Chapter 7
“This is all I could find,” Mallory said.
“It’s a lot,” Olivia commented, accepting the manila envelope from Mallory.
They had just finished eating a boxed takeout lunch in one of the public spaces of the Powell Library at UCLA. Mallory was an associate reference librarian there. Every now and then Olivia was aware of Mallory’s dog, Phoebe, her emotional support animal, swishing her tail in contentment from beneath Mallory’s chair. Every now and then she also made a gentle half-hearted yelp, to which Mallory obediently responded with a pinch of food from her lunch.
Olivia opened the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of photocopied newspaper and magazine articles and other materials about an organization called The Millionaires Club. She silently browsed through the pages, occasionally stopping at a headline or photographs that caught her attention. She glanced at Mallory in admiration.
“This is great. How did you find out about the club?”
“You said you were looking for someplace that could help you set up a charity fund or some kind of platform where low-income students could apply to get money for college or professional training. Patrick Bennett used to be a pro baseball player. He stopped playing because of injuries and then became this popular national sports commentator, and—you’re going to love this—he won the lottery a few years ago for $75,000,000,” Mallory said in a some-folks-have-all-the-luck tone. “So he comes up with this idea to form a foundation that would give back to people and organizations that certainly need help a lot more than he does.”
“I’m impressed,” Olivia murmured, quickly scanning one article. She looked at Mallory. “Have you read all of this? Who is this with him? Jean Travis?”
Mallory became animated, pushing her glasses up her nose. “You have to read everything I gave you, okay? I think she had something to do with the founding of the club, and she now works in some unofficial capacity in the organization. She used to work in the mayor’s office in New York City. And…she’s now Mrs. Bennett!”
Olivia silently studied the image of the handsome, smiling CEO and the pretty, serene woman at his side. For a long time she examined the photo and knew she definitely wanted to know more not only about The Millionaires Club but also about this young, attractive, influential couple.
Olivia slipped the pages back into the envelope. “I owe you,” she said.
“Yeah, you do, but you know I owe you more, so let’s just call it square.” She squinted at Olivia. “How come you can’t tell me where this money came from that you’re getting from the city that’s going to fund your project? Do you know who those bank robbers are and you turned them in and now you’re going to reap some reward?”
Olivia allowed herself a half grin, putting the envelope inside her tote bag resting on an adjacent chair. “It’s not that I can’t tell you. It’s that I don’t have enough information yet,” she said in a half truth.
“You said you were getting some money because of something that had happened in that house your aunt left you. What happened? How come you get money for it? Are you going to share?”
Olivia gave her attention to her friend. She and Mallory might never have met but for ending up in a rehab center at the same time several years earlier. That they had become friends had seemed unlikely, their lives, backgrounds, and even personalities being so different. But Olivia had also learned this to be true of her relationship with Tessa and Lynn, whom she’d met at a professional women’s luncheon.
“You know Lynn didn’t believe you that night,” Mallory said, absently scratching under the chin of her pet who’d surface from her lair to stand on hind legs, wanting to be picked up.
Olivia watched the pet and owner interact for a moment and then frowned at Mallory, but already she was on the alert. “I don’t know what you mean. What didn’t Lynn believe?”
“Tessa and I felt she was overreaching, but Lynn thought there was something odd about this white guy showing up and saying he’s an FBI agent. And that story about bank robbers skulking through your neighborhood didn’t fly with her at all.”
Olivia shifted in her chair and sighed, thinking fast. “Lynn was born suspicious. That’s probably why she’s such a successful attorney.”
“And still single,” Mallory offered dryly.
“We all are,” Olivia reminded her.
“Yeah, but you hate dating.”
“Not true. I hate online dating.”
Mallory studied her intently. “Do you want to get married again?”
Olivia shrugged. “I haven’t ruled it out, but I don’t really think about that. You know, Lynn has never shown, at least to me, that she’s remotely interested in getting married.”
