This Thing Called Love (17 page)

CHAPTER 19

“Liv, honey, you’re not paying the least bit of attention. Would some sun-tea help? Julian just made some.” Ryan Connor nodded to his longtime partner, who stood in their big open kitchen slicing lemons and dropping them into a glass pitcher.

“Oh, Ryan, I’m sorry.” Olivia snapped out of her trance in time to pretend she’d been staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows of Ryan’s oceanfront beach house instead of being lost in her own gray thoughts. “You invite me out to the Hamptons to get some work done and all I can do is drool at the view.” From her seat on one of two pillowy white couches that resembled massive fluffy clouds, the ocean stretched endlessly in front of her, each little wave crested with a sparkling silver cap of sunlight.

Truthfully, she might as well have been looking out her apartment window at the brick wall of the building next door. Memories from the past few weeks both comforted and haunted her.

Like holding Annabelle as she snuggled in the crook of her arm, kissing her tiny soft toes, blowing on her tummy until she smiled. Who would have ever guessed that in such a short amount of time, Annabelle had become a part of her, a deep and essential part, like a bone or a rib or a heart.

And so had Brad, who was cocky and cynical and loyal and the gentlest, most kind-hearted man she’d ever met. She saw him in that stupid grocery line, doling out paper towels as if they were his solution to world peace. After they’d made love, he’d held her hand over his heart like she was . . . precious. But was she? He loved Annabelle but as for her—had she simply been nothing other than his flavor of the month?

Lots of guys couldn’t say the
L
word. And he’d warned her, he really had. But dammit, this time had seemed so different. She’d never felt like this before about anyone—except him when she was eighteen. Had it really been one-sided?

Ryan cast her a worried look. Despite working with him for the past year, only recently had they crossed the line from a strictly business relationship into friendship, and she was touched by his concern. “I’m fine. Really.”

“You look exhausted.”

She’d returned to her familiar, bustling life, with projects too numerous to fit into a day and not enough hours to sleep at night. Except when she did collapse into bed—and she waited until she was on the brink of exhaustion to avoid
thinking—
she couldn’t sleep.

Every emotion was raw and on the surface. A baby’s cry on the subway. An irritable toddler clinging to his mother after a too-long day. Small things she’d never even noticed before suddenly seemed magnified and personal.

Ryan raked a hand through his artfully spiky hair. Then he touched her hand, forcing her to look up from the screen. “You’re upset over working like a dog all week, then I hauled your ass out here for the entire Memorial Day weekend.”

Memorial Day weekend
. A sudden, shooting stab of pain in her heart over and above the usual constant gnawing reminded her that Bachelors Who Cook was tonight. At Brad’s restaurant. And she was here, hours away, miserable without him.

Julian handed Olivia an ice-cold glass of cranberry-colored tea. “I’m warning you two,” he said. “Tonight we’re doing a clam bake on the beach, so you’d better kick it hard this afternoon so you can relax later. I’m not going to let this entire weekend pass with all work and no play.”

Olivia smiled and sipped the tea. Ryan would easily work until midnight every night if it weren’t for Julian.

Ryan flashed Julian a teasing smile. “You artists. Always so whimsical.”

“Time for work and time for play, that’s the key to balance, right, Mr. Assertiveness?”

Ryan laughed. “Ironic, isn’t it? I write about helping people live full lives, yet I need someone to force me to slow down enough to enjoy my own.”

“Well, you’ve got to or what kind of father will you be?” Julian teased.

“Father?” Olivia asked.

“Hasn’t he told you?” Julian asked. “We’re adopting twins.”

Twin babies. Even as she congratulated them, longing for her own baby clutched at her heart.

She’d just thought of Annabelle as hers.
Her own baby
.

Olivia pressed her hands to her achy chest. Tried to breathe. Tears burned behind her eyes. How could she think of Annabelle as hers after so short a time? How had her heart expanded in ways she would never have thought possible?

“Are you all right?” Ryan grasped her shoulder. “Here, take another sip of tea.”

Even as Olivia said “no, thank you” for the tea and reported she was
fin
e, Annabelle’s sweet little face appeared in front of her eyes.

Her heart squeezed so hard she felt a physical ache in her chest. She missed Annabelle. She missed being Annabelle’s mother.

What she’d done seemed necessary. Ryan and Sylvia and an entire staff of people were counting on the completion of this project. Brad had stepped in and offered a solution and she’d taken it. Then why did she feel so awful?

She could have fought Sylvia. She could have had a heart-to-heart with Ryan. But for so many years, work was her number one priority, her only priority. The thing that drove her, made her feel like a success, and what kept the demons of a mother who’d abandoned her at bay.

