by Lily Ryan
“I think that’s a great idea.”
“Now what do you say we go to your bedroom for a repeat performance?”
“I’d say ‘what took you so long to ask?’”
Chapter 54
Lucas
The week flies by. Aside from celebrating New Year’s Eve with Ava and Spike, most of my time is spent going over numbers and tweaking my business plan. I haven’t had any promising prospects since the night I met Olivia. Not that I considered that blind date from hell promising, but before I knew I was meeting her instead of her father, I was excited.
I only hope my father’s relationship with these men don’t color their opinion. I want a win, but I want it on my own merit. I don’t want to owe him. Once we smooth everything over with Olivia’s parents, I don’t care if I ever see him again. I guess in a way that’s progress from wanting to never see him again.
I worry that while we’re together every night, Olivia will complain that I’m not paying enough attention to her. Luckily that isn’t the case. She knows how much this center means to me, and helps me any way she can.
She’s never far, and keeps an endless supply of coffee coming my way. She sits and reads while I work on my laptop researching the pros and cons of the possible locations, and competing facilities. There are none in the state or in the area. None like this anyway. Only medically based facilities exist.
The morning of the meeting I wake up early. I have too much adrenaline shooting through my veins to sleep. I look around my bathroom before getting into the shower. Hairbrushes, perfume and makeup are sprinkled across the countertop. I smile, knowing this is the tip of the iceberg. She hasn’t even begun to bring over “decorative” items or more than the next day’s clothes.
Still damp from the shower, I head back to the bedroom and look at Olivia still in bed, asleep. I think of waking her for a before-work-romp, but we’ll have plenty of time for those. Instead I chose to dress and start on breakfast. With everything in my life feeling like it’s finally falling in place, I want to do something sweet for her.
The house is overrun by the smell of cinnamon and bacon. I never pan fry it for myself, but for her the extra effort is worth the reward.
Once breakfast is ready, I go back to the bedroom to wake her. I brush her cheek with the back of my fingers.
“Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.”
The smile on her face makes my heart swell. I wonder if it will always be like this. Will just looking at her and knowing I did something to make her happy fill me with pride?
“Mmm. I don’t want to, I’m too comfortable.” She reaches out for me. “Come back to bed.”
“C’mon, I cooked you breakfast.”
She opens her eyes, “Really?”
“Yep. And I have something for you.”
“Okay, let me jump in the shower.”
“No. Since I have to finish work early, I changed my schedule. I have to leave in a little bit. You can clean up after breakfast.”
I pull a robe out of the closet and toss it to her. “Here you go.”
She cuddles into it as she wraps it around her body. I’ve never been more jealous of an inanimate object.
“Is this what I have to look forward to? Homemade breakfast every morning?” she asks as she settles into the chair I hold out for her.
“Definitely not every morning, but once in a while. I have to tell you though, this is my specialty.”
I see by the look of surprise on her face that she finds the French toast tastier than she expected.
“OMG this is delish! I didn’t know you could cook.”
“When you live alone long enough, you learn. And on that note.” I reach into my front pocket. “I said I had something for you.”
“Ooh, I should stay over here every night.”
“That’s the plan.” I pull the key out of my pocket and place it on the table in front of her. “I had this made for you. This way, you can come and go as you please until you officially move in.”
She comes around to my side of the table, sits on my lap, and throws her arms around me. “Thank you! I’m so happy. I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say you’ll be here waiting for me when I get home tonight. I have a feeling I’m going to need you.”
She places her hand on the side of my cheek and smiles. “I’ll be here, but I doubt you’ll need me. You’re going to nail this.”
“Here’s hoping!”
Chapter 55
Olivia
He waits until the end of the day to call me into his office. I don’t want to go. These meetings are becoming too frequent. Even though he and Lucas are sort of on speaking terms, I don’t like it. I almost feel like a pawn in a chess game.
“Dr. Stillwell, I’d love to stay and chat, but I need to get home.”
“I know for a fact Lucas has an important dinner tonight. I arranged it. That’s why I thought this would be the perfect time to discuss your future.”
“I thought we did that when the three of us went out.” Maybe he needs a reminder that Lucas finally gave him the time of day again.
“Not like this. Be in my office in ten minutes.”
I don’t like the sound of this. I know this is the moment I should quit. I don’t even care anymore if Lucas thinks I did it because he wants me to. I don’t want to be behind closed doors with his father. Not after that set up. What interest could Dr. Stillwell possibly have in my future that doesn’t involve Lucas? And why the hell does he want to do this tonight, without his son?
A knot forms in my stomach. It turns and churns and I want to throw up. If he tries anything, I’ll set him straight. He won’t though, will he? If he loves Lucas half as much as he claims to, will he ruin their semi-reconciliation?
I pick up my phone and send Lucas a text message. Whatever happens next, I want him to know he’s on my mind.
Good luck! I love you xoxo
I pass Joan on the way to Dr. Stillwell’s office. She’s the interim office manager. She has ninety days to prove herself. In the meantime, Dr. Stillwell is rotating a bunch of us at the front desk to see who best handles the cranky patients.
