by A. E. Radley
She knew Olivia had had feelings for her once. In London, that had been very clear. But when Emily had asked Olivia to speak with Henry, she’d made it clear that it was simply for Henry. That she didn’t want it to mean anything between them. The problem was, now she was falling for Olivia again. Not for the repayment of her debts—in fact, absolutely not for that. She was falling for Olivia because of the way she’d defended Henry from Seb, the way she was with him generally, and the way she’d dropped everything to help with the lawyer. Olivia, as a friend, had done more for Emily and Henry than any of her previous partners.
She couldn’t deny that she had been attracted to Olivia in London. It was hard not to be. Chocolate-brown eyes, dark flowing hair, a perfectly proportioned body. Olivia Lewis was definitely easy on the eyes. But since reconnecting, Emily was seeing another side—the caring side. Her attraction to Olivia now was not founded on looks, but in actions.
She had to make a decision. Right now she was walking a fine line; not in a relationship with Olivia, but not just a friend either. It wasn’t fair to anyone. Emily was reluctant to enter a real relationship in case things went wrong and Henry suffered more. But she knew the flip side was that Henry would be ecstatically happy to be a family with Olivia. If things worked out. Emily found herself constantly wondering just how big an “if” that was. She never gambled; she always took the most sensible route, the path that seemed most secure. But a leap of faith would be required if she was going to try to make a go of things with Olivia.
That was, of course, if Olivia even wanted to try again. Had she pushed Olivia too far? Had she come to her senses and realised that she could do better than an unemployed single mother who had no idea what was happening with her life? An unemployed single mother who might have just met a theatre producer who, against all the odds, thought she could write.
The sludge that was Emily’s thought process groaned. She knew that she should, in theory, be ecstatic. Her debts were paid, she was away from a job where she was monitored by the man who was trying to take her son, her court case looked better, and she had met a professional who had told her she could write. She should be cartwheeling her way back to the hotel, but she was still in shock. Everything had happened so quickly. In just a few days, her life had gone from absolute disaster with seemingly no chance of escape to something beyond her wildest dreams.
The problem with things beyond your wildest dreams was the disbelief. Emily’s brain simply wasn’t wired to take so much good news. She was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to tell her that it had all been a big mistake. For her life to fall apart around her ears again. She stopped dead in the lobby of the hotel as a thought hit her.
She wasn’t dancing for joy because she expected the worst, but she wasn’t fearful either. For the first time in many years, she had someone in her life who would stand by her no matter what. Despite not being in a relationship, she knew with absolute certainty that Olivia would be there for her. No matter what.
She realised that people were staring at her as she had her epiphany. She shook her head and quickly headed towards the elevators. Her brain struggled with the weight of her revelation as she anxiously tapped her foot on the elevator floor.
At the suite door, Simon welcomed her in. She said hello to Nicole and then quickly scanned the room for Henry. Nicole silently stood and gestured for Emily to follow her. When they got to Olivia’s bedroom, Nicole nudged the door open, and they both looked in.
Henry was curled up against Olivia’s side, Olivia holding him tightly while they both slept. If Emily had any remaining doubts about her feelings for Olivia, they quickly floated away.
“Simon and I were terrible at looking after him, so Olivia took over. We heard the mumblings of them talking for about half an hour before it went quiet,” Nicole whispered.
Emily smiled. “Olivia once told me that she wasn’t good with children.”
“I think it rather depends on the child,” Nicole replied.
“She loves Henry,” Emily acknowledged with a slow nod of her head. Her eyes were still fixed on the bed.
“Not just Henry.”
Emily felt her cheeks heat as she stared at Nicole in surprise. “Maybe she used to. I think I’ve…well. I think it’s too late now.”
“Why have you never sent a script to an agent?” Nicole asked.
Emily blinked and blew out a breath, the change in topic taking her off guard. “Um, well, I kind of always thought that if I did, then someone who knows what they’re talking about would tell me I’m terrible. I could pretend that I was good in my own little headspace.”
“But, due to an extraordinary series of events, I saw your script. And I’m telling you again, it’s wonderful. But the problem is that extraordinary series of events are rare. Sometimes you have to take a chance.”
“I know.” Emily let out a nervous sigh.
“Simon and I are going to pop out for something to eat. I suggest that you two talk properly.”
Nicole turned and started to walk away, but Emily reached out and gently held her arm. Nicole turned to look at her, and Emily smiled gratefully.
“Thank you. I needed the pep talk.”
Nicole smiled and squeezed Emily’s hand. “The most terrible reactions are generally created in our own mind, through fear. You know that.”
Emily nodded and watched as Nicole walked into the living room, threw a coat to Simon, and hurried him out of the room. When they’d left, Emily turned to look at Olivia and Henry again. She smiled and stepped into the room, wishing she could preserve the moment forever. It didn’t seem right to take a picture, so she stared at the scene, trying to capture every detail and lock it up tightly in her mind’s eye.
