Souls ReAligned (3 page)

“That’s a really good idea,” John says. “You two can eat ice cream, spend money, and talk about what arseholes us guys are. I’m sure you’ll feel much better after that.”

Shannon takes Olivia’s silence as acceptance, “It’s settled then. I’ll stay.”

John’s phone rings and he shakes his head as he picks it up, “Ethan.” Holding it away from his ear, he winces at the loud screaming. “Ethan, stop screaming and listen to me. ETHAN! Olivia is safe. I have her here with me. I’m going to take her back to her house. Shannon is going to stay with her overnight. Not a chance, Boss! Scott isn’t going to give you back your keys, Ethan. Leave him alone. Carter and I are going to pick you up in about 10 minutes. Lay off the scotch.”

Finally arriving home, Olivia and Shannon settle on the couch with a container of ice cream and two spoons. Olivia has too much going on in her brain to even fake interest in the movie that Shannon selected. It does nothing to distract her from the heaviness in her heart.

She says nothing about the evening’s events, even when Shannon gently persuades her to talk about it. Frowning when her phone vibrates, she lets out a heavy sigh as she looks at the display.

Sensing her query, Olivia looks up to meet with Shannon’s best jury glare. “Have you heard from Ethan?” she finally asks.

Olivia breathes out a long slow breath, “Only every 10 minutes.”

Shannon’s eyes pop open wide, “Seriously?”

“Your boss invented the word PERSISTENCE.”

“Did you respond?”

“No, I just shut my phone off. I can’t deal with him right now,” Olivia says, shaking her head.

“But you are planning on dealing with him, right?” Shannon raises her eyebrow in a questioning manner.

Olivia pauses for a moment, “The jury’s still out on that one. I mean, how much longer can we go on playing these games?”

“Well, you tell me,” Shannon says in a stern voice. “I don’t want to be a bitch, but surely you must accept equal responsibility for that?”

Olivia is taken aback by her comment and her response is unmistakably defensive. “Are you asking as my friend? Or Ethan’s lawyer?”

“Your friend, of course,” Shannon reassures her, “It’s just that I don’t understand why you’re angry with him? You wanted a non-committed relationship. Right?”

Olivia frowns, “He asked me several times if a non-committed relationship was what I wanted. I told him yes.”

“But he knew you weren’t telling the truth and he called you out on it.”

Shannon confirms the truth, making Olivia’s heart squeeze tightly in her chest. Thoughts of the things he said about her being closed off and difficult roll through her brain. She wonders why she’s so determined to prove him right. As much as she tries not to analyze it, she comes to the shocking realization that she didn’t walk away because she was angry with Ethan. She was ripped apart at the sight of him with another woman, even if she did force his hand. No, that wasn’t the reason. Sitting in his car, listening to him argue and fight for her love, made her realize just how strong her feelings are for him. She panicked, throwing up walls; trying to push him away for good. She looks over at Shannon who has been patiently waiting for an answer, “Yes. This is my fault.”

John’s car hasn’t even come to a complete stop in front of the restaurant, when Carter opens the door and jumps out. “Carter!” John yells, “Don’t do it!” Cursing, John throws the car into park and chases after him, but he’s a few seconds too late.

Ethan is standing at the bar when Carter finds him and calls out his name. He turns, but before he has a chance to say a word, the sound of a loud THUD echoes through his ears. Carter hits him in the jaw with such a powerful right jab that Ethan stumbles back. Lifting his hand, he wipes a small trickle of blood from his lip and then looks back at his friend, stunned.

Yelling, Carter steps forward, angrily poking his finger into Ethan’s chest. “I told you to take care of her! Treat her right is what I said! Is taking the office whore on a date you’re idea of treating her right? Olivia loves you! You should be on your fucking knees worshipping her every chance you get! You don’t deserve her, O’Connell!”

John firmly puts his hand on Carter’s shoulder, holding him in place. Standing guard at Ethan’s side, Scott firmly presses his arm across his chest, encouraging him not to react.

“Okay, Carter, that’s enough. Go wait out in the car,” John’s authoritative voice commands.

Still furious, Carter turns on his heels and stomps back outside, shaking his bruised hand as he walks. Ethan rubs his jaw and downs the last shot of scotch. Looking over at John he shrugs. “I deserved that.”

John shakes his head. “Sounds like it. Can’t I leave you alone for one evening, my friend?” he says exasperated.

