Chapter 11 A Lingering Touch
a lingering touch
Olivia entered the bookstore right before four and released a heavy sigh.
She hated deluding herself, and she tried to be as honest with herself as she could be, but her interactions with Jaime, from the legal conference on, were making this habit difficult—likely a terrible sign.
Yet the cat-and-mouse game they’d been indulging in since Jaime had shown up with a cup of coffee during her run remained too enticing to resist.
She had planned to wait, to see if Jaime would suggest another such ‘coincidental’ run-in during their visit at the art exhibit, but after they’d been there for almost two hours and no such suggestion was forthcoming, she hadn’t been able to hold back and blurted out meeting here, in this weird way they went about setting up get-togethers.
Much like Olivia hadn’t meant to follow Jaime to the bathroom and kiss her at nerverending pages.
But Jaime had seemed so distressed when she’d rushed off, and Olivia had wanted to make sure she hadn’t crossed any boundaries.
Of course, it would be a lot easier if Jaime wasn’t made up entirely of boundaries.
Not in bed, mind you, but Olivia had promised herself she’d not think of her in this way.
Sometimes she wondered if giving up would be smarter. It would prevent her feelings from getting hurt, but she’d never quit at anything, and she surely wouldn’t start now.
“You’re right. This is a great place. Thanks for telling me about it,” Jaime said in lieu of a greeting as she stepped up next to Olivia, tearing her out of her thoughts.
Olivia took a deep breath. At least the scent of sandalwood and jasmine should have gotten her attention. “I’m glad it meets your approval.”
“It does. Here.” Jaime held up a cup. “I wasn’t sure if they offered anything to drink.”
Olivia smiled, taking the insulated cup. She took a small sip and hummed as her tastebuds once more encountered perfectly sweetened coffee at the exact right temperature. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”
Jaime shifted and seemed to avoid Olivia’s gaze. “So, what’s their selection here?”
Olivia rolled her lips. “They focus on fantasy and science fiction, but there’s also a horror and suspense section.”
“Are those your favorite genres?” Jaime followed Olivia through the aisles.
“I’m not sure I have one. I’ll read any genre if the book itself sounds interesting enough.”
“Huh. All right.”
“I take it you don’t?” Olivia’s gaze followed Jaime’s finger trailing over the spine of a novel.
“No. I don’t read fiction.”
“What?”
Jaime chuckled. “You sound offended.”
“No, no. I just… Why?”
“I never got into it. Suspension of disbelief and all that. I struggle with it.”
“But you spent your Thursday evenings at neverending pages?”
“I love books, just not fiction. Creative non-fiction is a thing, you know.”
“Oh God, you read biographies, don’t you?”
“I resent the judgmental tone, Counselor. I didn’t judge you for being entertained by imagination-fueled constructs.”
“I suppose if your day job involves judging others, you might be sensitive when you end up on the receiving end, Your Honor.”
Jaime inhaled sharply, and her cheeks flushed. It didn’t look like anger, and she always seemed to grow slightly tense whenever Olivia called her by her title.
At first, she feared it was the reminder of their potential conflict of interest, but as time passed, she wasn’t so sure, and she also couldn’t deny the thrill rushing through her at Jaime’s reaction.
“Don’t they say you shouldn’t knock things until you’ve tried them?”
“Who are ‘they’? And I’d say it depends. There’s stuff I definitely don’t want or need to try. Meth and sex with a man come to mind.”
Jaime snorted. “Touché.”
“Besides, have you even read fiction?”
“Of course. That’s how I know I don’t like it.”
“Maybe you just haven’t read the right book yet.”
Jaime’s eyebrows rose. “Like some say you might not have found the right man yet?”
“Wow. That’s…so not in the same ballpark.”
Jaime nodded as they continued their little walk, pausing at several sections to inspect the books.
“What if we switch? I recommend a book to you, and you suggest one for me.”
“You’d read a biography?”
Olivia emitted a playful groan. “If I must.”
“I also read a lot of philosophy. That might be more your speed.”
Warmth spread through her at Jaime remembering their discussion from the bar. “Yes. I’d enjoy that more.”
“What about the biography of a philosopher?”
“Let’s not push it.”
“All right. What will you give me?”