She sat on the bed opposite Henry, and tentatively reached out to tuck a stray curl of hair behind Olivia’s ear. Olivia’s eyes flickered open to look at Emily in confusion. Emily softly placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder to keep her in place and gestured towards her sleeping son with her head. Olivia looked at Henry and then back to Emily, fondness and understanding in her eyes.
“How are you feeling?” Emily asked, her voice barely above a whisper; she had to sit close to be sure that Olivia heard her.
“Tired, but better than I was.”
“I’m sorry Henry disturbed you.”
“He didn’t. I fetched him when I heard that he was upset. Where did you go?”
Emily knew that Olivia needed the information, but she also knew that now was most definitely not the time. “Nothing to worry about now. Thank you for looking after him.”
“He’s a wonderful boy,” Olivia whispered, the words so easily slipping from her mouth but so steadfast in their meaning.
Emily leaned forward and placed a soft but firm kiss on Olivia’s lips, knowing actions would speak louder than words. Although she was aware that, with Olivia, she would also need to explain her actions in detail.
Sure enough, when Emily pulled back, there was a confused look on Olivia’s face. It was up to her to clarify what was happening, what she wanted to happen. Simon’s words echoed in her head, and she understood that it was up to her to alter her behaviour because Olivia was unable to, no matter how much she might want to.
“You have become very precious to me, Olivia Lewis.”
Olivia’s frown deepened, her confusion growing.
“It’s not just Henry who missed you.”
A spark of recognition and hope shone in Olivia’s eyes.
“I know I have no right to ask you this. I’ve treated you terribly, but I’d—”
“Yes, anything,” Olivia whispered.
Emily chuckled. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“The last time you asked me something and I agreed without knowing what it was, we ended up here.”
“Everything’s happening very fast, and I’m a bit of a mess at the moment,” Emily admitted. She lightly brushed her fingers through Olivia’s hair, wanting to feel
closer to her but not wanting to kiss her again with Henry so close. “But you’ve become such an important person in my life, and in Henry’s life too.”
Olivia looked at Henry, who had started to squirm.
“Mommy?”
“I’m here, Henry.”
He crawled from Olivia’s embrace and put his arms out to Emily. She reached out and pulled him across Olivia gently and into her own lap, where he cuddled into her.
Olivia looked at them with wild eyes, clearly wanting to know what Emily had been about to say and cursing the interruption. She looked pleadingly at Emily, who chuckled softly.
“What I was going to say is, when you’re feeling better, maybe we could go to dinner?” Emily said in a low tone, so as not to disturb Henry.
“Dinner?”
“A date. If you’re willing?”
Olivia quickly nodded her agreement. A moment later, her face clouded over and Emily could practically see the cogs in her brain whirring.
“But—”
“A fresh start,” Emily interjected. She knew Olivia was replaying every conversation they’d previously had. The mixed messages, the push and pull.
“A fresh start.” Olivia smiled.
CHAPTER 33
Two relatively quiet days passed for Emily after she left Olivia’s hotel room—with reassurances that she’d be back soon. She chuckled to herself as she remembered gently, but firmly, ordering Olivia to focus on her recovery. It was hard to be apart, but Emily knew she needed time. Processing everything that had happened wasn’t going to be an easy task, but it was essential. If she was going to embark on a new life, then she owed it to herself, Henry, and Olivia to be sure she was ready.
So while she left Olivia to recover, Emily spent her time organising her life. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she organised her financial affairs. Between the severance payment she’d received from Crown and the money from the journalist, she was actually in credit. For the first time in years, she had money in the bank and no immediate debts to focus on.
She’d taken the box of paperwork back from Olivia, noting happily how meticulously organised it was. Checking every document, she confirmed that everything was paid up before she gleefully shredded them and cut the old credit cards into pieces. The relief was palpable.
The previous day, she’d enlisted Henry’s assistance. She’d handed him a piece of paper and watched with a smile as he’d walked over to the electric shredder and carefully fed the document into the machine, keeping his fingers out of the way as he did. As soon as he was done, she gleefully handed him another piece.
“This one too?” Henry asked.
“That one too,” Emily confirmed, watching her now-healthy son feed the statement of the card she’d primarily used for food into the machine.
Her hand was already holding the next piece of paper when Henry turned around and regarded her with a sigh. He didn’t understand why shredding the papers was so cathartic to her.
“More?”
“More, many more.” She leaned forward and kissed his head as he took the next one. “Remember to mind your fingers.”
“’Kay,” Henry said as he carefully fed the next sheet in. “Why, though?”
“Because these are bills that have been paid, so we don’t need them anymore.” She knew he probably wouldn’t understand, but he’d only learn by asking questions.
It was as if someone had opened the windows in an attic that had been closed up for eons. Emily felt lighter. Every breath she took was fresher. Of course she’d known she was stressed, but she’d had no idea how much it had affected her in everyday life. Now she woke up feeling refreshed, as if she’d actually slept rather than just laid down, and her neck didn’t crack every time she turned her head.
Henry had immediately detected and reacted to the change. He was brighter, happier. It hurt to think that her depression had become so all-consuming that she’d unknowingly dragged him down. Suddenly the correlation between her happiness and his was much easier to see.
