Chapter 35
OLIVER
We made no promises, and we swore no vows, throwing ourselves headlong into the enjoyment of each other over the coming weeks. In some ways it was inevitable. We’re like two magnets with poles that attract and repel, depending on the way they’re held. I’d like to have told her I’d hold her always, but I know I’m not worthy of the honor. She deserves better, but for now, she’ll make do with me.
I’ll admit that I half expected Mitchell to kick up a legal stink following our altercation, but perhaps he realizes the longer he chases trouble, the more trouble will hound him. Or he could just be regrouping. I don’t really care. He’s not the sole focus of my attention anymore.
That’s not to say I’ve forgiven, forgotten, or even changed my plans. I suppose I’m just much happier. It’s true that Eve is unlikely to move far from my side as I negotiate Northaby’s purchase and beyond. But she’ll be there because she wants to be, not just because she doesn’t trust me with the animals’ welfare. She’s taken an interest in the outcome, of course. It’s just who she is. She will always champion those who have no voice.
Meanwhile, she continues to frustrate and beguile me in equal measure. But I’m not alone in my suffering, as I see she’s had a similar effect on Mandy. I find my mouth lifting reluctantly as I recall Eve’s malicious glee the morning of our very first visit. As I emerged from the walk-in wearing a tweed jacket, she laughed and said I looked like I was cosplaying a farmer. She wasn’t too impressed when I bought her a matching outfit for our next visit. But she wore it.
While I’ve more or less danced around the future of the safari park with Mandy, the old duffer seems certain that Eve will be the making of the place.
“It’s not on you,” I’ve reassured her. “I’ve promised him nothing, and neither have you. It’s not your fault he plays on deaf ears.”
She sees it. She knows it. Yet still she spends her evenings on her laptop (curled on the sofa or next to me in bed) investigating rehoming possibilities at other zoos and wildlife parks. It’s not an uncommon practice, thanks to facilities expanding to include new species or provide genetic diversity to existing ones. I think she finds comfort in that.
“They’re just preliminary investigations,” she’ll insist. “Nothing concrete. I know it really has nothing to do with me.”
But I see it troubles her. So I’m quietly conducting my own analysis for my eventual ownership.
My phone begins to ring, pulling me from my contemplation.
“It’s yours,” a gravelly tone barks down the line.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Dammit, Deubel. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Mandy, what a pleasure.” Satisfaction expands beneath my ribs as I process his unhappy declaration.
“Yes, yes.” His exhale whistles down the line. “Let’s just get to it. It’s time, I’m afraid. I can no longer hang on to Northaby. So, assuming you still want the old place, it’s yours for the asking price.”
“That’s such wonderful news.” My lips tip, and I find Atherton to be the last person on my mind. “Eve will be delighted.” At least, I hope she will be. Eventually.
“I’m disappointed you haven’t fully committed to the safari park, but I’m going to trust your young lady in the application of her thumbscrews. I am assured you will be cognizant of their welfare, in the meantime.”
“Of course, my lord. May I ask why the change of heart?”
He huffs, then sighs. “The roof is about to fall in on the Norfolk house. Do you know how much a new roof costs these days, Deubel?”
“I have a fair idea.”
“It’s bloody annoying that I can’t just off-load the place.” But his Norfolk estate is attached to his title. It can legally only be passed down to the next in line.
“I’m sure you understand safeguards will be set as a condition of the sale.”
As much as he can control them. What happens following the sale will be none of his business. Not that I intend to release tigers on the inhabitants of Surrey.
“Of course.” But I find my own pleasure suddenly short lived, a cold dread settling in my stomach. I’d foreseen Eve remaining by my side, at least for the animals’ welfare, but when she finds I have Northaby, will she insist on moving out? Her visa application is moving along. Ariana tells me she expects it to be complete within a couple of weeks.
“I have my back against the wall.” Mandy Mortimer’s voice pulls me back from my dread. “There’s nothing else for me but hope.”
But hope is not something I trade in.
The call ends, and I slump back in my chair. This is what I wanted—my ultimate goal. Why don’t I feel like I’ve won?
“I must be fucking crazy,” I mutter, dropping my head into my hands.
“Crazy in love?”
I sit up to find Fin leaning against the doorframe. “I’m certain that door was closed.”
“I heard you talking to yourself. Thought I should come in and check.”
I stare at him without answering. Maybe if I do it long enough, he’ll get the hint and piss off.
“I was speaking to Lord Bellsand,” I say when it becomes apparent I’m not that lucky.
Fin smiles like he doesn’t believe me, and, crossing the room, he drops into a chair on the far side of my desk.
“I thought only babies smile from wind.”
“Cute. You have babies on your mind.”
“What?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever imagined any of us as dads. I like playing daddy in the bedroom, but that’s kinda my limit.”