“Not married, maybe. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a soft spot in her heart for finding someone to be in a relationship with. I think she wouldn’t mind having a boo of her own.”
“I don’t know. She can be real hard on people…especially men.”
“I think she’s been badly hurt at some point. Maybe even abused.” Mallory giggled. “I call Lynn a witch savant. Do not cross her or she will burn your ass! How did she become our friend anyway?”
Olivia sighed. “Maybe she needs us. Maybe…we need her. I sometimes think of all of us as lost-and-found souls.” She stared at Mallory. “What did she have to say about Sl—that…that agent who came by?”
“She just felt it was weird, the way he suddenly showed up. She didn’t believe a word of his excuse. Do you know him?” Mallory questioned.
Olivia’s stomach roiled. Her mind was racing to come up with an answer that wouldn’t betray her or give up secrets she wasn’t ready to share. So she gave the only possible response that would shield her—and Sloan—from further scrutiny.
“No, I don’t.”
When Olivia and her brother, Jackson, finally left his office at ALT Imaging, she was already preparing herself for one of his haven’t-heard-from-you-lately-what’s-going-on conversations. It would be the start of a careful but loving interrogation of her life. She knew that. It had gotten milder over the years, as she’d grown into adulthood and he had to act less like the older brother. Even less after she’d married Marcus. As a matter of fact, she’d met Marcus through Jackson. Marcus had been something of a prodigy under Jackson in medical school before switching to a surgery specialty. Jackson once said of Marcus, “He’s got great hands.”
“Sorry I made you wait,” Jackson said with some exasperation and weariness.
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mind people-watching outside your office. I do the same thing with students who come in and out of the school.”
“Yep,” Jackson agreed as they crossed the street, headed to a large commercial chain restaurant known for its all-day breakfast.
He held the door to let her precede him inside, and they were quickly seated. Jackson sighed heavily and immediately reached for his smartphone to check messages and voicemail. He didn’t bother asking permission, and Olivia didn’t expect it. He was a doctor at the mercy of patients and administrators and surgeons needing to schedule for his services in the radiology department.
She settled into the cushioned banquette seat and idly scanned the laminated menu. She knew what she wanted. It hadn’t changed since she was eleven and Jackson had first brought her here on one of his rare visits home from the first hospital he’d worked at in Philadelphia. It had been their thing, their routine. And Olivia had always felt closest to her brother when he insisted on these rituals that kept them a small family unit. Their parents were now gone. Being fifteen years older, Jackson, by default, was the head of their family. She was and always would be the baby of the family. Unexpected for parents approaching middle age…as Jackson was now reaching himself.
“I just have to make one little call…”
“Whatever,” she responded agreeably, beginning to relax after her own school day of teenage drama and a failed assembly program that the students didn’t enjoy and were vocal about it.
Olivia sat casually examining her brother, as she knew he would do to her as soon as he finished his current call. She sighed in contentment. She loved Jackson and loved having him as a protective brother who had never failed her nor ever given bad advice. If he could be faulted with anything, it would probably be his brief, overbearing vigilance when she began to date. She could appreciate his position now. But at the time it had created stress and contention between them. Olivia was relieved that they’d outgrown what was a difficult period for both of them.
She was startled out of her reverie when Jackson put down his phone, sighed, and sat back, regarding her silently just as she’d expected.
“What’s up?”
Olivia pushed the menu aside. She shrugged. “The usual. Lots of work at Harvest. A few students with discipline issues. A nonstudent who shows up repeatedly. He has a younger brother enrolled, and I’m not sure what to do about it. Not enough resources…”
“You know what I’m talking about, Liv.”
“I’m fine.”
He was watching her very closely, as if she were one of his patients and he was trying to ferret out what she wasn’t revealing. “Mm-hmm.”
“What about you? How’s Brett?”
“Still in London. Teaching a course at the International School. I’m going to try to get away for a few weeks in October to visit. But he’ll be back at the end of the semester in December.”