“Is Olivia okay?” he asks anxiously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“She’s fine. Let’s get you out of here.”

“You’re taking me to see her. RIGHT NOW!” Ethan turns to walk toward the door, but John is having none of that tonight. Ethan may be his employer but he’s also his friend. He’ll never allow him to get into another situation like the one that forced him to leave Ireland. The situation that could potentially ruin his name, his career, and his entire life.

“Ethan, I’m not taking you anywhere near that girl tonight. You need to give her some space. Christ, man! What were you thinking?”

Ethan’s nostrils flare as he takes in a breath. His jaw tenses and the vein in his temple begins to pulse. “I need to see her!” he demands.

“Not tonight, the only person you’re seeing tonight is me. You’re going to stay with me at the hotel, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t get your sorry Irish ass into any more trouble.”

Ethan still has his phone to his ear, when John comes out of the bathroom after a shower. Sitting on the side of the bed he reviews his phone messages, watching his friend anxiously pace the hotel room floor. “Ethan. She’s not answering. Shannon said that she’s turned off her phone. Get some sleep; we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Ethan dials one more time. When he’s directed to voicemail again, he curses, and gives John a tortured look, “I need to fix it.”

“I know. Not tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll figure it out.”

Warmth surrounds her while he cradles her in his arms. His words echoing as the vision fades into the distance. “I love you. I will always love you.” She reaches for him, but he slips from her grasp. “Ethan! Wait! Don’t leave me!”

Darkness rolls in. Eva Storm stands in front of her with a perfectly wicked grin, beckoning her to follow. Reluctance pins Olivia where she stands. Frantically looking for him, she tries to see past the ominous psychic. Where did he go? She needs to find him.

A collage of memories marches through her brain, flashing before her in rapid succession. Then everything halts. The silver haired psychic demands her full attention. “He’s looking for you,” she warns. “You can’t stop him. He will always find you.”

Gasping for air, Olivia sits straight up in bed. Reaching for her phone, tears form in her eyes as she dials.

“Megan,” she says, barely able to speak.

“Olivia? What’s wrong?” she asks, alarmed.

“It’s over.”

“Talk to me. What happened?” Megan asks, heartbroken by the suffering in her sister’s voice.

“We had a huge fight and I walked away.”

“Oh, Honey. I’m so sorry.”

“It was awful,” she begins to ramble incoherently. “The chick with big boobs… Getting in a fight with Noah… Demanding that we be in a committed relationship… I walked home and got lost.”

“Wait a minute, back up. You walked away because he demanded a committed relationship?” Megan questions.

“Yes.”

“Does he treat you well?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like being with him?”

“Yes,” reaching for a tissue, she wipes her nose.

“So then, what’s so bad about being in a committed relationship with him?” she inquires.

“I panicked, Meg,” her breathing stutters. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Sweetheart, if you didn’t want to be with him, you wouldn’t be so upset right now,” Megan reasons. “Why are you so frightened?” her question is met with the sound of sniffles. After a few moments of silence, she asks the question that she knows her baby sister won’t want to answer. “Olivia? Do you love him?”

Shannon cracks the door open and peeks in as Olivia’s emotions erupt, breaking down into a hard sob. Frowning, Shannon climbs onto the bed beside her and passes her a tissue. Wrapping her arms around her, she hugs her, settling in for what’s going to be a very long night.

This September morning is warm and humid, in complete contrast to last night’s cool fall air. Shannon joins Olivia under the shade of the tree in the back yard, where she sits silently reading. Trying to read, actually. Continually distracted, she finally closes her book and gives up. She didn’t sleep at all last night after she spoke with Megan. She spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling. Wishing she could just pull out her brain so she can examine it and fix the cause of her failure, as she does one of her IT problems. Trouble is… deep down, she knows what the real problem is and she’s not sure that she wants to take a closer look at it. With a painful ache in her heart, she decides to put it aside for now. Afraid that if she looks at it any closer, she just might have to admit to herself that it’s not that she doesn’t want his love. She’s afraid of what might happen if she accepts it.

Nausea rolls over her in waves, prompting her to wash down a couple of crackers with her tea. Glancing up at the birdhouse, she hopes to see the little green bird with the scrolled heart marking on its bright white chest. There’s something oddly comforting about that bird when it’s around.

