WILD ZONE, A Rough Riders Hockey Novel

by Skye Jordan

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know Liv was bringing anyone over.”

  Olivia glanced at Tate, then to her sister she said, “Tate asked to come over so he could talk with you—”

  “Quinn, is that Olivia?” Their mother’s voice floated down the stairs. The women’s gazes locked and Tate witnessed—or maybe felt, he wasn’t sure—a hell of a lot of silent communication between them.

  Olivia, standing at the bottom of the stairs, broke Quinn’s gaze to look toward the voice. “I’m home.”

  “Oh, great. How did your talk with Tate go?”

  Olivia shot a death stare at Quinn, who crossed her arms and looked at the floor.

  “What did he think of your menu suggestions?” their mother prodded.

  Olivia glanced at Tate, but she was putting puzzle pieces together.

  When Olivia didn’t answer, her mother called again. “Olivia?”

  “I loved them Mrs. Essex.”

  Tate’s answer pulled both Quinn and Olivia out of whatever silent war they were battling.

  “Mr. Donovan?” Footsteps sounded on the stairs and as soon as Teresa cleared the second floor, she bent to peer over the banister. “Well, hello.”

  He grinned. “Please call me Tate. I was just dropping Olivia home and wanted to come in and tell you myself that I’m completely comfortable with Olivia handling the catering at the banquet.”

  “How thoughtful of you.” She continued down the stairs and moved forward to shake his hand.

  “Your home is absolutely beautiful,” he told her.

  She beamed and her daughter’s blue eyes twinkled back at him. “Thank you. We love this place.”

  “It shows.”

  “Well,” Olivia said, “I’ll just let you three talk. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  Olivia’s eyes met his for a second before she moved into the other room, but he couldn’t quite read her thoughts. Tate slipped into socializing mode, something he didn’t love, but had learned for the publicity part of his career. He did his best to soothe any nerves the two women might have over his commitment to the project, glossed over the “menu choices” he and Olivia had allegedly been discussing. Somehow their orgasmic menu of fingering, oral sex, taking her hard and deep from behind and multiple orgasms probably weren’t what Teresa and Quinn wanted to hear.

  Quinn remained quiet, responding only when Teresa cajoled a response.

  Teresa’s phone rang. “Oh, dear, I’m sorry.”

  “Perfectly fine,” Tate told her. “I’m headed home.”

  She shook his hand and answered her phone as she wandered down the hall and into another room.

  “Well, I better help Olivia—“ Quinn started.

  “One second, Quinn.”

  She froze and stiffened, clearly locked and loaded for battle.

  “I just want to put your mind at ease regarding things between me and Olivia.”

  “That’s none of my—”

  “That’s not what you thought when you sent Olivia to set boundaries with me.”

  She sipped a breath and pressed her lips together.

  “I have been impressed with the work you and Teresa have done to date. I have heard nothing but fabulous things about Essex from everyone I’ve talked to. And I hired you before Olivia ever came to town. Anything that’s happening between Olivia and me is outside the scope of Essex. Nothing that happens with Olivia—good or bad—will color how I feel about your services, your company, you or your mother. I have the ability to see them separately.”

  She searched his eyes, seemed to weigh her words. “She’s leaving. You know that right? I don’t know what you’re looking for, but from everything I’ve heard about you, Olivia’s style isn’t yours. I hope you’re not fooling yourself into thinking you’ll change her mind. She never stays. No matter how much we want her to stay, no matter what we do, she never stays.”

  That knocked a little chunk of his heart loose. But he nodded accepting reality. “I do know. She’s been crystal clear about where she stands. And I’ve taken that into consideration. But…” he glanced at the floor, not sure what he wanted to say or how to say it, so he just let it come out, “I am crazy about her. And the way I feel when I’m with her is something I don’t want to miss out on just because I may hurt when she’s gone.”

  Quinn looked away, exhaled and her shoulders slid lower, her whole posture one of disappointment and dismay. “Fine. It’s your life. As long as it doesn’t affect mom and the company.” She met his gaze once more. “Goodnight.”