“Miss him?”
Jackson gave her a wry half smile. “Of course. But it was an invitation he couldn’t refuse. I guess it’s no different from when I had that consultation down in Texas a few years ago. I didn’t like being away, but that work looks great on my résumé. And you didn’t answer my question.”
They were interrupted when a waitress arrived to quickly take their order, and then they were alone.
Jackson didn’t let up. He stared at her and waited. Olivia suddenly realized there was a lot to talk about with her brother and she didn’t actually know where to begin. She focused on the biggest thing to happen to her that was an undeniable shocker.
“The city is giving me two million dollars I think that’s their final count.”
Jackson sat stone still not even blinking. Then he sat straight up and leaned on the table to regard her, eyes wide and sharp with questions.
“What did you say?”
Olivia repeated her announcement. And then she calmly and methodically detailed finding the money in their great-aunt’s house, turning it into the police, followed by a brief investigation of why money was hidden in the house and what she really knew about it. From the start Olivia knew that she was severely censoring the story, completely leaving out Sloan Kendrick and his significant part in it.
She was distracted with her brother’s rush of questions, forcing Olivia to focus on the discovery and how it all concluded with her being given the money she’d found.
Her pancakes, with all the trimmings, were served, along with Jackson’s Belgian waffles. The entire meal was taken up with the story and details of her adventure. Of course Jackson wanted to know what she was going to do with the money. And Olivia admitted she was considering options, including establishing a fund or scholarship or grant for low-income students like the ones at Harvest who never had enough resources available to them.
“So you’re not going to share with me? Your flesh-and-blood only sibling who’s practically raised you and kept you out of trouble…”
Olivia merely grinned at his sad tale. “Oh, please. You’re doing very well on your own. Mom and Daddy would be proud. And I don’t need to adopt you.”
“What are you going to do for yourself?”
“I’m thinking on it. The students and my girls have been ragging me about getting a real grown-up car and not that mom’s SUV that I use for school. That would be fun.”
“Okay. Consider it done. What else?”
“I don’t know,” she said, a bit impatient. “I want to do something different. I want to have fun and be daring and…and…not be afraid.”
Jackson averted his gaze, thoughtfully, and slowly shook his head. “You’re not afraid, Liv. You’ve never been afraid of anything.”
“Marcus didn’t think so.”
“Yeah…well…I can say it now, but I came to think Marcus was a little high-handed with you.”
“You never said so,” Olivia said with genuine surprise. “You never even let on.”
“I couldn’t. You were married to the man. I couldn’t criticize him to you. If you thought he was brilliant and wonderful…”
“He was brilliant.”
“It’s the wonderful part I had trouble with. To be honest, I always hoped you’d come to see him differently and maybe…you’d leave him.”
Olivia was already shaking her head. “I loved him. I believed that all of his giving me a hard time was for my own good. That he was…you know…protective.”
“His kind of protective wasn’t like my kind of protective. I believe that Marcus was doing much more than being protective. He was trying to keep you in a particular place so you didn’t outshine him.”
“But he did love me. He could be generous and helpful.”
Jackson sighed, throwing his napkin down and clasping his hands to gaze at her over the top of his knuckles. “That wasn’t love. That was insecurity masked as him thinking he knew what was best for you. In hindsight, it was really about what was best for him.”
“I never knew you felt that way.”
“Didn’t matter. The question is, how did you feel?”
“I wish you’d warned me,” Olivia whispered, truly sorry that she’d learned too late to make changes for herself. She had wanted her marriage to work.
“I couldn’t, Liv. It’s not like Marcus was physically abusive. I just came to believe he wasn’t good for you emotionally. But I decided to mind my own business. That was the wrong move.”
Olivia was momentarily lost in reflection, mostly just remembering how it had all ended. Her in an accident, not exactly at death’s door but serious enough.
