11. Olive
11
OLIVE
“W hat about holding hands?” Leo asks.
I lift one. “Sure.”
He intertwines his warm fingers with my icy ones, and I can’t understand why it feels completely right. Why do they fit perfectly, like his hands were made for mine? I groan inwardly. What a cliché. I’m deleting my romance Tbr, TV series, and movies, replacing them with thrillers full of blood and gore. No more love stories making me believe I’ll find my person. My soulmate.
I’d rather not go to the party. I’d be perfectly happy having him to myself. It’s not about sex, though my hormones are losing their patience. You’re here to be social.
“Your hand’s nice and warm. Thank you. Mine get cold when I’m nervous.”
“Once you spend more time with my friends tonight, I think you’ll relax. They’re good people. Most of them, anyway. I don’t know everyone here. Some of them live in LA. You mentioned you lived there, right?”
“Yeah, but it feels like ages ago.” Another lifetime.
“It’d be funny if you recognized somebody.”
“Highly doubt it. LA is a massive city.” I say nothing else, hoping he catches on that I don’t want to talk about it.
As we get closer to the party, I squeeze Leo’s hand like a stress ball. My heart beats to the bass coming from down the hall. We reach the door, and he opens it and motions for me to go in first. I step into an intimate ballroom with cocktail tables adorned with silver tablecloths scattered about. Strings of twinkling white lights drape from the ceiling, casting a canopy-like illusion. Guests fill the black-and-white checkered dance floor in the center of the room, swaying to the beat. Glasses, streamers, confetti, silver and black balloons, party hats, and other items cover the tables and floor. I wouldn’t want to be the one cleaning this mess after the party is over.
Technotronic’s “Pump Up the Jam” plays, and I’m whisked back to LA when I used to go clubbing with my friends. Those are the happy moments I want to remember. If only they were all like that.
“I love this song,” Leo and I say in unison.
“Jinx.” I blurt it a millisecond faster than Leo does, then form my index finger and thumb into an L and press them against my forehead. “Loser,” I sing. We burst out laughing as I bounce lightly on my toes. “I’m a huge fan of eighties and nineties music.”
“Same here. Match made in heaven,” he says, with a megawatt smile. “Want a drink?”
“Yes. I’m dying of thirst.” He guides me to a connected room away from the dance area. The atmosphere is quieter, making it easier to talk. To the left is a lengthy bar with small clusters of people drinking and chatting, some already looking drunk and others on their way. Large circular tables stand to the right, likely where they had dinner tonight before the clock struck twelve.
We approach the bar, and a woman yells, “Leo, where the hell have you been?” The redhead from the café runs up to us. The crowd behind her turns and watches. “Ah, the mustache is gone. Yay! We can see your cute face again,” she says, squeezing his cheeks. “Happy New Year.”
A stunning man appears and wraps his arm around her. My stomach makes a loop, and I freeze in place. No fucking way . It can’t be him.
“Olive, this is Ellie Moore and her husband, Sam. This is their party.”
I put my hands on my cheeks. “No way. The Samuel Moore? The soccer player from the LA Galaxy?”
Sam nods with a relaxed smile. “That’s me, the retired soccer player from the LA Galaxy.”
“Yes, sorry. That’s right. I can’t believe it. My brother’s going to die. We’re huge fans. We used to go to the games when he’d visit me in LA. It’s really great to meet you both.” I realize I’m shaking their hands with too much enthusiasm. I let them go. “Sorry. This is a bit much for me. It’s been a crazy day.” I’m totally starstruck, and my face and ears are on fire.
“So you live in LA?” Sam asks. “What area?”
My excitement dies. It’s your fault—you mentioned LA. “Uh, I went to nursing school there. Now I live in a small town north of Seattle.”
“Do you miss it?” Sam asks.
“Nope,” I say, not open for discussion.
“Me neither,” Sam agrees, sipping his beer.
“We live in Seattle. Sam’s the coach for the soccer team at Seattle University…who won the championship this year!” Ellie throws her hands in the air, and the group around us chants the team’s name as if they’re in the stadium. Once it quiets down, she continues, “I’d tell you to come to a game with your brother and Leo, but the season is over. Come in the fall!”
