whole rest of her life. Decorum was something she’d had drilled into her brain and behavior from the time she was born.

  She replaced all the items into her pocketbook and set it gently down alongside the massage table. Maybe a good rub-down would be the answer. She had a couple of hours before she was supposed to meet Mike at his work.

  Marissa stepped quietly into the room and smiled at Liv. “Haircut and color today?” Liv nodded and settled into the chair in front of the sink. “The usual?”

  “Not this time. I want it to look like the wig you loaned me yesterday.”

  Marissa raised her eyebrows. “What are you up to?”

  Liv pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I’ll need your car for a few more days, too, if that’s okay.”

  Marissa shrugged. “It’s no hardship for me to drive the Miata. But, Liv, do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Of course. I always know what I’m doing.” She waved off the question and changed the subject. “Do you have time to give me a massage this morning, too?” One of Marissa’s most valuable assets as an employee was the fact she was cross-trained in so many specialties. She was in high demand by Pamper Me clients.

  “Along with your pedicure?” Marissa paused and her eyes swiveled toward the ceiling while she mentally calculated the time needed. “I can squeeze in a thirty minute one without making me late for my next appointment. Will that work?”

  “Perfect. I’m a bit tense this morning.”

  “Okay, let’s get started.” Marissa pushed Liv gently back and turned the water on to wet her hair.

  Two hours later, Liv felt—and looked—like a new woman. Even though it was her duplicity of the day before that necessitated the hair color change, she really enjoyed the look. The shorter style was flattering and simple to care for, and Liv liked how it fluttered around her ears and her eyebrows, as opposed to the neat chignon she usually wore. Her father would hate it, so hopefully Liv would figure out a way to wear it up until it grew out again.

  Outside, Liv scooted into the worn sedan. Her first stop was the Rockingham mall to purchase clothing for the next few days. Marissa had told her where all the college girls shopped, and that’s where Liv decided to go. It seemed odd to buy her clothes from a bulk supplier instead of a boutique, and she wasn’t at all comfortable about selecting them on her own.

  Her father had standing orders at a couple of places in Boston and New York, and Liv automatically received a new wardrobe from them each season. It was another reason she had to be careful her measurements didn’t change, since the boutiques had her exact size on file.

  Just over an hour later she hurried to the sedan, loaded down with purchases. It had been fun to shop for herself, and she made a mental note to keep it up. Daddy would just have to understand.

  A quick glance at her watch told her she was running a bit behind schedule, so she jumped into the car and sped away to Salem and Doug’s Import Auto Shop.

  Mike had given perfect directions and Liv pulled in front of the beat-up building, snagging a spot right in front. She pushed open the front door and stepped inside. She looked around, never having set foot inside an auto shop before, and found it small but surprisingly neat. No one was there to greet her, and country music blared from the garage loud enough to mask any throat clearing or other subtle way she could let Mike know she was here, waiting.

  She leaned far over the counter, in the hope someone would see her, to no avail. She looked at the desk again and saw no sign of a bell or other device for beckoning help.

  Finally, at her wits’ end, she leaned back over the tall wooden counter and cleared her throat. “Excuse me? Is anyone there?” she called, a bit louder than her normal speaking voice. The
re was no response. She drew a deep breath, close to tears. Her father would be horrified at the behavior she was considering, but she saw no other alternative. “Hello?” she bellowed, then leaped back and blushed furiously. The pride from the fact she’d done it was a surprise and she bathed in the feeling while she waited.

  After a moment, a man’s greasy face peered in from the garage.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m looking for Mike.” She folded her hands primly and smiled.

  “All the pretty ones are. Hang on.”

  She waited for only a few moments before Mike appeared in the doorway. With a loud snapping sound, he removed a pair of neon blue latex gloves. His hands were bright white next to the grease smeared on his arms from the wrists on up to his sleeves.

  “Hey, Livvy. You made it.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  “I did wonder.” He squatted behind the counter and rummaged around for endless moments until Liv couldn’t stand it.