  Quinn disappeared up the stairs. Tate stood there a second, listening to Olivia’s movements in the kitchen just a few feet away and Teresa’s buoyant voice muffled in another room, wondering what the fuck happened to this family.

  He wandered into the kitchen and watched Olivia a minute while she glanced at grocery items, reading ingredients and segregating different things in different areas on the granite countertops. Her movements were efficient, her hands quick.

  She paused, sighed and combed her hands through her hair. Then collected the pale strands into a tail, wound it round and round, then pulled an end through the center, securing a bun without a clip in seconds. She’d clearly done it thousands of times.

  He walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her. She gasped and jumped, trying to push away, exactly the way he’d expected her to.

  “Shh,” he whispered at her ear, his eyes sliding closed on the exquisite feel of her against him. Instantly bringing back memories of some of the hottest sex of his entire life just an hour before. “Quinn’s upstairs, and your mom’s on the phone in the other room. I’m just saying goodbye.”

  She relaxed against him, slid her hands over his arms and turn her head, leaning into him. That small show of affection and acceptance opened a stream of warmth through him.

  “How’d Quinn take it?” she asked.

  “She heard me.” He kissed her neck. “But I’d be prepared for fallout. She’s as stubborn as you, but not near as easy going or happy with life.”

  Olivia sighed. “Well, at this point I don’t think it could hurt much between us.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. I know how it feels when your sister is shooting daggers at you every time you see her.”

  She closed her eyes and groaned. Then spontaneously turned into him and wrapped her arms around him. The move stunned Tate. He held her tight, soaking in the feel of her face pressed to his neck. The feel of her needing him, even if it was only for a few seconds. Because he hadn’t felt this good, this whole, this complete, in years.

  “Take me with you.” Olivia’s whisper was so soft, he would have thought he’d imagined it if he hadn’t also felt her breath on his skin. “I don’t want to do this alone anymore.”

  Another chunk of his heart broke away. He was feeling painfully grateful to Quinn at that moment. If she hadn’t reminded him of how rooted Olivia was somewhere else, this woman could so easily make him forget she was going to shatter his heart in about a week. But Quinn was right. Olivia may need a little lovin’ to get through the rough spots, but when she was solid, she didn’t need anyone.

  He hugged her tight. “I’m right here. You’re not alone. If you need interference, pick up the phone.”

  Olivia watched Tate’s truck pull away from the curb through the side window at the door, with something bizarre gnawing and twisting in her gut. She couldn’t reconcile these crazy feelings.

  To settle herself, she through the segments of her life. She was stressed over school approaching—there wasn’t much she could do about that. But just to reassure herself, she pressed her back to the front door pulled her phone from her pocket and tapped into the app for her bank account. The payment for a catering job she’d done in Tuscany had been deposited. She had the fifteen percent she needed to live up to her responsibilities in the scholarship agreement. Which was good, because it was due in about a week and a half.

  Olivia took a deep breath, filling her lungs. She pushed the pho
ne back into her pocket and looked up the stairs. Quinn wasn’t nearly as simple or clear cut. And Olivia was beginning to realize she and her sister may never reclaim the unbreakable bond that had been painfully severed a decade ago. Her heart felt heavy. For the first time, she wished she had someone to talk to about it. Tate would be a great listener. He’d be compassionate, but honest. With his recent problems in his own family, he might even have valuable insight for her. But opening up a personal line of communication like that could lead him to the wrong conclusion, and she didn’t want to give him any false hope.

  She closed her eyes, dropped her head back against the door and thought of her tiny flat in Bastille. Of her neighbors, Vivienne and Leila, who were picking up her mail. Of her coworkers, Gautier and Jean-Marc, who were sharing the shifts she was missing by staying longer. Of the cobblestone streets, her favorite cafes and their owners who’d become woven into the fabric of her life. Longed for the serenity of everything she knew and found comfortable.

  “Is it time to go home yet?”