Joan smiles as we walk by each other. That’s a far cry from Sandy who would’ve tried to knock me on my ass if she knew where I was headed. Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe Dr. Stillwell only wants to offer me the front desk position and a raise to go along with it. One could only hope.
*
As usual I find myself alone in his office. I hate how this always plays out. I gravitate to the only family picture Dr. Stillwell has in there. I wonder if Lucas and I had a son, would he have a strong resemblance to his father like Lucas has to his dad?
How did that happen? How did I find myself lost to the illusion of children? I never daydreamed of being a mother. Until now. It’s like he’s opened a whole new world to me, one of love and marriage; a love that doesn’t need to be kept hidden in the dark.
I jump when I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders. I never heard the doctor come into the office.
“I’m sorry Olivia, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“You didn’t, Dr. Stillwell. I just …”
“Please, dear, call me Steven.”
Oh we’re back to that. Lucas is so not going to like this.
*
I stay at the office longer than I anticipate. I don’t know how Lucas is going to react. I keep checking my phone to see if I have any missed texts or calls. Still no word from him. I hope that’s good news.
He wants me to meet him at his house. My shiny new key is just itching to be used, but first I have to pick some things up from my apartment, little things like clothes.
I can’t control the jittery feeling that overruns my body. Internally I feel like every part of me is shaking. Externally my hands are nice and steady. I don’t know how Lucas will take it. I have to make sure I tell him at the right time.
Dr. Stillwell doesn’t want him to know, but I made a promise to Lu
cas, and I understand how much that promise means to him. Still, I don’t want to be the cause of added friction between them.
I drive on mindlessly, not even listening to the music on the radio until I reach my complex. I need to run in, grab my clothes for the morning, and I can leave. It’s simple enough. Hopefully I’ll make it back to Lucas’s before he gets home.
The landline rings when I walk in. I don’t know why I still have a landline. Especially now that I’ll be moving in with Lucas. I should cancel it and save some money.
I check the caller ID certain it isn’t Lucas. He knows it’s easier to reach me through my cell phone. My parents. I know I should answer. We’ve been in a silent war since Christmas with Ava acting as the go-between.
“Hi, Sweetheart.” It’s my mother. “Your father and I would like for you and Lucas to come for Sunday dinner. We want to get to know him better and discuss your plans.”
She can’t even bring herself to say it, not our plans, our wedding.
“Great, Mom. Are you guys planning to be reasonable or are you going to send me to my room for a time out.”
“We overreacted, Livie. I’m sorry. We had no idea you were in that serious of a relationship.”
“I’ll have to check with him.”
“Oh.” She doesn’t try to hide her disappointment.
“Look, I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m sort of in a rush right now. I got home late and I’m supposed to meet Lucas. I’ll talk to him and let you know tomorrow. Okay?”
“Alright sweetheart, I guess that will have to do. Have a good time.”
Before I end the call, the doorbell rings. Great! I know it has to be Lucas. I’m so late. I hope I can avoid the reason behind it for a while, at least until I gauge his mood.
I open the door, not sure what to expect.
His lips draw up into a smile. It must have gone well. Whew! Maybe I can tell him? I don’t expect a long, passionate kiss before he enters the apartment, but when his mouth meets mine, it’s like we haven’t seen each other in a month rather than a few hours.
He comes at me with the hunger of a starving man at a banquet. He pulls me close, his hands on the sides of my face. They move down to my waist and keep on their excursion until they cup my bottom.
I pull away. “I can’t tell if that means it went well or not.”
“Shh,” he places a finger over my lips and is quick to replace it with his lips as he backs me up into the apartment.
Still wearing the suit he wore to the meeting, Lucas undoes his tie and tosses it aside. My fingers work on the buttons of his shirt. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t spoken. All that matters is the need pulsing through us, between us. The need to connect. To be part of each other.
“Does this mean you got the funding?” I ask pulling his now open shirt out of his pants.
“I don’t know. I think I convinced Dr. Wilson. Mrs. Stinner made it clear she controls the purse strings.”
“She was there?” I run my hands up the warm skin of his stomach and chest.
“Uh huh.” He picks my shirt up over my head, pulls the cups of my bra down and admires my breasts.
“Mmm. How I missed you,” he brings his mouth down to one breast, his tongue flicking back and forth over its peak while his hand kneads the other.
“Did she like your plans?” I ask finding it near impossible to maintain the conversation.
“Don’t know.” He pulls away to answer as his hands take their fill of me, caressing, and pinching the peaks of both breasts. He bends down ready for his mouth and tongue to meet my other breast.
“Expecting someone?” Lucas asks, at the chime of the doorbell.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then ignore it. They’ll go away.”
“Give me a minute, maybe it’s a delivery or something.”
“Are you waiting for one?”
“No.” I twist out of his hold, adjust my bra and put my shirt back on before I open the door.