  “What are you doing?” She pushed up to straight arms on the dirty wooden surface and leaned far enough over to see. He’d pulled out a locked cash box and couldn’t seem to open it. He cursed under his breath, whacked it on the concrete floor a few times and then stood up suddenly, head-butting Liv.

  She tumbled back from the counter with a small cry and fell onto her rear. She stayed where she was for a minute, not sure whether she should laugh or cry.

  Mike circled around and grabbed her arms, yanking her to her feet. “That’s three… stick around long enough, you’ll get a concussion for sure. Are you okay?”

  “Not bad, except for the fact you have a head made out of granite.”

  He smiled widely and gave her forehead a gentle rub where he’d slammed into it. “I’ve been told that before. Give me a minute to break this open.” He wiggled the cash box before disappearing into the shop.

  Liv took the time to rub all the parts of her body that hurt, giving special attention to her rear-end and forehead. At this rate, she’d need to start wearing a helmet when she spent time with Mike.

  He reappeared in the doorway and waved a plastic card. “This is for the grocery store. I put a couple hundred on there, but you probably won’t need that much.”

  She took the card and turned it over in her hand a few times, thinking of the two-hundred-dollar dinner she had just a few nights before. And Mike expected her to buy a week’s worth of groceries with such a small amount of money.

  “Okay,” she agreed. But doubt edged her voice.

  If he noticed, it didn’t show. He held out a piece of paper. “I also wrote down a few things I’d like to have on hand, as well as some meals I like. I thought it might help.”

  She smiled brightly at him. “It will. Thanks.” She turned to go but he called her name, stopping her. “Yes?”

  “You forgot this.” He tossed something to her and she caught it reflexively.

  It was a single key attached to a fuchsia rabbit’s foot key chain. “What’s this?”

  “The key to my apartment. I’ll be home around six.”

  Six. That gave her about five hours. She’d secretly arranged for a maid to come tomorrow while Mike worked, but she’d have to at least straighten up a bit on her own tonight.

  Five hours. That should give her time shop, cook, clean and sneak into Daisy’s to check out how the competition lived. She gave Mike a slow smile, pleased at how things had turned out so far. “See you at six.”

  The grocery store was just down the street, and Liv pulled in, parked and sat in the car looking at Mike’s list. Most of it was easy enough: milk, bread, eggs, beer, chips. She thought she could handle that.

  It was the meals that mystified her. What was in meatloaf besides meat? She dropped her head against the steering wheel, thumping it a few times for good measure. Just as she figured she’d have to fess up to her duplicity, a van pulled in beside her: a young mother with three children. She watched as the woman pulled out a cart from the cart return beside her, plopped the middle child in the front, strapped the baby to some contraption on her chest and grabbed the hand of the oldest.

  Liv was fascinated by how well the mother managed. She was clearly an organizer, capable, and most likely an experienced shopper. And based on the state of her van and the clothes she and her children wore, she could use a bit of help financially.

  Liv leaped out of the car and trotted after the family of four, hoping she wouldn’t come across as too strange. She didn’t want the woman to think Liv was out to kidnap her kids or something, heaven forbid. Liv did not like children, had never been around them and didn’t have a clue what to do with them.

  She caught up with the family just outside the door, and tapped the mother on her shoulder. “Excuse me.”

  The woman turned and looked at Liv. “Yes?”

  “This is going to sound really strange, but…” Liv paused, trying to make certain she pled her case well so the lady wouldn’t say no. “It’s a little crazy, but, I have this meal list and this money—” She brandished the piece of paper and the gift card. “And I could use some help.”

  The lady bounced the baby at her chest when it started to fuss, still maintaining her grip on the older boy. “I’m sorry. But what do you expect from me?”

  “If you know what’s in a meatloaf or any of this other stuff, you could really save my life. If I offer to pay for your groceries today, will you take me through the store and show me what I need?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. Do you have any idea how much I spend here?” She looked at her kids. “These are just the youngest in my brood. I have three more in school and a very hungry husband.”