Olivia grinned, once more unable to stop herself from bumping into Jaime. “I have to think about it.”
“The Brightwood Fair is taking place next Saturday. I’ll be near the Artisan Grove around two. Maybe you’ll think of one by then, if you happen to be in the vicinity.”
“Yeah. That’s a distinct possibility.”
Olivia squealed, clutched the package to her chest, and ran inside her bungalow. She tore open the envelope and smiled. This was so perfect it almost hurt.
Jaime better like her choice. She would never admit the effort she put into selecting the perfect book. Olivia almost felt like she’d been preparing for the bar exam again. She’d even dreamed about it.
How utterly ridiculous, but what a responsibility!
She had spent several days on her research, foregoing so many contenders, most of them for being too sentimental.
Once she settled on her choice, she ordered it, and in her excitement, didn’t realize it wouldn’t get delivered until today, Saturday, the same day she was supposed to meet Jaime at the fair.
Olivia rushed to the bathroom to shower.
At least she’d prepared an outfit. She’d spent most of her morning choosing and discarding different selections until settling on a pair of fitted dark blue jeans, a soft white short-sleeved blouse tucked in at the waist, and a lightweight olive-green jacket, just in case.
She paired it with ankle boots and simple gold hoop earrings, her hair loosely tied back in a low ponytail. It was comfortable, stylish, and just enough effort to look like she hadn’t overthought it—though she definitely had.
On her way out the door, she grabbed the book and shoved it in her purse before hurrying to her car.
She was running late.
By the time Olivia found a parking spot and made it to the fair, it was already fifteen minutes past two, but surely Jaime wouldn’t just leave.
She strode through the pathways they’d created leading her by various little booths, vendors selling 3D printed figurines and toys, candy, pickled vegetables of any kind, knives—she did a double take there—until she reached the Artisan Grove with its jewelry, paintings, drawings, and other arts and crafts items.
Would Jaime like the book? Perhaps it was too personal. Why didn’t she go for something more classic, like The Left Hand of Darkness? Jaime would have enjoyed the intellectual depth, but then again, she struggled with suspension of disbelief, so science fiction or fantasy weren’t good choices.
Olivia clutched her purse string, gazing around the various stalls, until Jaime once more appeared out of nowhere at her side.
“You’re late.”
Olivia’s heart soared, and she couldn’t stop from grinning broadly. “Do you ever just say hello?”
Jaime tilted her head. “Now and then. I did greet you at the park, and if I recall correctly, you didn’t say hi back.”
“I was too busy being stunned.”
“I’m told I have that effect on people.”
“You sure have some effect,” Olivia drawled.
“You’re so rude sometimes.”
“Yes, well, you bring it out of me.”
Jaime hummed. “I prefer bringing other sounds out of you.”
Olivia flushed, ducking her head. She had zero reason to feel shy, especially after all they’d already done. “Yes, well…”
“Come on. I want to show you something.” Jaime grasped Olivia’s wrist and pulled her along, releasing her after what felt like a mere second, yet the touch of her cool fingers lingered on Olivia’s skin.
She followed Jaime through a throng of people until they reached a booth showcasing several sculptures.
Jaime halted in front of one that, upon first glance, seemed like a lot of noise—convoluted, a mess of sinews and curves.
She was about to ask Jaime what she was looking at when she saw it: two figurines at the center, entwined in a never-ending embrace while the world, chaotic and wild, went on around them as they remained undisturbed in their sheltered cocoon.
“Wow,” Olivia breathed, shifting her gaze from the sculpture to Jaime. Did they see the same thing, or make the same association because it reminded her of—
“Isn’t it amazing? Look at the detail! The meticulous way all these lines are carved.” Jaime traced her fingers over the smooth stone surface. “Look at how thin some of these connecting lines are. The skill to create something like this!” She shook her head.
Olivia smiled. She’d never seen Jaime so animated, and her flushed face and wide-eyes robbed Olivia of an answer consisting of more than, “Yeah.”
She noted the name of the sculpture, a lingering touch. Fitting. She drew her fingers over the name plate.
“Do you want to get something to eat?” Jaime asked.
“Sure. What are you in the mood for?”
“How about some fries? They might even have red wine here.” She grinned almost impishly.