“Hi, Livie.”
My stomach drops like a barrel over Niagara Falls, hard and fast. My heart beats in protest. I can’t speak, my mouth is too dry. I recognize the large brown eyes, the light brown hair, and perfectly trimmed, layer of stubble covering his face.
Nate.
“Livie.” He leans forward, placing his hand on the doorframe, probably so I can’t slam the door in his face “I need to talk to you.”
“I have nothing to say. And this isn’t a good time.” I start closing the door hoping he picks up on the cue and backs off.
“Please just hear me out.”
Lucas stands behind me. I don’t need to look back to confirm it. I feel the tension and heat bounce off him onto me.
“Is everything alright?”
I nod, too nervous to look at him when I answer. I keep my focus on Nate hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.
“Everything’s fine. He’s just leaving.”
“I’m not leaving. You need to hear me out.”
“No, I don’t. I think you would’ve gotten the hint when I hung up on you.”
With his shirt still askew, Lucas steps up from behind me so that we were standing side by side. He doesn’t say anything, but with a quick glance at him, I see his jaw clench and anger burning in his eyes.
Nate turns. Like he just noticed Lucas is there.
“Who’s this?”
“I’m her fiancé.”
“Fiancé? Livie, please, you can’t marry him. Not until we talk.”
“You should leave.” Lucas’s voice is cold and hard.
“Please, give me another chance. I told Malory about us. I told her everything.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“I owed her the truth. And I owed it to you to be honest about us. I never meant to hurt you.”
“C’mon, buddy.” Lucas steps forward. “She doesn’t want you here.”
“Not until Livie asks me to leave.”
“Leave. Go back to your wife and kids.”
Lucas takes another step forward. He brings his hand up to Nate’s chest, backing him away.
“This isn’t over. Livie. I love you and I want you back.”
I turn and go back into the apartment knowing I need to explain the scene to Lucas. It isn’t the scene that concerns me. It’s the questions and implications that will follow.
I should’ve told him about Nate, should’ve told him the whole story when he asked. Or when Nate called. I knew it was a bad sign when I found that note mixed in with my mail. Why the hell did he have to show up now?
A few minutes pass before Lucas comes back into the apartment. When he does, he shuts the door and leans against it. He holds his head between his hands, eyes closed, no doubt recomposing himself.
“Did you know he was coming? Is that why you were late?”
I swallow hard. I can’t possibly tell him what happened with his father now. He won’t understand. First, I have to clear up the Nate mess.
“No, I just …” I search for an excuse. Anything that might be plausible. “I was on the phone with my mother and I lost track of time. My parents invited us to dinner on Sunday. They want to …”
“Enough.” He cuts me off.
I step forward and put my hands on his waist. “Lucas, I love you. He doesn’t mean anything to me.”
He takes my hands off him and steps away, over to the other side of the small kitchen and leans against the counter. I know I’m over reacting, but it feels like he can’t bear to be touched by me.
“He’s married.”
So much is communicated in those two words. Everything that kept him distant and uninvolved in the beginning. All the insecurities caused by Stacy, they’re all back.
I nod, wishing I never let that fact leave my lips. But I did and now I have to face the consequences.
“Clearly he’s older than I am, and he’s married. How old is he, Olivia?”
“He was a mistake. If I could do it all over again I would.”
“How old is he?”
“Thirty eight.”
“Fuck.” Lucas’s hands cover his nose and mouth. “So you do have a thing for older men.”
I know what he’s thinking. I have to clear this up. Now.
“It’s not what you’re thinking. I was very naive. My sophomore year I took a literary romance class. That’s where we met.”
“He took the class?”
I shake my head, nervous to get into all this. “He taught it.”
“This just gets better and better.”
“I told you before I was taken with him. He paid a lot of attention to me, and I was clearly his favorite. He’d recommend books and movies to me based on my answers and reactions to class discussions. I read one of the books and then started talking to him about it after class. That’s when he asked me to meet him for dinner. I thought it was just to talk about the book, and how to apply what I took from it to his class.”
“Great, so now we know. Not only is he a liar and cheater, he uses his position to prey on young girls. What a fucking catch.”
“This was long before you, and I broke things off with him. Why are you mad at me?”
His hands are balled into fists. “I’m not mad at you, I’m just mad. Okay?”
I take small steps over to where he stands. “You heard me tell him I’m not interested, right?”
“No. You said he should go back to his wife and kids, but you never told him you weren’t interested.”
“It was implied.”
“Some things need to be said out loud.”
Lucas doesn’t move away from me, but standing with his arms crossed over his chest, he makes no move to embrace or touch me.
“I’m saying it. I have no interest in him. You’re the only one I want.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“When did he call?”
“Christmas. I only answered because I thought it was my parents. They’d been calling my cell phone since we left.”
“And you didn’t bother to check the caller ID? Or did you want to talk to him?”
“I hung up on him. You must have heard that.”
“You didn’t tell me, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because you still have feelings for him.”
