Remy

36. Olivia

OLIVIA

11:45 a.m. Me

Any news? I’m worried.

11:50 a.m. Me

Please tell me you’re okay.

12:01 p.m. Me

Should I prepare to flee the country?

12:17 p.m. Me

I can’t believe I didn’t thank you for the weekend. It was incredible… The perfect last hurrah—or so it seems.

12:17 p.m. Me

Not gonna lie, I probably would’ve preferred to lose my virginity before I died, but ???♀?

12:38 p.m. Me

If you can’t already tell, I’m panicking. I should’ve downloaded a tracker app to your phone.

12:39 p.m. Me

If we survive your uncle, would a tracker be a realistic request?

12:39 p.m. Me

Just a tiny little one. You wouldn’t even know it was there.

1:05 p.m. Remy

You’re fucking adorable.

1:06 p.m. Remy

I’m fine. You’re fine. There’s nothing to worry about. The Lorenzo situation has been sorted.

1:06 p.m. Me

?? He knows and doesn’t care?

1:06 p.m. Me

That doesn’t seem like a Lorenzo kind of reaction…

1:08 p.m. Remy

I promise everything is okay. We just need to lay low for a while until external issues die down. You’ve got roughly a week, then you’re all mine.

Monday

6:03 a.m. Me

Despite your reassurance I’m kinda surprised I lived through the night. I kept one eye open and everything.

6:07 a.m. Remy

Pyro, there’s nothing to worry about. And even if there was, I’d never let anything happen to you. Get some sleep tonight, and I’ll see you soon.

Tuesday

11:21 a.m. Me

But what if you’re already dead and I’m currently texting with one of your uncle’s men? What if I’m actually having this conversation with Salvatore?

11:39 a.m. Remy

[photo upload of Remy’s unimpressed glower, his lips kicked slightly in mirth]

11:39 a.m. Me

That could be an old image.

11:40 a.m. Remy

I can send you a pic of something very few people would recognize if you prefer.

11:41 a.m. Me

??

11:41 a.m. Me

Are you talking about the scar on your leg or…?

11: 43 a.m. Remy

Definitely not my scar, Pyro. And don’t forget that spanking is still on the table if you continue with the sass.

Wednesday

2:49 p.m. Me

My dad hasn’t worked much this week. Instead he’s been visiting with friends and relatives. It’s like he’s on a farewell tour. I hate it.

3:05 p.m. Remy

Maybe you should take some time off too. Want me to find someone else to help with the workload?

3:33 p.m. Me

No thanks. Your recruitment of Wesley was bad enough. I’m pretty sure he’s already slept with Ivy, despite me warning him not to. When can I set him on fire?

3:33 p.m. Me

I mean—when can I fire him?

3:35 p.m. Remy

Why do I suddenly feel like the least psychotic person in this conversation?

Thursday

5:57 p.m. Me

Thanks for the flowers. They almost made me cry.

6:25 p.m. Remy

Flowers? What flowers?

6:34 p.m. Me

I know it was you. Who else would send me fifty red roses with a card that says—I can’t wait to see you again?

6:36 p.m. Remy

Salvatore, for starters. Expect the unexpected, Pyro.

6:38 p.m. me

??

6:38 p.m. me

So was it you or him?

6:38 p.m. Me

Remy??? Do I have a house full of roses sent from your unhinged brother?

6:38 p.m. Me

You’re fucking with me, right?

6:38 p.m. Me

REMY???

6:39 p.m. Remy

Yes, I’m fucking with you. I’m glad they only almost made you cry.

6:40 p.m. Me

When will I get to see you again?

6:42 p.m. Remy

Your dad said you’re having dinner with him Friday night. I’ll see you then.

6:43 p.m. Me

Well, you best be prepared for your own spanking because that whole Salvatore-stalker joke wasn’t funny.

Friday night rollsaround faster than I could’ve anticipated, given my excitement.

It also helps that managing the funeral home—with Ivy’s assistance—has meant every waking moment is spent with new and inspiring distractions.

But now I sit in my father’s living room, the television softly playing an old season of Below Deck while I nervously gnaw on my bottom lip in anticipation.