“In answer to your question…” Olivia said, retreating from the topic. There was nothing more to say about Dr. Marcus Palfrey, doctor extraordinaire, overbearing husband. “I’m fine. The money I’m getting is probably the most interesting thing that’s happened lately. And I’m looking into how to manage it. I’m not going to talk about it.”
“Good. That’s all I want to hear,” Jackson said decisively, satisfied.
Olivia thought again and conjured up an image of Sloan and that sweet, unexpected kiss behind the back of her SUV. The sense of excitement she now felt around him. The phone call the next day at her office—he knew that neutral place would make her feel safe—when he asked if she was free yet for a celebratory dinner.
Not yet.
“There is something else,” Olivia began thoughtfully. “I…think I’ve met someone.”
Jackson’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? On the internet? One of those crazy websites where the guys put up false profiles and swear it’s all true?”
He was as suspicious as she was about the legitimacy of meeting someone online who wasn’t weird, secretly married, or looking for a hookup and had real-world potential.
Olivia gave a small grin but shook her head, cautious again. “Actually, no.”
“The old-fashioned way?”
“I’ll just say unexpected.”
“Well,” he quietly coaxed, “where…how did you meet this person?”
Olivia stared at her brother. “At school.”
Jackson’s brows shot up again. “School? Well, he can’t be dangerous. Weird, maybe…”
Olivia chuckled quietly.
“But not dangerous.”
She considered the options. “Maybe you’re half-right.”
He grunted. “I’m not even going to ask which half. Go on.”
“There something about him.”
“You keep saying him.”
She gnawed the inside of her lip, not because she didn’t want to make a full disclosure to her brother but because even saying the name produced a subtle reaction from her. It was becoming troublesome. “His name is Sloan Kendrick. He… He works for the government.”
“Hmm,” Jackson murmured, nodding as if he knew exactly what that meant.
“At first I was suspicious of him. But I think I was interested right away. Totally unexpected, of course. Shocking. And…I’m pretty sure he felt the same way.”
“Seriously? Suspicious of you?”
“No. I mean I think he was interested. Is interested”
“So what’s the problem?”
“Maybe it isn’t a problem. Maybe I’m just being too protective again. You trained me well,” Olivia joked.
But Jackson wasn’t smiling. He waited.
“What if I told you he was white?”
Jackson regarded her for a long silent time. Olivia guessed it was because he was trying to be…diplomatic. Maybe it was just that he was concerned about not saying too much or the wrong thing. The way he’d been with not influencing her about Marcus.
“Do you want me to meet him?”
Olivia closed her office door, checking to make sure it was properly locked before heading for the exit to the school. Lori had already left for the day, and the few after-school activities had also ended. Except for the janitor, who wasn’t due in for another hour, the building was empty. Or so she thought.
There was distinct murmuring coming from the other end of the corridor. It was near an emergency exit at the back of the building. If necessary, students and staff could get out that way but couldn’t come back in. Olivia heard hushed voices…and the sudden, faint babbling of a baby. She stood listening closely for a moment and then changed directions toward the sounds.
Then all was silent again, but she kept walking.
“Hello? Who’s back here?” she asked with authority, letting her voice carry. In the empty hallways, she sounded very loud.
Olivia reached the end of the corridor and glanced left toward the exit. There, she found Colby and Taryn and Gaye. Olivia’s reaction was one of instant suspicion. Judging from the startled expressions of the two students and their quickly averted gaze, she knew she had a right to be.
“What are you doing back here? You know you’re not supposed to use this exit for anything but emergencies. Colby?” Olivia directed her firm question to the boy. She knew he was least likely to lie to her, and he wasn’t very good at it. Taryn, on the other hand, was known to be practiced in the art of subterfuge.
“I was just helping Taryn.” The two students exchanged careful but covert glances.
“Helping Taryn what?” Olivia asked, letting her tone come across as less accusatory. She glanced down at the baby, her features calm and her attention centered on her as she sucked on a pacifier.