“I’ll have to make sure I still know Leo then.” Everyone laughs. “Without his mustache, it might be difficult.” Who the fuck am I?
“Hey.” He nudges me with his hip. “You said you didn’t like it.”
“Just kidding.” I caress his cheek with the back of my fingers. “You know I love your freshly shaven lip.” Leo throws his head back and laughs. It lights me up when I can make him do that. Ellie assesses us with a slight, knowing nod.
“Hey, Sam, can I take a picture of you and Olive for her brother?” Leo asks, motioning for me to go stand by Sam.
“Sure. But let’s all get in,” he responds, his arms open wide for all of us to squeeze in.
“Really?” I squeal like an annoying fan, then bite on my lip to shut up. “I’m sure you’re bothered all the time.”
“Those days are long gone. Most people don’t recognize me anymore.” He doesn’t sound annoyed at all.
“Which is nice for me,” Ellie chimes in, kissing his cheek. “I get him all to myself.” Can they be any more beautiful together? With her red hair and green eyes and his wavy brown hair and deep blue eyes, I can just imagine what their kids would look like.
I pat my pockets. “Shit, I left my phone in my room.” I didn’t want to deal with calls or messages tonight.
“I’ll take the picture with mine. Let’s do a selfie,” Leo suggests. Everyone agrees and squeezes in together. I’m standing between Leo and Sam like a sandwich, and I won’t complain. He takes several pictures because half of them were hilarious. I thank Sam profusely.
I wring my hands as adrenaline pumps through my body. “Leo, can you send me those pictures?”
“I would, but I can’t,” he replies. My eyebrows shoot up. “I mean, I’m your fake boyfriend, and I don’t even have your fake phone number. What the hell is that all about?” he whispers comically.
“At that time, you hadn’t earned it. Now that you got me a picture with my favorite soccer player, I’ll give it to you.”
He hands me his phone, and I add my number under Fake Girlfriend. He chuckles when he sees it.
The thrill of meeting Sam dies down and the guests resume chatting in their circles. I wave my shirt away from my body, trying to cool off. Leo brings me some champagne and a bottle of water like he’s read my mind. I down the water in seconds, surprised at how thirsty I am. Then I sip the bubbly. My mouth fizzes with the dry sweetness dancing on my tongue.
Once my glass is empty, I go to the bar to get another while Leo talks to Ellie. The DJ is playing great dance music, and I tap my fingers to the rhythm on my thigh. Sam comes up alongside me at the bar. I berate myself mentally for leaving my phone behind. I’d send a picture to Andy right now. I turn my head and smile at him. Act normal!
“So Olive, how do you know Leo?”
The bartender places my drink in front of me, and Sam orders another beer. I take a long sip to delay my response because I’m not sure what to say. Since it doesn’t feel right to lie, I give him a broad answer instead.
“Funny story… We met today and hit it off. I’m a guest at the hotel.”
His eyebrows soar. “No shit. Well, that fills in the blanks.” The bartender slides his beer to him. He doesn’t drink it right away.
I lift my glass to my lips again to hide behind it. “What do you mean?”
“Ellie and I were pretty shocked to see him enter the room holding hands with you. He told Ellie he wasn’t bringing a date. I’m pretty sure we would’ve known if he had a girlfriend.”
“Nope, just fast friends.” Maybe one day we could be more . “How did you meet Leo?” Time to switch the focus to him.
“Funny story,” he mocks me. I raise an eyebrow. He smirks and takes a pull of his beer. “Ellie and I were celebrating our anniversary in the Cayman Islands. Leo was there to review the resort. We met at the hotel bar and have been friends ever since. He’s one of the best men I know.” Funny how that’s the second time I’ve heard that today.
“He lures you in with that incredible smile and those amazing eyes.” I look over at Leo, and my heart thumps. “And then when he speaks, there’s no going back.” I turn back to Sam and shrug. “At least that’s what happened to me today.”
He eyes his glass while he traces circles on the rim with his index finger. “I get it. Ellie and I joke that if she weren’t married to me, she’d be married to him.” He chuckles, then looks back at me. “She loves him to death. He could put a smile on anybody’s face, and he’s a blast to be around. Ellie hates that he’s always on his own. Of course she wants to play matchmaker.”