But things had changed.

And now she had to, as well.

Maybe Brad didn’t want her. Maybe he was all about Annabelle and providing her with a great life. He’d certainly let Olivia know that when she’d first come to town.

But maybe she never gave him a chance. She’d made it clear her home was here, in New York, but was it? She no longer found any solace in her silk blouses, her designer shoes, or her office’s skyline view. Most of her friends seemed self-absorbed, totally into living a single’s life.

Home now seemed to be the place where the people she loved lived. And it wasn’t here. Not any more.

Ryan gathered up her hand and forced her to make eye contact. “All week I’ve been hoping you’d open up and share what happened when you went home, but you’ve seemed so upset. That’s why I suggested we work here this weekend. You looked like you needed a break.”

Olivia’s eyes misted. He’d asked her out here for her own benefit, not just to work on the book. He was being a friend. But there was nothing he could do to help her.

Julian raised an assessing brow. “Maybe we need something stronger than tea.” He headed back to the kitchen and returned with shot glasses, a box of tissues, and a bottle of Crown Royal. Olivia swiped at her eyes and laughed. “I must look like I need some
serious
intervention.”

Ryan poured. “Because of you, this book is going to be bigger than
The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.
I think it’s time we become real friends, the kind that tell each other what’s wrong.”

“You wrote a spectacular book. It’s going to help millions of people.”

Ryan slid the shot glass across the fashionably battered table. “Spectacular because of your genius editing. Now drink up and confess. We’re listening.”

Olivia told them everything, about returning to Mirror Lake to take Annabelle, meeting Brad again, her struggles to learn how to care for the baby. She told them how she’d be nothing without her job, and how there didn’t seem to be any compromise. She even told them how Bachelors Who Cook was going to be featured on an upcoming segment of Marc Daniels’s Food Network cooking show.

Finally Julian spoke. “I have one question for you. You say he asked you to marry him.”

“Under pressure. Without an
I love you
. Probably for Annabelle’s sake.”

“Is he the love of your life?”

“Yes.” The word tumbled out without her even thinking. “Yes, he is,” she found herself repeating slowly. “No one’s ever made me feel like he does. But I can’t go back to Mirror Lake without a job. My mother did that and it was . . . disastrous. Besides, my job is everything to me. Or at least it was. Since I’ve been back I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything but Brad and Annabelle.”

Julian and Ryan exchanged glances. Then Ryan spoke. “When we met, Julian owned a gallery in San Francisco. He couldn’t imagine moving cross-country to a crowded city with a harsh winter.”

Julian made a face. “I still abhor the crowds and the weather.”

“But you did it anyway? For love?” Olivia asked, blowing her nose.

He nodded. “I bought a second gallery in New York. But even now, I travel back and forth. Since we bought this place, we spend every weekend here that we can. I don’t feel that I gave up who I was to be with Ryan. You don’t have to, either.”

Ryan turned to speak to her. “The fact remains, you did an amazing job on my book. No one works as hard or demands such perfection, yet you deliver your demands with such a sweet smile I can’t help but do what you say. Well, that and you’re usually right.” He laughed. “But Olivia, you’re an accomplished editor. You’ve got resources and connections. If anyone can figure out how to make this work, you can.”

Dammit, why couldn’t she? For once in her life, why couldn’t she step out of the confines of the box she’d caged herself into and insist on putting her own life first? She’d been so afraid of not making it, of not being something. So afraid to deviate from the straight and narrow lest she get lost in the woods. But in the process, she’d lost her identity. Or maybe she’d never given herself a chance to find out who she was. “I guess I’ve been afraid. I’ve been letting my past hold me back.”

Ryan set his glass down with a smack on the glossy coffee table that looked molded from a tree stump. “Don’t let fear stop you, honey. There’s a whole chapter on that in the book, remember? You were the one who told me to leave it in.”

“You’re right. I am good at my job. But for the past ten years, that’s all I’ve done, twenty-four seven, without questioning. I need a little time and space for my own life right now, and no one is going to make that happen but me.”

“You go, girl. Take that space. Be assertive.” Ryan turned to Julian. “Oh my God, this is so surreal. She’s
living
my book. I’m absolutely
verklempt
.”

“I
am
going to be assertive. Starting right now.” Olivia stood and faced Ryan. “I want to finish editing the rest of your book remotely. There’s no reason not to. Do you trust me to do that?”

Ryan stood and hugged her. “Honey, of course I do. I wish you would have said what was going on in the first place or I never would have insisted you come back.”