“Well…I…she…” Colby mumbled.
“There was somebody I didn’t want to see,” Taryn interrupted. “It was…a girl in my class.”
“What girl?” Olivia asked.
Taryn averted her gaze. She began to push the stroller slowly back and forth, but Gaye was not fussing or in need of comfort.
“What class?” Olivia pursued.
And then she gave up. It was very clear that the two students were hoping to get out of the building without being seen, possibly by someone they were avoiding in the front of the building. But Olivia realized that it was odd for these two students in particular to be conspiring. Colby was an introvert. Taryn was out there and fearless.
“Okay, we’ll talk about this tomorrow in my office. Am I clear?”
The two students garbled an agreement.
“And if I find out either of you is routinely using this exit, things are going to get ugly very fast. Do you hear me?”
Another garbled consent. It was hard to tell if they were sincere or just placating her. But Olivia knew that there was nothing to be gained by trying to force either of them into a confession.
“All right. Go,” Olivia instructed, allowing the two to hurriedly push through the exit’s crash-bar doors, Taryn pushing her baby stroller out onto the street behind the school. The door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing briefly through the corridor.
Olivia frowned at the closed door, trying to guess what the real reason might have been for two of her more promising students to be skulking around after school hours trying to avoid detection.
And she was absolutely certain it had nothing to do with any conflict between Taryn and another student.
Taryn wasn’t afraid of anyone.
Olivia was very uncomfortable, already sorry she’d asked Wilson to accompany her to a wedding. She sat in his midlevel luxury car, and although the air conditioner produced a very quiet and cool environment, she was feeling mildly claustrophobic. Much worse, actually, than when she’d fallen through a floor and landed in the cement basement of the house she owned. Of course, Sloan had appeared like magic—or silent, wishful thinking—to rescue her.
Wilson had left her in his car without much explanation, the engine running, while he’d headed into a small building complex to run an errand. This was the second indication for Olivia that suggesting a day together was turning out to be a very bad idea. They were already late, and she was anxious that they might not even make the actual wedding ceremony at all. That didn’t seem to factor into Wilson’s plans, which, from the start, didn’t seem to mesh with her own. As she fumed, annoyed by his lack of consideration, Olivia realized she should have seen the writing on the wall, so to speak. When she accompanied Wilson to the concert, it had seemed like a safe enough date. Except she didn’t know anything about the group performing, found the music way too loud, and felt out of place among an audience of not only much younger attendees but also people who weren’t her tribe. In other words, what had she been doing there?
And as she readied for the wedding she’d invited Wilson to, she’d been unable to come up with an excuse to disinvite him that didn’t make her feel like a coward…or unkind.
Olivia was appropriately dressed for the occasion, in a simple bright-print dress and heeled sandals. Wilson had chosen to wear casual khaki slacks, an outside shirt without a tie or jacket, and what appeared to be Dockers. She’d caught her breath when he’d picked her up. Had he never been to a formal wedding before? Was he planning on going for a sail after the wedding?
As far as Olivia was concerned, Wilson had one more strike against him for the day, and she was certain he was going to get several more. She let out a sigh of relief when she finally saw him exit the building, small shopping bag in hand and sauntering toward his vehicle as if they had all the time in the world. Her body was stiff with anxiety…and growing anger.
“Got it,” Wilson said, sliding into the driver’s seat and putting the bag behind him on the floor.
“Are you waiting for me to ask, ‘‘Got what?’”
He chuckled. “It’s no big deal. I promised a designer friend I’d stop by to pick up some samples of tiles for my bathroom. Next renovation project. There’s always a project when you move into a new place.”
Olivia stole a covert glance at her watch. “Don’t you think that could have waited until some day during the week after work? We’re going to be—”
“We’re not late,” he cut her off, a tad impatient.
“The wedding starts in…ten minutes.” Olivia tried to stay calm. She hated being late.
Images of an impatient Marcus were dancing in her head.