I want to say, someone like Bethany , but I refrain. I’m suddenly feeling quite possessive and my claws are ready to pop out. This is a side of me I didn’t know I had.
Jennifer Lopez’s “Let’s Get Loud” comes on, and some guests whistle and clap, then filter out toward the dance floor. I itch to dance too.
“Having fun?” Leo surprises me from behind.
I turn around and notice Sam is gone. “Hell yes.” I shimmy my hips, then drink some more. At this rate I’ll be drunk soon, since I ate hours ago. “I had a nice chat with Sam. He asked about us.”
“Ellie asked too. I was honest and told her what happened with Bethany. And about the fake girlfriend thing to keep Bethany away. She asked me how we met, but I couldn’t answer because her cousin interrupted us.”
“ Phew . I didn’t want to lie to Sam, but I didn’t mention the fake girlfriend thing. What did she say? Is she mad?”
“Opposite. She said she’ll go along with it. And that she’ll talk to Bethany. Ellie’s cool.”
“I Gotta Feeling” from the Black Eyed Peas comes on next, and I turn to face the dance floor in the other room. Perfect song for how my night is going.
“Want to dance?” Leo says next to my ear, his chest skimming my back. I fight the urge to lean against him, hoping he’ll wrap his arms around me.
I glance over my shoulder. His face is close enough to kiss. “I do, but I haven’t danced in years.”
“Who cares? It’s like riding a bike, right? I’m a little rusty too. Let’s go.”
I down the rest of my drink and put the empty glass on the bar. He grabs my hand and leads me to the other room.
We weave between people until Leo stops us in the middle of the dance floor. Must we be in the center of everyone? When I used to go clubbing, I thought I danced pretty well and confidently. I dig deep to find that piece of me again, hoping I won’t make a fool out of myself.
Leo and I start off slow, and then it’s as if someone flipped a switch on him. He unleashes a dance that electrifies the room. I’m frozen in place because I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Rusty, my ass! Maybe I shouldn’t be that surprised after he showed off some moves when we were at his cottage. Now I’m out of rhythm because my focus is on him. He’s awesome, and it’s like he’s a totally different person. His eyes are closed and the look on his face is different—almost distant but elated. Other guests are watching him too. I’m waiting for the crowd to split like the Red Sea and for a big spotlight to shine down on him.
His golden eyes flutter open and zone in on me. He shimmies over with a wicked grin, grabs my hand, and spins me around twice. I squeal with surprise and try to keep my balance.
“Come on, FG. Let your hair down,” he murmurs in my ear. He pulls off the hair band he was wearing and shakes his head, making his hair wild and untamed.
He’s the most captivating man I’ve ever met. I can’t take my eyes off him. The top four buttons are open on his snug black shirt, and I can see smooth skin, shiny with sweat. He’s rolled up his sleeves, revealing his toned forearms again. His dark jeans sit low on his hips, and accentuate his muscular ass. The constant buzz of arousal pumping through me since I met him roars.
Leo points to my bun. I hesitate, then unravel my hair, letting it cascade over my shoulder. He motions for me to keep going. With a burst of confidence, I bend over, shake my hair out with my hands, then stand up again. Not the best idea because my head’s spinning. I push my hair to the side, hoping to look as wild as he does. His heated eyes trace the curves of my body, and I think my pants will melt off.
Leo stalks up and pulls me into his arms. “You’re so fucking sexy, Olive. Own it . Now dance.” His voice has a deep commanding rumble to it that turns me on even more. Maybe I like to be told what to do too. The dance music changes to a Rihanna song that I don’t know the name of, and he performs like a Magic Mike dancer. What other surprises is he hiding?
He takes my hand again, and we dance like our lives depend on it, disregarding those around us. I surrender myself to the addictive rhythm as the music seizes control of my body. The pulsating bass propels my heart into a faster cadence, and, exhilarated, I release all inhibitions. My stomach hurts from laughing, and I’m sweating profusely. It’s the best I’ve felt in a long time. Free of worry. Free of negative thoughts. Free of guilt. I hope it doesn’t end.
After a while, I know I need to stop and drink some water before I pass out from dehydration. On the other hand, if I don’t go to the bathroom soon, I’m going to have an accident. I grab Leo’s arm and yell into his ear that I need a break. He nods and keeps dancing like he’s the Energizer Bunny.