“I called Rachel this morning. She’s going to join us for lunch and shopping,” Shannon says, pulling Olivia away from her thoughts.

“Ugh, I’m not really feeling like shopping Shannon. You and Rachel go ahead without me. She knows all the best shops anyway. I know where the sports apparel stores are.”

“Olivia, please. Rachel has arranged for you to take a couple days off work. I don’t want you sitting around here all day by yourself. At least come and have lunch with us.”

Scott picks up Ethan and takes him into the Toronto office of Aurora Technologies. He’s been given strict instructions, by John, NOT to take him to see Olivia. It’s an argument Scott and Ethan have in the car until they are well out of town, but Scott prevails. As they stop at a red light a block away from the high-rise office building, Ethan’s eyes are drawn across the busy city street, and he becomes inspired.

“Ethan?” Scott says concerned, noticing that he’s become distracted.

“I’ll be right back,” pulling the handle, he throws open the door. Crossing the busy street in the middle of the road, he dodges traffic and angry drivers who don’t seem to understand the mission he’s on.

“What the hell?” Scott yells out the open window. When he sees him open the door to the flower shop, he chuckles. “You can walk to the office, O’Connell!” he yells as the light turns green and the cars behind him begin to honk.

As Ethan enters, a bell rings drawing the clerk from the back room. “Good morning, how can I help you?” She beams at the sight of him in his tailored three-piece suit. What woman wouldn’t be attracted to the muscular breadth of his shoulders, his rock hard chest, and a round firm ass that you could bounce a quarter off. If that wasn’t enough, there is always his lethal Irish charm.

“Good morning. I’d like to send flowers to my girl,” Ethan says, unleashing his Irish brogue on the poor, unsuspecting sales clerk.

“Lucky girl,” she says, blushing in reaction to being so close to such a potently attractive man, “is this a special occasion?” She stares into the green of his beautiful Irish eyes; not caring at all, that he’s mentioned a girlfriend.

“I just want to let her know that I’m thinking about her, and maybe… a little bit of an apology.” Feeling a little embarrassed for some reason, he scratches his forehead. “I’m sure that you can help me with that.” His hotter than hell smile curls at the corner of his soft, kissable lips.

“I love your accent.” Smiling at him, she twists her hair playfully. “I can help you. It happens a lot, actually. Did you have anything particular in mind? We have some lovely examples of arrangements out on the floor.”

Ethan looks around at all the flowers, but nothing seems to convey the message he wishes to send. Everything is too extravagant or formal. “I was thinking something a little more delicate. Simple.”

“Well if there’s an apology to be made, roses are always a winner.” Directing him to a display of every color you can imagine, she points to a simple cut arrangement of a dozen red roses. Picking one up, he lifts it to his nose. Its fresh fragrance reaching him, before he’s even close. Admiring its long stem and thick lush green leaves, he lays it back on the pile.

“Shall I write up an order?” the clerk asks, already pulling out a pen and a pad of paper.

His mouth twitches at the corner, and then a grin forms on his lips. Looking up, he shakes his head. “No. She’ll hate them,” he chuckles to himself, leaving the sales girl looking a little bewildered. Looking past her into a clear glass cooler behind the counter, he points. “What are those? Can I see those?”

She turns to see what bucket he’s pointing at, and opens the door. “These are daisies.”

“Pink daisies?”

“Yes,” she giggles, like a schoolgirl. “Daisies come in all different colors.”

Ethan reaches over and touches the delicate petals as he lowers his face to enjoy the subtle fragrance. Somehow, he knows that these are the right ones, “Can you make me an arrangement with these?”

She tries to discourage him, certain that if he were trying to apologize, these would be the wrong choice, “Yes, but there’s nothing very special about them and...”

He stops her in mid sentence, “These are the ones I want. I want you to make it look… innocently romantic like they’ve been picked while walking through a country field.” His eyes sparkle and he gets that dreamy, far away kind of look. His stomach squeezes tightly as he recalls a recent dream of himself and Olivia, sitting in a meadow wrapped in each other’s arms. He can feel the warmth of her body against him; smell the sweet fragrance of her hair as he tangles his fingers in it. Pulling on it firmly enough to ease her head back, he gains access to her neck. Remembering the softness of her skin beneath his lips as he trails kisses across her throat, his face begins to flush. Swallowing hard, he snaps back to reality. The last thing he needs right now is a rock hard erection swelling in his pants. “Do you understand what I’m looking for?