  But her heart tugged. There was no Tate in Paris.

  “Livvy?” Her mother’s voice startled her. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure, sure.” She straightened. “Just making a mental list. Hey do you have a minute? I really need to talk to you.”

  She took a nervous glance at her watch. “Well, I have a meeting with a senator and his wife about a Christening in forty-five minutes across town, and at this time of night…”

  “It won’t take long.”

  Her mother smiled and followed Olivia into the kitchen where they sat at a small table in a bay window that overlooked the back yard where Olivia had played all her life.

  “I was talking to Quinn about the business, and I realized that I may not have explained over the years how much experience I have in restaurant management.”

  Her mother’s gaze was attentive and concerned.

  “And I wanted you to know that I’ve worked with some of the best restaurateurs in Europe over the years. Learned so much about management and finances from top businessmen in the restaurant industry who have huge catering businesses.”

  “That’s fantastic.” Her mother’s expression brightened. “Honey, I really want you to think about coming home once school is finished. You’ve been gone so long. If you don’t want to join our company, you could have a very lucrative catering company of your own. Or you could get a job as an executive chef at one of the dozens of five star restaurants in the city. DC is nothing if not a food and party mecca.”

  Olivia shook her head. “No, mom, I’m talking about your business. I’m worried about your business—”

  “No, Livvy, no.” She covered Olivia’s hand with her own, smiling. “Honey, this is the most business we’ve seen since we’ve started. This is fabulous. A huge upturn in our sales and events. Once we get through this first wave, we’ll have the capital to pay off debt, hire employees and expand.” She padded Olivia’s hand. “Baby, you won’t have to send money home anymore.” She cupped her cheek. “You’re sweet to worry, and there were times in the past when it was hard, but we’re on the upswing.”

  Her mother wasn’t hearing her, and Olivia saw the disaster waiting in the road ahead.

  She clasped her fingers around her mothers and smiled. “That’s fantastic. You and Quinn have worked so hard for this and I’m so happy to see you finally getting some wind beneath your wings. I just want you to know is that growing too fast can be as detrimental to a business as not growing at all.”

  She gave Olivia a disparaging look. “Olivia, don’t be ridiculous.”

  This. This was the problem. “I’m serious, mom. I’ve seen it happen with my own eyes. I’ve had businessmen tell me it has happened to them. Research it. Ask other business owners. If you grow too fast, if you overcommit before the infrastructure of the business can handle it, you’ll topple, and it could take the whole company down.”

  Her mother sighed, clearly unhappy with Olivia’s message. “I know you’re worried because you care, honey, but I don’t believe in negativity—”

  “This isn’t negativity, it’s reality.”

  Teresa glanced at her watch. “I have to go or I’ll be late.”

  When her mother stood, Olivia pushed to her feet and stepped in her path. “I’ve done the numbers. Based on the jobs you’ve taken on over the last month and the number you continue to add every day, you’re already leaning toward catastrophe like the tower of Pizza.”

  “Olivia,” her mother scolded. “Enough.”

  She didn’t care if her mother was angry, because Olivia was angry too. Angry because she was scared. She saw her mother and sister headed toward the edge of a cliff for the promise of a sparkling diamond on the other side ready to walk off the edge with nothing to save them but the faith that a bridge would appear.

  “It’s not enough until you hear me.” Olivia continued talking while her mother walked around her toward the front door. “With just you and Quinn running this company, with no financial backing, you’re already juggling too many jobs. Every job you take on from this point adds another brick to the top of that tumbling tower. All it takes is one job to go wrong and everything—everything—will spiral out of control.”

  When her mother turned the doorknob without acknowledging her, Olivia slapped her hand against the door.

  Now, her sister wasn’t the only member of her family shooting daggers.

  Still, Olivia held her ground. This was her only chance to say her piece. She would never forgive herself if she returned to France without at least warning them. Whether or not they took her advice was up to them.

