Chapter 47 Olivia
OLIVIA
I’m still standing outside Elena’s hospital room after talking over the doctors doing evening rounds when I hear the clatter of heels on the floor. That particular rhythm—sharp, precise, painfully impatient—can only belong to one person.
“Olivia!”
I turn and, sure enough, it’s her. My mother strides down the corridor like she owns the place. Her white coat is crisp, her hair pulled back in a severe bun, her lipstick the exact shade of arterial blood.
“Mom.”
“What are you doing lurking in the hallway? Is Elena awake?”
“She’s sleeping. The nurses just gave her pain meds.”
“Ah.” Margaret stops beside me and peers through the window into Elena’s room. “Poor dear. Such a terrible thing to happen.”
I bite my tongue. If she only knew how much of this was my fault.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, turning back to me. “You look exhausted.”
“I’m fine.”
“Have you been eating enough? Sleeping enough?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Because pregnancy is very taxing on the body. You need to take care of yourself.”
“I know. It’s actually my job to know, funny enough.”
She scowls at me for a moment, then waves a dismissive hand. “Well, you’re young. You’ll bounce back. Anyways, I had something I wanted to tell you.”
I cringe. Vague statements like that only ever come before bad news, as far as my mother is concerned. I have no idea what bombshell she’s about to drop on me, but I know it won’t be good.
Life-ruining news coming in three, two, one…
“I wanted to apologize,” she continues. “About the other night. Dinner at the house.”
My jaw nearly drops before I collect myself. She may have a PhD, an MD, and an MBA, but I honestly didn’t know my mother knew the meaning of the word “apologize.”
“What about it?” I ask cautiously, still fearing a trap.
“I may have pushed a bit too hard. Stefan seemed upset when he left.”
Upset is putting it mildly. He’d practically dragged me out of there.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
“Is it? Because I’d hate to think I caused any friction between you two.”
“You didn’t.”
“Good. Stefan is a wonderful man. Brilliant. Successful. Exactly the kind of partner you need.”
I want to tell her that Stefan is way more than all that. That he’s complicated and damaged and terrifying and tender all at once. He’s not some trophy to parade around at cocktail parties.
But I don’t. Margaret wouldn’t understand.
“I’m glad you think so,” I say instead.
She smiles. Then her gaze drops to my left hand. I watch her eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.
“Is that—” She grabs my hand and yanks it closer. “Oh my God. Is that an engagement ring?”
I forgot she hadn’t seen it yet. I’ve been so caught up in everything else that I haven’t even thought about telling her.
“Yes,” I admit. “Stefan proposed. In Italy.”
Margaret lets out a girlish sound I’ve never heard from her before. “Olivia! This is wonderful! Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We just got back. And then Elena was shot. It hasn’t exactly been the right time.”
“Nonsense! There’s always time for good news.” She’s still gripping my hand, examining the ring from every angle. “This is exquisite. Absolutely exquisite. He has excellent taste. When’s the wedding? We’ll need to start planning immediately. These things take time.”
“Mom—”
“I’m thinking the Grand Ballroom at the Four Seasons. Or maybe the Fairmont. We’ll need at least a thousand guests. Your father and I know everyone in this city. And Stefan’s connections—”
“Mom.”
“—we’ll need a live band, of course. And flowers. Lots of flowers. White roses, maybe. Or orchids. Do you like orchids?”
“Mom!” She stops and looks at me. “I don’t want a big wedding,” I say firmly.
Her face falls. “What?”
“I want something small. Intimate. Just close friends and family.”
“But Olivia—”
“No. This is my wedding. Mine and Stefan’s. Not yours.”
“I understand that, darling. But you have to think about appearances. Stefan is one of the most powerful men in Boston. People will expect—”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass what people expect.”
She flinches at my language, but it doesn’t stop her. “Well, you should. This is an opportunity to make a statement. We can show the world that you’re not just some struggling nobody. You’re marrying into power. Into influence.”
I feel my jaw clench. “I’m marrying Stefan because I love him, Mother. Not because of his power or his ‘influence.’”
“Yes, yes, obviously, of course you are. But that doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from it.”
“I don’t want to benefit from it.”
She sighs. “You’re being naive.”
“Mom, please don’t—”
“Olivia.” She takes my hands in hers to shut me up.
“I know you like to think of yourself as above all this. The politics and the posturing, yes, yes. But the truth is, we live in a world where appearances matter. Connections matter. And this wedding is your chance to solidify your place in that world.”
“I don’t want a place in that world.”
“Then you’re a fool.”
I pull my hands away. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, darling. But it’s true. You’ve spent your entire life struggling to prove yourself. And now, you have the opportunity to walk into a room and have people take you seriously without question. Why would you throw that away?”
“Because it’s not real! None of it is real!” I shake my head before she can even get going again. “You know what? I’m not having this conversation.”
“Fine. Then let me make you a deal.”
I cross my arms. “What kind of deal?”
“Meet with a wedding planner. Just one. Erica Renee. She’s the best in the city. If, after meeting with her, you still want a small wedding, I’ll back off. I won’t say another word.”
I don’t believe her for a second. Margaret never backs off.
But then an idea starts to form.
Saturday. The day I’m supposed to meet Natalia. If I schedule the wedding planner meeting for the same day, it gives me an alibi. A reason to be out. A cover story.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll meet with her.”
Margaret lights up. “Really?”
“Yes. But I’m taking the meeting alone. No you. No opinions. No influence.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I shake my head again. “Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”
She purses her lips. Then nods. “Fine. I’ll set it up.”
“Saturday,” I add. “At the Eliot Hotel. One-thirty.”
She pulls out her phone and starts typing. “I’ll text you the details once it’s confirmed.”
“Thanks.”
She pockets her phone and looks at me. “You know, sweetheart, I’m only trying to help. I want what’s best for you.”
“I know, Mom.”
She reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. It’s such a maternal gesture that for a moment, I almost forget how fucked-up our relationship is.
“You’re going to be a beautiful bride,” she says softly. She kisses my cheek. “I have to get back to surgery. But call me if you need anything.”
She walks away. I watch until she disappears around the corner. Then I pull out my phone and text Stefan.
Meeting with a wedding planner Saturday at the Eliot Hotel. 1:30. Is that okay?
His response comes almost immediately. Of course. Do you want me to come with you?
No. I want to handle this myself.
I pocket my phone and lean against the wall. My heart is pounding. This is insane. I’m lying to Stefan. But what choice do I have?
If I tell Stefan, he’ll stop me. Or worse, he’ll come with me. And then any chance of peace will be destroyed.
No. This is something I have to do alone.
I just hope I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.