Looking down, the sales girl blushes, needing a moment to gather her thoughts and recover from the pheromones that are intoxicating her. Her eyes dart up at him a few times, but she quickly averts them, trying to hide her reaction. “Yes, I think I get what you’re looking for. You won’t be disappointed.”

Making a few quick calculations, she rings up the bill. Ethan hand writes the accompanying card with meticulous care.

“When will they be delivered?”

“Tomorrow, usually before 4 p.m.”

“They need to be there today by noon. No later,” he insists as he unfolds his wallet and takes out two fifty-dollar bills and his business card. “This one is for you,” he says, sliding one toward her on the counter. “And this one is for the driver.” Holding it up so she can see it. “All he has to do is provide me with a signed delivery slip that says he delivered it by then.”

Leaving the flower shop, he tucks his wallet back in his pocket and stops to check his phone. The sound of the city echoes loudly around him; and yet, miraculously, he hears her soft voice over all the hustle and bustle.

“Daisies are her favorite.”

Turning toward her voice, he makes eye contact.

“But then, you remembered that. Didn’t you?” she finishes. Eva Storm sits at a small round bistro table out the front of her shop next door, sipping tea from an extremely fragile looking teacup. She looks different today: younger, familiar, almost. If he’s not mistaken, he detects an Irish brogue that he’s never noticed before. Even more proof that the woman is bat shit crazy. As much as he’d like to, Ethan can’t ignore her. Securing his phone in his pocket, he walks slowly toward her, intrigued by what she’s said.

“Good morning,” he says, nodding his head and giving her a questioning look. She smiles at him and waves her hand toward the empty chair, inviting him to sit. Hesitantly, he pulls it back and joins her, curiously watching her as she raises the steaming cup of tea to her lips.

“Do you remember why daisies are her favorite?” Reaching over, Eva places her hand on top of his. Grasping it and turning it over, she traces her fingers along the lines, studying them intently. The heat from her hand is a shocking contrast to his cool skin, but that’s not the reason the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. “No. Should I remember?” he asks, still intrigued.

When she looks into his eyes, he feels as if she’s looking straight through him. “Because the first flower you ever gave her was a daisy,” she pauses and looks to the sky, distracted by the sound of fluttering wings. “But that was many lives ago…” she continues.

Getting a nervous, eerie kind of feeling deep down in his stomach, goose bumps form on his skin. “I see. Many lives ago?” Raising his hand to scratch the back of his head, he furrows his brow. “And how do you know that?” he asks with reluctance in his voice.

She smiles as she stares into his eyes. Her voice takes on a much stronger, familiar Irish accent, “The same way you do, boy. I just know. You still don’t believe?”

This is nonsense!
Why is he even entertaining the idea? Getting to his feet, he plans on getting as far away from her as he can, and quickly. “Have a lovely day,” he nods as he walks away.

Eva calls out to him, “Don’t give up on her,
Owen
.”

Ethan stops in mid-step, stunned. Turning on his heels he walks briskly back to the table. “Why did you call me by that name?” he demands.

His body stiffens as she takes his hands in hers and squeezes them with her boney fingers, “She was betrayed… by someone she thought was you.” Ethan’s heart starts to beat a little faster but he says nothing.

“He was the nastiest kind of deceivers,” Eva continues, “She’s frightened now. Not yet ready to trust her heart. She’s too afraid to believe that she’s found you. She’s ignoring the signs.”

A small bird glides down from the roof of the building and sits on the top of an old wooden signpost. Shaking his head, Ethan blinks his eyes, certain that he’s seeing things, “Is that my bird?”

Eva grins and raises her hand to the post, holding it flat. The little bird jumps onto it, twisting its head and chirping as if it’s relaying an important message. “Yes,” she answers, as she establishes eye contact. “She watches over her.”

Ethan’s patience is wearing thin. Beginning to wonder, if he’s not a victim of some kind of joke, his temper starts to flare, “What do you mean she watches over her?”

“Not every soul comes back the same,” Eva says calmly.

Struggling to breathe through his anger, Ethan’s chest tightens, “What in God’s name does that mean?”

Eva ignores his question, determined to make her point, “She needs you. It won’t be easy, she’ll try to fight you every step of the way, but you must convince her that your souls are bound by cosmic energy. You’re meant to be together.”