She was pulled from her memories by her phone vibrating in her pocket. It was a text.
I left Seb this morning and will be out of town for a few days until things calm down. Please send Henry my love, if you think it is appropriate. Irene.
Emily worried her lip. She could only imagine how hard it had been for Irene to leave her husband of so many years, even if he was as bad as Seb. Her heart clenched as she replied.
I’ll pass your message on to Henry. I know he’ll enjoy having his grandmother in his life. Things went okay?
She didn’t know if Irene would feel comfortable sharing those kinds of details with her, but she wanted to offer a shoulder, if not to cry on then at least to unburden herself. The reply was quick.
It was as I expected. I’m glad I was prepared and didn’t have to hang around. I’m also glad I’m away from him, even if the next few days will prove to be unpleasant. I have to look to the future. Thank you for letting me see you and Henry as a part of that future.
Emily read the message a few times. Irene hadn’t gone into detail, but between her message and Emily’s knowledge of Seb, she assumed it hadn’t been an amicable exchange. She looked forward to things settling down. Henry deserved some downtime with his grandmother. It wouldn’t be easy to change Henry’s initial perceptions, but Emily was determined to forge a bond between them.
A few hours later, Emily received a phone call from her lawyer to confirm that Seb had dropped the custody case. She walked into the living room where Henry was playing, knelt beside him, and squeezed him extra hard. Henry happily returned the hug with all his strength.
Despite all the good news, two things still terrified Emily. Her potential relationship with Olivia was one. The other was figuring out what her future held. The money she had in the bank wouldn’t last long; she knew that from painful experience. So now she had to figure out if she had what it took to make a leap of faith. The doorbell rang, and she knew it was time to find out.
Lucy gave Emily a confident smile and a geeky double thumbs-up. Emily nodded and opened the front door to greet Simon and Nicole, directing them into the living room.
Olivia was on the mend, which meant Nicole was heading home soon. After Lucy and Tom had encouraged Emily to send a few more of her finished works over, and she had eventually caved and hit the Send button with a shaking finger, Nicole had called to ask if they could meet before she left.
Now Nicole was sitting in her living room, being offered a drink by Lucy, who was introducing herself. Emily shook her head to snap out of her haze.
“Simon!” Henry announced loudly when he walked in from the garden.
Simon gave Nicole a smug look before greeting Henry.
“Simon, will you play with me?” Henry asked.
“Absolutely.” Simon stood up from the sofa, and a moment later they headed to the garden.
Once they were alone, Nicole reached into her bag and flipped through pieces of paper. “Obviously, I haven’t had time to read everything you sent me,” she started.
Emily sat on the edge of an armchair and waited nervously for her to continue.
“But I’m loving what I see.”
Emily felt a breath of relief leave her body and anxiously nodded, too fearful to speak.
Nicole pulled out some paperwork and rearranged the sheets into the correct order.
“I sent the e-mail copy of the original script I read to my colleagues, and like me, they adore it. We want to produce it. Of course, it will be a small production. We’ll try it out on the circuit, minimal sets and overheads as we tour to see how it goes. There will be a lot of work needed on the manuscript to tailor it—”
“You…you want to produce my play?” Emily stammered. She could hear her heart beating loudly in her chest as her heart rate spiked through the roof. She felt flushed and worried that she might pass out.
Nicole looked up at her, and her expression softened, as if suddenly remembering
that she was dealing with an amateur. “Darling, I’d sell a kidney on the black market to produce this play. I love it. I believe in it.”
Lucy walked into the room, set three mugs down, and looked from Nicole to Emily. “Should I go?”
“No, please stay. In fact, pinch me. Make sure I’m not dreaming,” Emily said hurriedly.
Nicole laughed. “You say that now, but trust me, when you hear about the rewrites, you’ll think it is more of a nightmare than a dream.”
Nicole handed Emily a piece of paper with a calendar on it.
“As you can see,” Nicole said as she gestured to different dates with her pen, “there are a number of large events, and the circuit is getting booked up. If we want to tour with this, we need to get things booked in soon or it will mean waiting another ten months for the next circuit. Theatre is affected by other events in the calendar, summer seasons, Christmas, awards shows, etcetera. We are coming to the end of the window for this term, but we can make it.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a but coming?” Emily asked.
Nicole smiled. “We need drastic rewrites, and we need them within a very short window.”
“What kind of rewrites and how much time?”
Nicole handed Emily another piece of paper. Emily looked through the list of proposed changes and the reasons for them—cutting scenes to reduce the number of sets, removing a background character, adding pages to make up the time.
“I don’t make these decisions alone. I have two partners who will need to see a new manuscript, with these changes, in order to approve the go-ahead for this season. They would need to see it soon; I’ll have to speak with them about times, but we’re talking under a month. Probably less.”
“Is that usual?” Lucy asked.
Nicole nodded sadly. “Rewrites are the bane of my life. Most plays have script changes right up until an hour before opening night. After that, many change several times over the first few productions. It’s normal for scripts to change a lot while the play is running.”