“I won’t make that mistake again.” There were other mistakes she wished she hadn’t made. Mistakes that might be too late to fix.

“It’s so wondrous to see my book in action,” Ryan said. “Maybe I’ll use you as an example in the sequel.”

“How do you know it’s your book that’s given her this sudden revelation?” Julian asked.

“Olivia?” Ryan looked at her expectantly.

“Okay, your book helped,” Olivia said. “But it’s mostly because of my sister.”

“Your dead sister?” Ryan asked.

Olivia nodded. “Trish lived fully. She plunged into causes she believed in and every single day, she appreciated the people in her life. But it got cut short. She’ll never get to see her dreams fulfilled or her baby grow into a beautiful young woman. What if I die? What will I have to show for a job I’ve slaved over for every waking hour for most of my twenties? So your book is right, Ryan. I have to take action instead of being a zombie, following along blindly in my own life. Things have to change, starting right now.”

“Wow. That was really inspiring, Olivia,” Julian said. “Maybe you should become a motivational speaker.”

“Maybe I should have you write a few chapters of my next book,” Ryan said.

Olivia laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think you’d want that, since I’m more an example on how to do everything wrong.” She’d poured her heart and soul into a job and forgot to live the rest of her life. She’d held her success like a banner above her head and waved it to everyone to prove she was worthy no matter what her mother had done to her. And worst of all, she’d used her job as an excuse to avoid intimacy with the one man she loved—whom she’d loved for most of her life.

Wasn’t that the bottom line? Sticking to the well-known script of her life had been the perfect way to avoid getting her heart broken. Far less scary than taking a leap of faith. Maybe Brad was afraid of committing to a relationship. But maybe he, like herself, was just afraid of being abandoned.

Olivia glanced at her watch. Three o’clock. Bachelors Who Cook would begin at six. If she left now, she’d be pushing to get there in time to see Brad’s big opening and bid on him as a bachelor.
Her
bachelor.

Because there was no way she was going to give him to Erika or any other woman. Not without a fight.

She cursed, remembering she’d taken the Jitney bus from the city and had no car. “I’ve got to get to Mirror Lake by six. Would either of you mind giving me a ride to a rental car place?”

Julian glanced at his Cartier watch then at Ryan. “Forget that. We’ll take the Bentley. If we leave now we can make it.”

“Just what I was thinking,” Ryan said.

Olivia’s eyes teared up as she grasped their hands. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I was planning on watching Bachelors Who Cook,” Ryan said with a chuckle. “Just not live.”

CHAPTER 20

Thanks to Memorial Day traffic and merciless miles of road construction delays, when Brad finally pulled up to the marina, the cooking part of Bachelors Who Cook had already started. He strode quickly down the dock, past long tables covered with bright plastic tablecloths and serving pans heated with Sterno.

When Brad couldn’t reach Olivia directly, he called her downtown Manhattan office and Sylvia had told him Olivia was working in the Hamptons for the weekend. He’d found Ryan Connor’s beach house deserted. And he’d called Olivia’s cell a million times to no avail. Finally, time was up. It was enough he’d left his staff in charge all day. He had to show up at the auction for the sake of the fundraiser.

The dock was crowded in the late afternoon heat, with people milling about tasting food and wine, laughing and talking. The scent of smoked ribs from a massive grill set up on the new deck of his restaurant filled the air. He waved to Philippe, who signaled him a thumbs-up. He was in his element, wearing a crisp white double-breasted chef jacket and toque as he worked the crowd.

Despite Brad’s worries, everything had gone on just fine without him. Squinting in the bright sun, he searched all quadrants for a head of thick brown curls, a flash of deep brown eyes. But Olivia was nowhere.

He checked his cell again.
Nada.
And tried not to panic that he’d lost her for good.

Brad’s brother, Ben, sat behind a table next to Olivia’s father, surrounded by a crowd of young, tanned women in sundresses. Both guys appeared to be loving every minute. “Thanks for covering for me, Benjamin,” Brad said, “but what’s with all the napkins?” Ben clutched little scraps of paper that fluttered in the evening lake breeze.

“We ran out of lasagna rolls after a half hour. But the phone numbers just keep coming. Too fast to get them all in my phone.” Ben grinned widely, anchoring the papers under a leg of the serving pan.

Tom stood nearby, tasting barbecued ribs and drinking beer out of a plastic cup. “I wanted to take your place but Alex said if I did, she’d castrate me.”