  Liv waved a hand in the air, dismissing the woman’s concerns. “Money isn’t a problem; my lack of experience is. Will you please help me?”

  The lady stared long and hard, finally heaving a sigh. “I’m Meg. This is Samuel, Molly and Peter.”

  “I’m Liv.” She shook Meg’s outstretched hand, wishing it wouldn’t be rude to pull out a wipe afterward. Liv was pretty sure there were remnants of baby drool on the woman’s hand. “What do I do first?”

  Ninety minutes later and several hundred dollars poorer, Liv emerged from the grocery store, triumphant. She had in her purse four recipes to go along with the meals Mike requested, and a cart full of food. She also had Meg’s phone number should she run into any trouble. Despite the fact she’d had to deal with Samuel—he’d latched on to her hand and refused to let go—it had been a successful journey.

  She felt good. Competent. She’d never realized how much she relied on the help of others to get through her day, and how much work and brain power people used for menial tasks.

  She loaded up the sedan, pushing aside her clothing purchases to make room for groceries. Then she pulled out a disinfectant wipe and cleaned her hands before starting on her way to Mike’s apartment. She still had just over three hours. She could do this.

  Meg had advised her on basic cleaning tools and how to load and run a dishwasher, so Liv figured she could tidy up a bit. To ease her burden though, she pulled into a local restaurant and ordered dinner to go. She’d just plop the food into some of Mike’s dishes and call it done.

  By the time she arrived at Mike’s apartment complex, she was starving. The smell of roasted chicken filled the car, and she knew she’d have to break down and eat something before he got home.

  It reminded her a bit of when her father had let her start dating at seventeen. Before her escort picked her up, she’d eat a small meal so she wouldn’t wolf down food in front of the poor boy. Daddy told her, time and again, image was everything, and she had to eat like a bird. That made the endless dinner parties she was required to attend just another form of torture.

  She couldn’t find a spot close to the entrance of the apartment complex, and ended up parking around the corner like she had the day before. She popped the trunk, looked at the huge amount of bags and realized she’d have to make more than one trip to get
it all in.

  She tried to think of it as a workout, considering she’d missed her appointment with her personal trainer the past two days. It would be good for her.

  Just as she’d looped the handles of four grocery bags around her arms, two on each appendage, Spike appeared on the sidewalk. His nose lifted in the air and Liv knew if the chicken smelled good to her, it smelled ten times better to that beast.

  He trotted toward her and she stifled a scream, tugging at the car door a few times before it opened and she dove in, hoping dinner wasn’t ruined. She’d just slammed the door shut when Spike’s head appeared in the window. He woofed once, a low—and, Liv was certain—threatening sound.

  “Go away.”

  He just wagged his tail and licked the window. His wide tongue spread across the glass, looking like the bottom of a snail in an aquarium. A really big snail.

  “Ick.” Liv couldn’t pull her gaze from the dog drool that oozed down to the top of the door. “Go away,” she demanded, louder this time.

  What was she going to do? There was no Mike around to save her this time. Desperate, she pulled out a bag of nacho-cheese tortilla chips and opened them. She did her best thinking when she was eating or soaking in the tub. Since Marissa’s car wasn’t equipped with indoor plumbing, a bath wasn’t an option, so she started stuffing chips in her mouth. After the first couple bites—heaven should be this good—she noticed the dog’s gaze was fixed on the sustenance. She wondered if a light bulb appeared over her head the moment she realized what she could do.

  She opened up the box of meatballs Mike had requested, rolled down the driver’s side door opposite where Spike stood, and whistled to get the dog’s attention. He jumped up from across the way, plopped his paws on the hood of the car and slobbered enough to make for a decent car wash. Liv made sure he saw the food in her hand and then threw it with all the strength she had—one meatball, two and then three, all in different directions. She was glad they were still mostly frozen, because those babies really flew.