6. Holden
Chapter 6
Holden
Day 92 without you: I wish I could have explained things, but it’s better you don’t know what a monster I am.
T he knock on the door might as well come from the boogeyman himself.
At least, that’s how Olivia is acting.
Just when I’m about to ask if she wants me to open it, she reaches for the door handle. “Let’s get this over with.”
The instant the door is open far enough, a woman steps through. “Where is he?”
I take in the newcomer—average height, red dress, dark skin, curly hair, in her mid-forties.
After a quick scan of the foyer, her gaze zooms in on where I’m leaning against the back of the couch.
She points a finger at me and says, “You,” then does the same to Olivia. “Let’s talk. But first, I need a drink.”
Olivia and I glance at each other before she hurries after the woman.
“Nisha, it’s not even noon yet.”
She curtly nods but doesn’t stop her brisk walk toward the kitchen. “Fully aware of that fact, trust me.”
Stormy and I follow them, rounding the corner as Olivia’s publicist takes a long sip of the red wine she just poured herself. She works fast, knowing her way around the kitchen after being here often enough. If I remember correctly, she was the one who went condo shopping with her.
The glass clinks on the marble counter when she puts it back down. After a heavy sigh, she walks around the kitchen island toward me with an outstretched hand.
“My apologies for my rude first impression. I’m Kenisha Williams, but you can call me Nisha.”
Obviously, I know who she is, but I don’t let on and shake her hand. “Holden Donahue.”
She lets out another sigh. “Oh, I know who you are, young man.”
The corner of her mouth twitches. If I hadn’t already decided years ago that she’s got nothing but Olivia’s best interests at heart, I might have warmed up to her anyway.
Olivia clears her throat. “Nisha, if this is about this morning. Stormy had to get out, and there was no way to avoid the cameras unless I would have taken the risk and gone alone.”
Nisha gently pats Olivia’s arm. “I know, sweetie. I’m sure the pictures of you guys would have been enough to cause a small wave across social media. But paired with the news that just got leaked, we’re dealing with a tsunami of epic proportions.”
Olivia and I stare at Nisha with puzzled expressions while Stormy trots over to her to get a few pats. Once satisfied, she moves to her oversized dog pillow where she curls up, lets out a snort, and closes her eyes.
What a life.
Nisha gazes back at us and nods toward the seating area. “Let’s sit so you two can explain to me when the hell you were going to let me know you’re married.”
Olivia plops onto the couch with the grace of a sack of potatoes, her mouth hanging open. I sit next to her but leave some room between us.
Since I’m not positive Olivia will reply anytime soon, I do. “We’re not married.”
Nisha raises her brows and gives me a glare that would make a weaker man shiver in his boots. Okay, fine. I’d prefer not to get on her bad side. She’s got that scary boss-lady vibe down. Thankfully, she’s on Olivia’s side though. And that’s all that ever mattered to me.
“Holden, I don’t do well with lies.”
I raise a brow. “Me neither. But I wasn’t lying. Olivia and I aren’t married.”
Olivia clears her throat. “Not anymore.”
Nisha focuses back on her. “Explain.”
“Well.” Olivia presses her lips into a flat line. “We . . . we got a divorce.”
For a twisted moment, it seems to be Olivia and Holden versus Nisha, so I nod in support.
Nisha takes a sip of her wine and glances back and forth between Olivia and me. “Well, I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but you’re still married.”
“No, no, no. You must be wrong,” Olivia says, while I mutter, “That’s impossible.”
I rub my hand over my beard, tugging at the skin on my throat. “I don’t know how you know about this, or why you think we’re still married, but we’re not. We finalized our divorce years ago.”
I don’t dare look at Olivia right now. My disappearance and the ensuing divorce are two things we still haven’t talked about —not for a single second. After all, avoidance and pretense are Olivia’s favorite games, and I definitely won’t spill my secrets willingly.
“I got a call from one of the reporters we’re friends with. He explained that he’d received an anonymous email with the information about your marriage.” Nisha stays silent for a beat. “He wasn’t the only one. The email went out to all the major gossip sites and their mothers. It’s everywhere.”
Olivia has lost all the color in her face. “But can’t we just make a statement that says it’s untrue? I mean, this is all just a big lie.”
Nisha taps her manicured fingers against her glass. “But that’s the problem, sweetie. It’s not. I immediately called our lawyer after I got the news. He was able to pull some strings and get access to your marriage records. I don’t know what happened, but even if you filed for divorce, it was never finalized. You’re still officially married. According to his divorce lawyer friend, it’s more common than you’d think. Not that that helps us in any way.”
What the fuck?
Olivia and I are still married?
My mind is racing, searching for answers, but there aren’t any.
How the hell did that slip through? “So you’re saying we’re still married because of some clerical error?”
Nisha purses her lips. “That’s what it seems like.”
I blow out a breath and watch Olivia as she rocks back and forth.
My chest tightens at the sight. Similar to before, I want to pull her into my arms and tell her everything will be okay. To make things better. To soothe her.
I want to be her anchor the way I once was—the person to keep her safe and grounded—even when the waves are crashing down around us.
Olivia jumps up and paces around the room as if she heard my thoughts aloud.