“You astound me,” I say. “And that’s not a compliment.”
“Don’t try to make out like I’m the only deviant here.”
“As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“No?” He plucks his phone from his pocket. Bringing his fist to mouth, he theatrically clears his throat.
“ A Little Bird Told Us ... ” He looks up, not bothering to hide a shit-eating grin.
“Fucking hell,” I groan. “What now?” I may have created a monster in helping that woman get her name on the column.
“Already cursing.” Fin tuts playfully.
“Just get on with it. The quicker you read it, the quicker you leave.”
He clears his throat again, making me want to punch it. “Our London lovers were recently spotted coming out of a property in Chelsea looking a little worse for wear—”
I sit up straight. “Drunk? When? That is absolute rubbish and borderline libelous.”
“—coming out of the exclusive club, Century.”
“Oh. That.” Eve was a little tipsy. Delightfully so. “And this is what constitutes news these days?” I mutter, pulling my laptop closer, feeling suddenly a hundred years old. “They ought to be careful with their language usage.”
“Oh, they were. Listen to this. The besotted businessman and his American love were described as clinging to each other like honeymooners, their chemistry electric and their hands everywhere, before they were whisked away in a chauffeur-driven car. This Little Bird is still clutching her pearls, because she makes that, allegedly, alfresco naughty twice in two weeks! ”
So we’d gotten a little handsy. But it was dark; there was no one around. Or so I thought. The strap of her top had slipped from her shoulder and ... “Is there an accompanying photograph?”
“No.”
“Good.” Una Smith must be bloody unhinged. This was not the deal we struck. At least she’s naming no names. Not that she needs to.
“Sounds like the real deal,” he teases.
“Sounds like a load of old rubbish. Speaking of deals, Northaby is done.”
“You got it? Well, that’s great.”
“Your enthusiasm underwhelms me, Phineas.”
He shrugs. “That place has been your hard-on.”
“The prospect of making money doesn’t excite you?”
“Money doesn’t make a person happy. Love does.”
I snort. Then frown. “How many glasses of wine did you have with lunch?”
“Oliver.” He draws out my name. “You’ve gotta admit the way you’ve been since Eve walked onto the scene is like night and day to how you were last year.”
“Last year was ...” A fucking mess. Atherton. Lucy. So much pain in those two names. I’m glad to finally feel as though I’m putting one of them behind me. Not that I’ll ever get over ... “Well, trying,” I say, settling on the word and banishing the rest from my thoughts.
“Oh, you weren’t irritated. You were a fucking beast. But I get it—you were under a lot of stress. But now? Now you’re a teddy bear.”
“Don’t be asinine.” Speaking of lunch, I think mine has given me a case of indigestion. I press my palm to my sternum at the sudden discomfort.
“Eve’s had a real calming influence on you.”
“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Eve makes me feel anything but calm—the woman is like a whirlwind.”
“I didn’t say she was calm. I said she made you calm. Anyway, what are you gonna do with the place?”
“Northaby?” I should be relieved in the change of conversational direction, but this ache ... “What I always said I would.”
“I think turning the place into a hotel is an amazing idea. It’ll be like a whole holiday venue. Luxury for the parents—pool, spa, and fancy restaurants—and then animal entertainment for the kids.”
“Yes, come and feed your offspring to the lions. Sounds like a lawsuit in waiting.”
“Not if it’s done right. You’ll keep part of the place private though, right?”
“What for?”
“For you. Eve. And maybe later, a few little Olivers and Eves.” He mimes the pitter-patter of little feet with his fingers. Arse. “Imagine living in that place.”
And I do—just for a moment. A moment of bliss. Bliss that’s short lived.
I used her for my own means. For revenge. I’m no better than Atherton, though it took me a while to admit that to myself. Aren’t I still using her now? Stringing her along, knowing I’m incapable of love? Unworthy of her love?
“You okay?”
“No. I don’t feel too well.” When this is all over, I probably won’t ever want to look at Northaby again.
“What is it?”
“I think I’m coming down with something.” I suck in a deep breath. “My chest hurts.” I can’t be having a heart attack at my age. Can I?
“You were okay a minute ago.”
“And now I’m not,” I snap. I don’t remember the last time I felt unwell. I have the constitution of an ox—I’m never ill.
“Your chest, huh?”
“Yes.” I rub my sternum with my knuckles. “What is that sensation? I feel like something has burrowed into it.”
“Into your heart?” The corner of his mouth kicks up. “It’s not—gasp! Horror!—love?”
“The heart is not some mythical vessel—it’s a muscle! What are you laughing about? I might be having a heart attack! Oof. Fuck. ” And now, I suddenly feel short of breath.
“Haven’t you ever heard the song ‘Love Hurts’?”