I drag myself away and find the ladies’ room. I open the stall door when I’m done and almost trip over Tonya, who watches me with glassy eyes. Is she drunk or—wait! Is she crying ? I look around to see if anyone else is with her, but we’re alone.
When I look at her again, a tear rolls down her face. I reach for her. “Tonya, are you okay? Did something happen? Are you sick or did you hurt yourself? Should I get Leo?”
“No. Please don’t.” She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tightly. I freeze, knowing I’m a sweaty mess and we’re in the bathroom, no less. Awkwardly, I hug her back. What else am I going to do?
“Thank you,” she says, her voice cracking.
“For what? Want to go outside and talk somewhere else? Maybe get some fresh air.” Her arms drop, and I put distance between us.
“No. I don’t want Leo to see me like this.” She takes several deep breaths, then wipes the wetness away from under her eyes, smearing the running mascara. She glances at her reflection in the mirror and gasps. “Oh, God, I’m a mess.”
I grab a couple of tissues from a fancy dispenser and hand them to her.
“Are your eyelashes fake?” She asks it like it’s a normal question to throw out there after she just broke down in tears. Is she drunk?
“Nope. They’re all mine. I don’t even have to wear mascara. I lucked out in that department,” I say to her reflection in the mirror.
“If we could all be that lucky,” she mumbles, pointing at her mascara-streaked cheeks.
While she wipes under her eyes, I wash and dry my hands. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and draw back. My hair! Sweat-slicked strands stick to my neck, while the rest is a wild mess. I push the hair back with one hand and wave the other one to cool off.
Finally, because the silence is killing me, I ask, “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
She tosses the dirty tissues in the garbage, then grabs a couple more. “I’m sorry, Olive. I know I’m acting crazy and we don’t know each other. It’s, I—Leo was dancing .” Her eyes well up with tears again. “Dancing!”
“And…?”
“He hasn’t danced in, like, five years.” She blows her nose like a trumpet, then wads up the tissue.
Five years? Still not getting it. “I need more than that. Why?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s his story to tell.” She props herself against the counter and crosses her arms.
Then why bring it up?
“Y’know, Leo is a cheerful guy. Always Mr. Social. People can’t help loving him. But they don’t see him like our family does. Most don’t know him the way we do. And what I saw tonight was nothing like how he’s been. He used to love to dance, and he was fucking good at it.”
“He’s amazing. I didn’t expect it at all. I felt like I was watching a TikTok reel.”
“Exactly. Out on that dance floor, he looked more alive than I’ve seen him in a long time. There’s fire that’s locked up inside him, and I finally saw a glimpse of it again. That’s what made me cry.” She shakes her head, pointing to the wet streaks lining her face. “And now I can’t stop. No more alcohol for me.”
“But why thank me? I didn’t do anything.”
“Believe me, you did. You lit that flame again. I saw it a little back at his place, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. He meets hundreds of people every year, and not one has accomplished what you have in less than a day. And the way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the only girl in the room. Fake girlfriend or not, there’s something sizzling between you two. Don’t think I didn’t see you almost kiss at midnight.”
The kiss she interrupted. My face tingles, and I shrug. “Heat of the moment, I guess. Fake moment.”
“Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that.” She grins. I prevent myself from laughing while she begins straightening the tissue dispensers and the basket of travel toiletries. Then she rearranges the stuff in the basket and wipes down the counter.
“All I can say is, he’s been the best distraction since I arrived. It’s impossible to be in a shitty mood when he’s around. I don’t know anybody who throws off such intense positive energy like Leo does. It’s hard to believe he’s not who he portrays himself to be.”
“Don’t you worry. It’s not an act. He’s just holding back.”
Holding back? What would he be like when he’s in full force? Now I’m really curious. And confused. But is it really any of my business?
The bathroom door swings open, and a couple of women stumble in. They look as wrecked as we do. Tonya introduces me to them, and I politely slip out of the bathroom. That conversation took longer than I thought. Leo has to be wondering where I am. I’m going to pretend that chat didn’t happen. It seemed too private for me to know.
Like he’d volunteer that information to a complete stranger.
But are we really strangers at this point?