  “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I love you and Quinn and it’s important for someone to tell you that if you don’t pull back now, while you still can, you could lose your entire business in the blink of an eye. Think about it, mom. Then what would you have?”

  Her mother jerked the door open, jarring Olivia’s arm, walked out and slammed it behind her.

  Pain coiled in her bicep and shoulder and she reached around to rub at the burn. “Fuck.”

  The ache dug deep into the muscle and broke Olivia’s last thread of strength. Her pained grimace turned to sobs on a dime and before she knew what was happening, she was leaning against the wall, her face against her forearm, balling.

  “Livvy.” Her sister’s soft voice registered first, then Quinn’s hand on her shoulder.

  Olivia startled and turned while stepping away. She put one hand against the wall to balance, her breathing choppy through ragged tears. “M-mom…” She couldn’t get her thoughts together. Couldn’t keep the tears from falling. She pushed her hands against her eyes and shook her head. “Mom d-didn’t li-i-sten. Now she’s ma-a-d.”

  The overly simplistic words made her feel three-years-old again, and just as inept. Just as out of control. And Olivia couldn’t stop the tears when they started again. Sobbing, she bent at the waist, crossing her arms over the pain.

  “Livvy.” Quinn crouched and brushed her hair aside, rubbing at Olivia’s wet cheeks. “You did the right thing. You told her what she needed to hear even though it was hard for both of you.”

  Olivia couldn’t think. She was overwrought with emotion. She slid to the floor and dropped her head back against the wall, trying to regulate her breathing to control the tears. But then Quinn sat next to her and pulled her into her arms and Olivia started balling all over again.

  She had no idea how long it took her to empty out. The pain was still tumbling inside her, but her eyes were dry. Dry and swollen and stinging. Olivia could hardly keep them open. She rested her head on her knees and Quinn sat with her, hip to hip, thigh to thigh, her fingers combing through her hair, the way they used to as kids—while watching TV, reading books, coloring, trying to fall asleep.

  She took a shaky breath. “I miss you.” The words came out weak and broken. Olivia cleared her throat. “I miss us. I miss the way we used to be.”

  “Me t
oo.” Quinn leaned her head against Olivia’s and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry.”

  Olivia sighed. Just the small break in the wall between them seemed to release pressure in her chest. “Why?”

  “Tate said something tonight…it made me realize that I’ve been pushing you away all these years. I didn’t even really know why.”

  She lifted her head and wiped her face. Quinn loosened her arms and when Olivia pulled back, she saw Quinn had been crying too. She rubbed at her sister’s wet cheeks. “What do you mean?”

  “Tonight, he said that the way he feels when he’s with you is too good to give up even knowing he’ll hurt when you leave.”

  Her breath stuttered and another wave of tears pushed to her eyes. “He…said that?”

  “Yeah. And it made me realize that I’ve been pushing you away for exactly that reason. Losing you has hurt so much, that when you’re home I don’t want to let you close because I know you’re going to leave again. But after Tate said that, I realized I’ve wasted years holding you away.”

  Her voice grew frail and her tears joined Olivia’s as her head dropped against her sister’s. “I don’t want to do that anymore, Liv.”

  Olivia snaked her arms around Quinn’s waist and hugged her tight, nodding against her sister’s head. “Me either.” She exhaled heavily and spontaneously asked, “Want to come live in France with me? I bet you’d love it.”

  Quinn started laughing, which made Olivia laugh, too. “Yeah, I really do.” She pulled away and looked at Olivia. “But lets get mom on her feet first, so we can just have fun.”

  “Deal.”

  Quinn released Olivia and pushed to her feet. Then she offered her hand. “Come on. I’ll let you boss me around in the kitchen.”

  9

  Tate wandered among the tables on the covered deck at the Croft’s home and picked up empty trays as inconspicuously as possible. They gave him a reason to visit Olivia in the kitchen even though every time he did, she told him he distracted her. But as the day wore on and more guests arrived, Tate had discovered more and more men hanging out in the kitchen chatting with her when he wandered in. Men clearly interested in more than her cooking skills.