Olivia laughed. “Sure. But that means we have to stay a while so I can digest the alcohol before driving back home.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
They picked up their food and a glass of wine for each before finding a space at a table, eating in companionable silence.
“It’s truly a delicious and terrible combination,” Jaime said with a sigh, wiping her hands on a napkin.
“Agreed.” Olivia finished her last sip of wine. “You know, I’ve been thinking, I still don’t get how you’re such an idealist about justice and humanity, but you can be so…closed off personally.”
Jaime met her gaze. “Believing in humanity is easier than believing in people.”
Olivia frowned. “What does that even mean?”
Jaime shrugged. “With humanity, you look at the long arc—it bends in the right direction, over time. But with individuals? More often than not, people let you down.”
Olivia chuckled. “I’m the opposite. I find it much harder to believe in the good of a group than in a person. People are good, but humanity sucks.”
Jaime smirked. “We’re quite the pair.”
“That we are.” Olivia smiled faintly, considering Jaime’s words.
How odd that the woman who kept her walls so high could believe in the progress of humanity, yet she, who sometimes thought the world needed cleansing by fire, especially whenever she made the mistake of reading the comments section on social media, would find hope in the smaller, more intimate moments between people—moments like this.
“Oh, I have something for you!”
“You do?”
Olivia opened her purse and pulled out the book, pushing it over the table toward Jaime.
“You found one!”
“You doubted me?”
Jaime’s gaze found Olivia’s. “No.”
Olivia struggled to look away, wondering if she was reading into this answer, perceiving a subtext that only existed in her mind.
Jaime blinked rapidly, refocusing on the book in her hands. “Veronika Decides to Die?” She sounded incredulous.
“It’s not what it sounds like. You said you don’t like fiction because you can’t suspend your disbelief, and this book is… It doesn’t need you to do that.”
Jaime flipped it around, reading the back cover. “Huh.”
“It delves into existential themes and the meaning of life. I thought it might resonate with your philosophical tendencies.”
“It does sound interesting. Thank you.” She leafed through a few pages, finding the small bookmark Olivia had added.
Heat flamed in Olivia’s cheeks, and she gazed at her empty glass, wishing she hadn’t already finished it.
Jaime flipped the bookmark. “What’s that? Oh.” She traced the paper with her finger. “Is that…your phone number?”
“Yes. I thought it could be useful to…” She trailed off, unsure what to say that wouldn’t sound incredibly dumb.
Instead of offering a reply, Jaime rummaged through her own purse before handing Olivia a book, too.
Olivia’s smile almost hurt when she accepted it. “That’s quite the doorstopper.” She drew it closer.
“It’s worth a read. I didn’t think length would intimidate you.”
Olivia’s gaze snapped up, and she stared at Jaime with wide eyes.
Jaime frowned. “What?” A pause. “Oh.” She rolled her eyes. “Someone’s mind is in the gutter.”
“I don’t think your mind needs to be in the gutter to get soaked with that particular meaning.”
“Soaked? That’s much more appropriate given the company, don’t you think?”
Olivia flushed. “I meant like getting soaked by a car driving through a puddle when you stand right next to it, as in, unavoidable, not…” She bit her lower lip.
“Sure. Just like I was talking about the length of the book,” Jaime drawled, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Olivia glowered, but quickly shifted her focus to the book. “I never heard of her.”
“I read an article about the book first, and it piqued my interest. Figuring explores the intersection of science, art, love, and the search for truth, all through the lives of various historical figures.” She sighed.
“I thought you might like it. But I must warn you, I became completely obsessed with Margaret Fuller while reading it and went through the rabbit hole with my research on her. I ended up reading all her written works.”
“Duly noted. Thank you, Jaime.”
Jaime ducked her head, picking up her empty glass before realizing its lack of contents. “Want to get another one?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She peeked at her watch. “Wow. It’s later than I thought.”
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Huh? No, no, but I don’t want to take up your entire Saturday.”
Jaime leaned back. “How do you take up what’s freely given?”
Olivia’s lips parted.
“I booked a hotel room. It’s within walking distance from here.”
“Oh,” Olivia breathed, holding Jaime’s intense gaze, and with her heart racing and her fingers tingling, everything around them fell away, and they resembled the sculpture, standing still in silence while the world around them spun on in its daily chaos.