“Where is Alex?” Brad asked, hoping he’d say “with Olivia”
.
Because it
felt
like Olivia was here. His heart fired crazily, as revved as the engine on a Jaguar, every sense on alert. She
had
to be here.
Please, God, let her be here.
Give me one last chance to get it right.

But why wasn’t she answering her phone?

Meg’s approach interrupted their conversation. She was holding Annabelle, who wore a ruffly white dress with red polka dots and tiny blue sandals. Meg held out her hand, palm up, to Ben. “I can put those numbers in my purse for you if you’d like. Keep them safe.”

“Thanks, Meggie.” As Ben handed them over, the wind caught and blew them over the water.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, watching them flutter like ticker tape after a parade.

“Oops,” Meg said, putting her fingers up to her mouth in mock surprise. Her tone would be called sassy if it was anyone but Meg. “So sorry about that.”

Brad accosted Ben, who was still getting over the shock of losing all those numbers. “Ben, I was wondering if you’d take my place in the bachelor lineup tonight.”

“Great idea, Brad.” Meg turned to Ben. “You’ll get plenty more floozies’ numbers that way.” Then she stalked off with Annabelle.

“Wonder what she’s in a huff about,” Ben said.

Brad shook his head. “For an ER doc, you’re pretty clueless.”

He didn’t have time to elaborate. A female hand snaked around his arm. Brad spun, his breath catching. Just Erika, in a clingy leopard-print dress accentuating her big boobage. Holding a zipped-up dry cleaning bag. “Oh, my God, you’re here,” she cried on a deep sigh. “Where the hell have you been all day?”

“I had . . . urgent business.” Still did. Where was Olivia?

“Ben
cannot
take your place. The whole town is cheering for you, for the restaurant. You’ve
got
to be part of the auction.”

“I can’t do it. I can’t be auctioned off.”

“Oh, yes, you can.” Erika thrust the bag into his hand.

“What’s in here?”

“Your tux,” she huffed.

“Attention, everyone. Can I have your attention?” Everyone swung their gazes over to the brand new deck of Brad’s restaurant, where a man with bright red skinny jeans, a yellow shirt, and hipster glasses held a microphone. He stood under a large banner that said
Bachelors Who Cook—for the Benefit of Mirror Lake Community Hospital.
“I’d like to call all of our cooking bachelors up here for the next part of our program.”

“Who is that?” Brad asked.

“Marc Daniels cancelled, and that’s his replacement. His name is Julian, he’s an artist from New York, and he offered to help. Now go!” Erika gave him a shove that wasn’t at all playful.

Julian’s voice carried over the marina. “That famous chef, Marc Daniels, couldn’t make it. I’m Julian Morris, your new MC. So come on up here, all you gorgeous bachelors!”

The crowd whooped and hollered. Everyone from town was there plus tons of foodies and tourists. The marina was jammed with boats, too, strung with strings of lights and flags in preparation for the big boat parade tonight.

No sign of Olivia.
Dammit,
she hadn’t come after all. Disappointment prickled his insides—no, something far worse. Once, when he was in college, he’d driven through the plains states—Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas—through long stretches of flat land and frozen, waving grasses. It had been snowy and cold, the heater had been broken in his beat-up old car, and he’d never felt such desolation. He felt it now, despite the sunny eighty-degree day and the smell of great food and laughter spilling everywhere.

He’d lost her. The road ahead looked lonely and he was completely off course. And the last thing in the world that he wanted was to be fawned over by a bunch of young women flashing their cleavage and shiny white teeth and licking their glossy lips.

There was only one woman for him. Too bad she didn’t want him.

He pulled out his phone one last time before he broke through the crowd. Nothing.

Brad changed in five minutes in the restaurant restroom. On the way out, Tom and Alex accosted him.

“Are you all right?” his brother asked.

Alex stepped forward to adjust his tie. “You look like hell.” She actually spit on her hand and aimed to flatten his hair like he was one of her boys but he dodged. She got him anyway.

“I’ve been in New York all day.”

Alex brushed lint off his jacket. “Tuck in your shirt.”

“I can’t find her. She wasn’t there and she’s not answering her phone.”

“Get a grip, bro. She’s here.” Tom looked him in the eye, shook him by the shoulders, and gave him one last shove onto the deck, where a stage had been set up.

She’s here.
Tom’s words echoed in Brad’s ears as he half tumbled onto the makeshift stage. His heart galloped faster than a horse thundering into the final leg of the Preakness. He scanned the crowd, his gaze skimming back and forth over a sea of smiling faces.

Where was she?
The faintest spark rekindled all his dashed hopes. He’d been given one last chance to fight for her. It would mean baring his soul to make it right and this time he wasn’t holding back.