My stomach clenches, but I push the disappointment away.
Of course she doesn’t want my comfort anymore.
But my body has a mind of its own, and I stand too. “We’ll figure this out. I’m sure it’s a quick fix.”
Nisha makes a strange sound at that, and I frown at her. Neither the grimace nor her firm headshake give me good vibes. She means business.
She averts her gaze, which is souring my mood even more.
“What is it, Nisha? Please do us all a favor and just spit it out.” I try to keep my tone friendly, but with Olivia still pacing a hole in the floor and the bomb that was just dropped on us, I’m feeling a bit prickly.
Olivia stops at my words, and we both stare at her publicist, setting down her glass on the coffee table, successfully avoiding our questioning glances.
She swallows and nods. “Like I said, I contacted you right after the news blew up and headed over here. On the way, Wanda called me after she got a call from the higher-ups. They said they don’t care how we spin this, but they don’t want any more bad press from you. There has been enough damage to your image between the leaked underwear pics last year, followed by the drunken pics and other unfortunate ones, leading to the break-in last night and now this.”
Olivia crosses her arms and shouts, “But none of those things were my fault.”
My frustration mirrors her own, and I want to lash out.
But I know I can’t do that. I take several breaths, forcibly trying to rein in my emotions.
Just the mention of the underwear pics has me grinding my teeth. They were leaked right before the concert we attended last year, and our entire group overheard Olivia’s manager, Gavin, tell her that pictures of her in her underwear weren’t a biggie. That they weren’t even nudes. That someone took them from a hotel room across the street wasn’t a concern for him either.
Gavin wasn’t her manager for long after. A little bribe and a good threat later, and Wanda took over his position. She hasn’t been able to stop all the other incidents Nisha mentioned, but at least she’s treated Olivia with respect and human decency.
I definitely need a good workout once we’ve dealt with this. Someone will pay for this, even if it’s a dummy or my body.
Nisha focuses on Olivia, and her expression softens. “I know, sweetie. But they don’t care. They only care about the numbers and how the negative publicity affects them and their bottom line.”
My hands flex. The irritation in my bloodstream slowly morphs into something more. Something murderous.
No, you can’t find the execs and wring their necks.
Olivia needs you, and we know you’re no good to her when you’re in jail.
That thought gave me the proverbial slap on the head I needed. This isn’t about me. Even with this distance between us, Olivia still needs me. She needs to be kept safe and taken care of.
And who is better at that than me?
Olivia’s breath falters, a slight kink in her armor. “What exactly do they expect us to do?”
“They want you to stay married until this blows over and the next album is out.”
Utter silence.
I’m supposed to stay married to Olivia. The thought settles in my brain, and a small thrill of excitement rushes through me.
It dissipates the second I notice Olivia’s tense face.
She bites out, “No divorce?”
“No divorce.” Nisha shakes her head, opening her mouth like she wants to say more, but closes it again.
I raise my brow. “What else, Nisha?”
Nisha sighs in defeat, probably knowing she got the short end of the stick being the messenger. “They want you to get some good press. Together.”
Olivia chokes on air. “By doing what? Pretending to be a couple in love?”
The answer is written all over Nisha’s face, and Olivia sees it too, rubbing her brow as if to ward off a headache. A mumbled, “Fuck my life,” follows a moment later.
My mind has turned into a buzzing mess of static.
We’re supposed to play a happily married couple in public?
“Olivia, look at me.” Nisha lays a hand on her chest. “I’m sorry. I wish I could change their minds, but they’re set on this. But as much as this sucks, I know you can do this. Your album will be released in six months, and time will fly by. In the meantime, you guys just continue to be friends. We’ll set up a few events where you can get photographed together so the bosses are happy. Nothing more than that, I promise.”
Neither Olivia nor I correct her that we haven’t been friends in a long time.
The couch squeaks when Nisha gets up and grabs the wine bottle from the kitchen. She pours the remainder of it into her glass and gulps down most of it.
“I won’t lie to you and say this will be easy because, the truth is, it will probably suck plenty of times. Also, can I just say how happy I am that you’ve been so discreet with your love life in the last few years? Infidelity claims would have made this situation a million times messier.”
My entire body stiffens at the mention of Olivia’s love life. How many guys have there been that no one knows about? I know I don’t have any actual claim on her, but I still don’t want to hear about her conquests either.
Olivia doesn’t comment, but for the first time since Nisha dropped this bomb on us, she looks at me. “What do you think about all of this? You can’t possibly be okay with it.”
She’s still too pale for my liking, and I’m not a fan of the slight redness in her eyes either. It pulls at something deep inside me, something I buried years ago. Or I tried to, at least. A place where I care about her more than I should and where I’d do anything for her. A place I shut down the second I sent those divorce papers.
That place just caught on fire and is burning to the ground.
Does this have the potential to ruin us completely? Possibly.
But even if she hates the fact, she needs me right now. For her safety and for her career.
My feet carry me across the room until I’m right in front of her, staring into her captivating hazel eyes.
I might regret this tomorrow, but I need her to hear this morsel of truth right now. “Hurricane, haven’t you noticed there isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for you?”