“Then we got plenty of time. Weddings never start on time anyway. I’ve been to enough of them to know,” he chuckled, unconcerned.
“Wilson, this one is important. I’m like a special guest of the bride.”
“That’s great! Then she’ll forgive you.”
They got back on the road, heading a little north of Santa Monica. It was a pleasant but grayish day, but no chance of rain. It was, after all, Southern California. But the gray hung like a low, flat cloud over Olivia like the possibility of the day being ruined by Wilson’s childish self-centeredness.
She wished she’d asked Sloan to be her plus one.
But at the time of her invitation, at the tentative start of her relationship with Sloan—whatever that was—it hadn’t felt appropriate to ask him. Now, things were much better between them. Very promising. Olivia was sure that things…feelings…between them were only going to grow. Any fault now was her own insecurity, not Sloan’s intentions. Now it was all she could think of. She would have been comfortable in Sloan’s company at the wedding, no matter what.
When Wilson detoured yet again, Olivia lost it. He pulled into a men’s retail and shoe repair salon in a small strip mall that was also home to three Thai restaurants. Olivia’s head turned sharply as she stared at his profile, in disbelief that he would dare make another personal stop. They were still ten miles from the wedding venue.
“What are you doing?” she asked, perhaps a bit sterner than was called for.
“One more stop,” Wilson said without concern, putting the car in park and climbing out of the driver’s seat.
“You can’t do this! I didn’t agree to accompany you on your round of Saturday chores.”
“Will you relax?” he said, as if speaking to a child.
And without waiting for her response, he was headed to the shop. Olivia, her mouth open in disbelief and rage, watched Wilson enter the store and disappear. She fumed for another moment before getting out of the car and searching for her cell phone in her purse. It was a small occasion clutch, not able to hold much more than house keys, a colored lip balm, Kleenex, a card folder with her driver’s license, two twenty-dollar bills, and her phone.
Olivia wandered away from Wilson’s car, basically leaving it unattended as she quickly searched for her Uber icon and began trying to arrange for a car. There was no guarantee, of course, that she’d find one this far out of West Hollywood, but at the moment it was her only option. Olivia was finishing the reservation when she heard a voice behind her, annoyed and put out.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s clear that you’re not interested in being with me today.”
“It’s not like I’m going to know anybody at this wedding. You probably won’t either. Besides the bride, that is. Is she a best friend or something? Old sorority sister? Colleague?”
“It doesn’t matter. The bride invited me to one of the most important days of her life. If you were ever married, you’d know that.”
“I was married… Now I’m not, and now I remember why!”
Olivia stared at him. “You said…your profile…”
“Yeah, yeah. Small fib, minor detail. I was married right out of college. Look, we’re almost there. Get in the car. Next stop, the wedding and reception.”
He turned to get back into his car, adding another package to the ones on the floor behind his seat. Olivia didn’t move. Wilson climbed halfway out again, poking his head above the car hood.
“Are you coming?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“What? You planning on walking? Hitching a ride? You’re being a little ridiculous, don’t you think? What is the fucking big deal? So we’re going to be late!”
“Why don’t you go on, finish your shopping or whatever it is you’re doing, without me. You don’t need me for company. I have someplace to be.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. I have no intention of getting back into your car. I don’t want to ride around LA County for the next few hours, sitting in your car while you keep shopping. I’ll be fine. You obviously have things to do, people to see.”
Wilson stared at her for a long moment, displeasure in every feature of his face, as if he was offended. “If that’s what you want. But I think you’re being foolish. I can take you back home if you want.”
“I don’t. Bye, Wilson.” She turned away, walking idly along the covered pathway in front of the row of small businesses. She heard a car door slam, the sudden change in the engine hum when he shifted into drive, and the screech of wheels as the car accelerated out of the parking lot.
Olivia was relieved that she’d never hear from Wilson again. And she made a mental note to terminate her three online dating accounts before the sun rose on another day.