When Brad stepped up, everyone cheered, but he barely heard the noise. He stood next to the eleven other bachelors in evening wear and forced a smile, waving to Effie and Rosie and the boys and all the friends and neighbors he’d known for most of his life. But his eyes sought one woman, scanning the sea of faces tirelessly but coming up with—zero.

Julian herded the men together. “Okay, everyone. We’re here to raise some money for the hospital, so come on, ladies, dig down deep in your pockets to bid on these hot guys. Top bidder wins a date with the bachelor, and the guy who goes for the most money gets to be on the cover of
Connecticut Foodie Magazine
. So, let’s go!”

The bidding began. Heat gathered under Brad’s collar and he yanked it to loosen it a little. He kept a smile painted on his face, but inside he was dying.

And then his cell phone buzzed.

Pulling it from his pocket, he read his text. The most precious two words of his life.

I’m here.

People pressed from all sides and Olivia felt her hair starting to spring out wildly in the humidity despite the gallon of hairspray her friends had generously applied. Sweat beaded on her lip and her pretty dress stuck to her skin.

It was a black chiffon halter dress, a reject Alex had found in the stock room from an all-black wedding. She’d taken shears and mercilessly whacked off the large red satin flower that had been sewn onto the waistline so it now looked slightly less wedding-ish. The shoes were strappy black sandals that Meg had pulled from her own closet. Who suspected that Meg even
owned
fuck-me shoes?

In Olivia’s haste, she’d forgotten her phone in New York but now she held Meg’s. She jumped up and down, waved her hands, trying to attract Brad’s attention while she slogged through the sticky bodies to the stage. She had to get to him before it was too late. Before every single woman went wild over him.

Julian’s voice boomed over the mike. “We’re going to start the bidding on our most popular bachelor, hometown son, entrepreneur, benefactor of many Mirror Lake charities . . . Mr. Brad Rushford!”

Sweat rolled down her back as Olivia flung herself through the tangle of arms and legs, children eating hot dogs and cotton candy, and toddlers clinging to their parents’ legs.

The crowd clapped as Brad took the mike.

“Olivia. Olivia, where are you?” Brad’s voice echoed along the lakefront as he looked about.

Olivia’s muscles froze in place.
Oh my God, did he just say my name? Out loud? Or am I hallucinating?

Everyone hushed, sensing something extraordinary was happening.

“I’m here!” she yelled as loud as she could. She pushed forward, waving her arms wildly. “Right here!”

This time, the bodies parted. Not only that, but a thousand eyeballs turned to stare at her. A buzz tore through the marina.

Brad finally caught her gaze and held out his arm. “Come up here, sweetheart. Come up here right now.”

She locked her eyes on gorgeous, handsome Brad, in a slim-fit tux, looking like the one and only man she’d ever loved in her life. He was there, waiting for her, his worried gaze fixed on her, only her. As if the thousand people surrounding them didn’t exist.

Behind him, the sun was setting over the pier, an orange ball of fire in a smoky blue sky. How many times had she seen that same sun set over this old town? Except that now its beauty seemed precious to her. The sunset blurred in a haze of sudden tears. All she could see as she blinked them back was Brad, center stage, taking the mike to speak.

“I’m Brad Rushford, owner of Reflections, sponsor of this event, and I just wanted to say a word. Is that okay?”

“Say away,” Julian said, stepping back.

“First, I wanted to thank everyone for coming out today. The Bachelors Who Cooked, I wanted to thank them, too. The event was a big success. And tonight, our auction is for a great cause.”

Amid the applause, Brad handed the mike back to Julian. Whispered something in his ear.

“But we’re in the middle of auctioning you off,” Julian said, his voice a little panicked. “What am I supposed to do with this crowd?” Realizing he’d accidentally announced that into the mike, Julian’s face turned the color of the setting sun.

Brad, grinning, patted him on the back, then dashed to the edge of the stage. His gaze singled out Olivia and fixed on her like a tractor beam as she pushed through the last few rows of bodies.

Julian faced the throng gamely. “Okay, party people. Our auction has been delayed for a few minutes while our bachelor takes care of some . . . business. I know Marc Daniels couldn’t make it, but we have a real celebrity in our midst who I know would love to give you some tips this Memorial Day weekend on being assertive. Let’s have a big hand for
New York Times
best-selling author, Ryan Connor!”

Everyone went with it and roared.

Ryan stepped up to the stage and hugged his partner.

“Thanks, Julian.” He beamed at the masses before him. “Let’s take a few moments to talk about working hard to get what you want.”