“Have I told you how much I loved last weekend?” Dad lays back in his outstretched recliner, his eyes closed, his smile bright.

“Yeah.” I nod. “Maybe once or twice.”

Fifty-five thousand times would be more accurate, but I can”t get enough of his joy.

Despite his packed social calendar, and the extra hours he’s needed for rest, we’ve made time to share at least one meal every day this week.

Today’s was an early dinner of Caesar salad with grilled chicken that Lucy organized. She even insisted on cleaning up to give Dad and I more alone time, while she remains in the kitchen stacking plates into the dishwasher, the music from her online playlist giving us an added sense of privacy.

“If you’re up for it, we could go away again,” I hedge. “I have the savings to splurge on a mini vacation. Not to the extent of formal attire and private chefs, but enough for something nice and simple. We could get a beach house and relax by the ocean.”

Any other day this week I wouldn’t have suggested it, but today he’s been better. Full of energy and taunting wisecracks. I’ve also been trying to focus more on the positives instead of the increased jaundice of his skin, and how he now rattles when he walks due to the bottle of pain meds that permanently live in his pocket.

“I’d love that,” he murmurs. “We could watch the sunset over the water. Maybe read a good book or two.”

“Sounds perfect.” I smile. “I can check out vacation rental websites tomorrow.”

He opens one eye to peer at me. “In the meantime, will you do me a favor?”

I purse my lips. “That depends on what it is. You’re now a man with a track record of choice decisions. You no longer have the green light for favors.”

“But this one is important.” He drags in a long, contented breath. “I’ve had a great week, fragolina. I couldn’t have asked for better. The only thing that could top it off would be knowing you’re out kicking up your heels with Allison and Ivy tonight.”

I shoot him an overly dramatic scowl. “You’re guilting me into going dancing again?”

“Last weekend’s installment was a great success, was it not?”

My face heats.

Thankfully he’s yet to ask any more questions about me and Remy. But maybe he hasn’t needed to. I’m sure the chemistry between us in that French restaurant was hard to deny.

“Please, Liv.” He leans forward, tilting his recliner back into the upright position to punish me with a hopeful smile. “Go out with Ivy and Allison. Let your hair down. Drink. Be merry. Shake your?—”

I sigh. “Dad, you know I don’t like the club scene.”

“But the girls need it. They’re itching to have a wild night but won’t go out anymore because they think it’s in bad taste to be enjoying themselves while I’m sick.” He clasps his hands in prayer. “Pretty please. Be their leader and show them it’s okay. Teach them that they shouldn’t put their lives on hold for anyone. Especially not an employer.”

The downplaying of his role in their lives hits me with a pang in the chest. “You’re more than their boss.”

“I know.” His expression turns somber. “But you understand where I’m coming from, don’t you? They can’t hit pause because of my struggles. If anything, they should be grasping life tighter around the neck and wringing it for all it’s worth.”

I agree. I just wish I didn’t have to be involved in the wringing.

“I want to end tonight knowing you’re out there living your life.” He smiles fondly to himself. “I want to picture you dancing again, your anxieties eased with a few cheap club drinks. It’ll be fun. But more importantly, it’ll be for me, which is all that matters.”

I roll my eyes. “If only they gave Olympic medals for emotional manipulation.”

He grins. “It’s the skill I never knew I had.”

I chuckle. “Fine. I promise to text the girls and see if they want to go out for a little while. But if they aren’t interested, I’m not forcing them.”

“You won’t need to.” His widening smile crinkles the skin around his eyes. “Because they’re already preparing. You’ve got—” He checks his watch. “—roughly an hour before a car will be at your house to pick you up.”

My face slackens. “What?”

His expression brightens with deviousness. “I leveled them with a similar dose of emotional manipulation this morning. They agreed and said they’d pick you up around nine.”

“Dad.”

“You’re welcome.”

I push to my feet. “No. It’s not enough time.” And I’ve waited all week to see Remy.