“Yes, and I’ve also heard the song ‘I Do Like to Be Beside the Seaside,’ but I’m not sure what that’s got to do with anything.”
“You should just admit it. Works for me. Eve is cool. She keeps you on your toes, and you need that.”
“Admit what? That we’re enjoying ourselves? That one minute, we’re at each other’s throats like cat and dog, and the next—”
“You’re the same species?”
“We are completely unsuited. She’s ethical, good, and kind. She’s a vet, for fuck’s sake! She fixes things, while I tear them apart.”
“For money.”
“Which she has no interest in. She deserves better than me.”
“Huh.” He brings his hand to his chin, stroking it pensively. “Don’t you think that’s a question for Eve?”
“What is that?” I circle a finger, indicating his face. “Are you playing at therapist? Because you can fuck right off! I don’t even want a safari park.”
“So why have you been chasing it?”
I usually have an immediate answer, but right now, it’s like that answer no longer makes sense.
“People have done worse for love.”
I’m not sure I like what he’s implying, even if it does strike a chord.
“You know, Van Gogh chopped off his ear.”
“Then gave it to a prostitute,” I enunciate, leaving him under no illusion about what I think of his advice.
“Maybe she showed him a real good time.” His eyebrows waggle.
Meanwhile, mine appear to be perspiring. I slick my hands over my face. “He was probably clinically depressed. Or suffering a mental break.”
“People have murdered for love, faked their deaths, tattooed lovers’ names on their skin. And you know why?”
“Because they’re idiots.”
“Because love is worth that risk. It makes a person feel euphoric, like they could take on the world. I hear it’s like being off your face on coke.”
“Well, that settles it.” I throw up my hands. “I’m definitely having a heart attack because I feel anything but euphoric.”
Fin frowns. “I’m not finished. When we fall in love—”
“People don’t fall in love,” I grate out. “Oops! Deary me, I nearly tripped and fell face fucking first into a love puddle?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t do that,” he says with a small grin.
“What?” I pull at my cuffs. Yank off my cuff links. Tug my shirtsleeves up my arms. I feel like I’m frying!
“Eat pussy. Only assholes don’t reciprocate.”
“Why do I even bother?” I mutter, pulling at my tie next.
“I read a study a while back,” he continues, completely ignoring my distress. “It said our prefrontal cortex, our brain’s control center, drops into low gear when we’re in love, and the amygdala, our brain’s threat-response system, shuts down.”
“So we fall in love because we turn into driveling idiots? I’m not sure how that helps.”
“Maybe that’s how you fall. All those warning systems turn off. You behave differently. Unlike yourself.”
“I’m not sure that was a scholarly peer-reviewed article. Sounds more like a Pulse Tok.”
“You think it’s bull?”
“What I’m questioning is if you can read at all.”
“Are your palms sweaty?”
I look down and fold my fingers inward. “A little. Could Andrew have turned off the air-conditioning?”
“Does your heart feel like it’s beating fast? Are you lightheaded?”
Yes and yes. “Could it be a virus?”
“It’s more like your fight-or-flight responses. You know why. You’re panicking because you’re in l-o-v-e,” he says, spelling out the word gleefully. Bastard.
“No,” I bark, using the tone reserved for Bo. “Don’t be an idiot.” Not that it works on him either.
“You’ve got all the classic symptoms. And I’m not just talking about how you’re feeling.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The ring from Garrard.”
“It’s a fucking monstrosity.” A manipulation. No need to mention how, for a split second, I saw an alternate life spilling out before me.
“The dog you’ve got living with you. Eve’s dog. I bet you’ve never had a pet, never wanted one. Not even a goldfish growing up.”
“So?” I frown.
“Tell me that’s not bending for love.”
More like bending for Eve’s manipulation.
“Punching Atherton out. Worrying about Eve. The donation to that dog sanctuary. Ha! You’re not as sneaky as you think!”
“Not sneaky at all, considering it went through accounts. It was a tax write-off.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t for love? To impress your love.”
“Idiot. I am clearly coming down with something. I need a doctor, not this pseudotherapist shit!”
“What you have, there’s no remedy for. Fight it, or give in—makes no difference. The bottom line is, there’s no escaping love.”
Inhaling a deep breath, I force myself to sit with his words, to stop denying them but rather feel what they do to me.
Fight or capitulate.
“Just be with me.” It’s what I asked her that night in the folly, my heart beating so hard that it hurt. A lot like now. “Be with me because you want me.”
I couldn’t look up at her, couldn’t take a denial. Instead, I turned my face and pressed my lips to her palm.
“I’m not asking you to promise me anything.”
“Be with me because you want to be.”
My heart spoke the words that my head was too fearful to give.
Because I love you.
I sit straight in my seat. “Well, fuck!”