He chuckles as I panic. “You’ll be fine. You’ve never been someone who takes three hours to get ready.” He struggles to rise from his chair, and I quickly rush to help. “You’re beautiful without all the accessories and makeup. Just like your mother was.”

“They do say a father’s love is blind.”

“Don’t be like that.” His humor fades with each passing breath. “You’re a blessing, Liv. In every way imaginable. Never forget that.”

My skin prickles at the detour into sentimental territory.

I’ve waited a long time for the opportunity to bring up the truth, but it never seems like the right moment to drop the bombshell. Now is no different.

I’d prefer him to remain blissfully unaware of my knowledge. To rest easier, thinking he’s done his best to shelter me in that protective, fatherly way of his.

He cups my cheeks and places a kiss to my brow. “Promise me you’ll have a good time.”

I sigh with exaggeration. “It’s not exactly an easy promise given my aversion to crowds.”

“And people in general,” he snickers, his hands falling to his sides.

“You’re only cementing your cruelty.”

“And you’re only cementing how you’re the best daughter in the entire world.” He peers at me with beaming pride. “You’ve grown into such an amazing woman. Please take tonight to celebrate yourself. If not for you, then for me.”

Oh, God. Please don’t get sad. Please. Please. Please.

“Fine.” I nod. “But if I’m doing tonight for you, then you and Lucy need to supply the perfect Saturday morning hangover brunch for me tomorrow. Your shout.”

“I want nothing more than to have brunch with you tomorrow.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “I love you, fragolina.”

I swallow the emotion scrambling up my throat and wrap my arms around him. “I love you, too, Dad.”

He kisses my hairline. “Take on the world for me.”

“I’ll take on one club. For a few hours. Nothing more.”

His laughter rumbles into me before he ends the hug. “Okay.”

I grab my phone and keys from the coffee table, then shout a quick goodbye to Lucy before hustling out the door.

I’m already three steps down the staircase when I raise my gaze to see Remy strolling across the parking lot, hands in pockets, grin devastatingly handsome as he peers up at me.

My heart thunders to a stop, my feet almost tripping over themselves.

“Hey.” I slow my pace, fearing a misstep that will cause me to break my neck before I have the opportunity to touch him again.

“Hey, yourself.”

We meet at the bottom of the staircase, his aftershave making me high as I admire yet another crisp, stunning suit, the top two buttons of his matching collared black shirt undone.

“Long time no see, Pyro.” Those dark eyes take me in, his lips lazily kicked at one side in subtle flirtation.

The bastard seems completely unfazed by our reunion while I’m over here begging for my ovaries to stop screaming at me to climb him like the God of Pleasure he so clearly is.

“Yeah. Long time.” I shrug, attempting to match his demeanor. Two can play at this game.

He grins, slow and methodic.

My stomach launches itself into my throat.

Okay, so maybe two can’t play at this game because that cocky curve of lips has me dying.

He inches closer, his fingers brushing mine in the slightest breath of teasing contact. “I’ve missed you.”

“Are you sure?”

He seems to ponder my question with annoyingly exaggerated consideration.

“You’re so mean.” I shove at his chest, only endeavoring to make him laugh as he snatches my wrists and drags me into him.

“I’m not mean, Pyro. At least not to you.” He releases a wrist and wraps a hand around my neck, his rings scraping my sensitive skin as his lips press against my forehead. “I’m just trying to stay under control.”

I sink into him, fighting a groan, loving the familiarity of his hold. It feels like forever since we’ve touched. A lifetime in the space of five days.

“Did you enjoy dinner with your dad?” he asks.

I nod. “He’s in good spirits.” I take one more deep breath of his deliciousness then lean back to meet his eyes. “What are you here to discuss?”

“Nothing. I’m only making a quick trip to drop something off.”

I raise a brow, glancing down to his arms that are filled with a whole heap of me and nothing else. “Did you forget to bring it?”

He squeezes me. “Do I look like the careless type?”

“No, but it’d be nice if thoughts of seeing me again had even the slightest capacity to distract you into forgetting your purpose.”

“You distract me more than enough.” He retreats, his arms falling to his sides. “Did he convince you to go out?”

“Why am I still surprised that he tells you more than me? That man is like a strategic mastermind, and you’re his little co-conspirator.”

“I prefer partner-in-crime.” He winks and maneuvers around me to take the first step. “I’d better let you go and get ready. I’ll see you later.”

“You will?” My heart threatens to explode.

He smirks at me over his shoulder. “I suddenly feel like a night out.”

“Should I expect another painfully underwhelming reunion like this one?”

“I’ve waited all week to see you. I promise there’s nothing underwhelming about what I plan to do once we’re no longer standing under the full view of your father’s window.”

Heat filters through my chest, the deliciousness spreading to parts down south.

“Convince your friends to go to my club.” He continues up the stairs. “Your names are already on the VIP list.”

“What a gentleman,” I coo.

His smirk increases. “I promise I won’t be later.”

Holy hell.

Damn every single perfect, pretentious inch of him.

I’ve fallen for this man. Head over heels. Heart over mind.

“Goodbye, Remy.” I force my smile under control as I rush across the parking lot.

“Bye, Pyro.”

He stares down at me from the top landing as I climb into my car, his wicked grin stalking me until I accelerate out of view.

I’ve never driven so fast through the Baltimore suburbs in my life. Last weekend did a number on me. I’ve also never showered, shaved, and scrubbed my body all at the same time.

I’m in the middle of simultaneously applying ruby red lipstick to match my silken slip dress while yanking on my stiletto heels when a car horn beeps from my drive.

“Shit.” I slide a hand over the way-too-short hem that sits higher up my thighs than commonsense demands while inwardly cursing myself for dressing in something to impress Remy as I hop toward the front door, my other hand trying to secure the strap of my shoe around my ankle.

“Look at you.” Ivy wolf whistles from the open back window of the ride share. “Someone’s getting eaten tonight.”

Oh, my fucking god.

I shrink with embarrassment, knowing Lesley’s super spy senses would’ve overheard as I finally secure my shoe strap.

I glare at the car with my approach, mouthing, “I’ll kill you” to my best friend.

Ivy cackles as Allison’s laughter carries from the far side of the backseat.

“Not funny.” I yank open the door, forcing Ivy to scoot into the middle seat with a wave of my hand.

“You look incredible.” Allison stares at my dress as if it’s from another planet, because given my usual laid-back style, it practically is. “I’ve never seen you in anything like that before.”

“And you probably never will again. Lesley’s granddaughter gave it to me a year ago because it didn’t fit her anymore. I’m surprised I didn’t throw it out.” I slide inside feeling all kinds of uncomfortable, dump my clutch into my lap, and then yank on my belt.

“Okay, ladies.” The female driver eyes us from the rearview mirror. “Where are we headed?”

“Smoke Mirrors.” I pop my lips together, hoping my lipstick is okay seeing I didn’t have time to check.

Allison squeals. “I love that place.”

“Wait. Why?” Ivy grumbles. “Can’t we go somewhere else this time?”

“Nope. If you get to announce to my entire neighborhood that I’m getting eaten tonight, I’m calling dibs on our location.” I grab my cell from my clutch and look up the club’s address to show it to the driver. “Take us here please.”

“Liv,” Ivy sighs. “That place is?—”

“It’s the only club I know. And I feel comfortable there. Please, Ivy, just one more time,” I beg. “Would it help if I told you our names are on the VIP list?”

“Are you serious?” Allison clasps her hand around Ivy’s thigh with another squeal. “How the hell did that happen?”

“I guess Dad knows a friend of a friend.”

Ivy continues to vibrate with skepticism, the disparaging mood not budging even after I nudge my arm against hers.

“Pretty please, Ive.” I place a smacking red kiss to her bare shoulder. “With sprinkles on top?”

“Okay. Fine. Whatever you want. I just don’t like what I keep hearing about the place.”

I try not to feel offended. Really, I do. But I want her to like Remy’s club, especially when one day I’m hoping she’ll like Remy, too.

“So… Smoke Mirrors?” the driver asks.

“Hell yeah.” Allison bounces in her seat. “Let’s do this.”