Chapter Eleven Olivia #2
“Are you kidding me? Her name’s Emily. She changed it to Emerson when she started modeling.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yup.” Olivia had done a deep dive on Google last night, a binge that left her feeling worse than the four glasses of champagne she’d accidentally consumed.
Despite her obnoxious name, Emerson was undeniably impressive: she’d recently argued at the Hague in support of new protections for women in war zones, and published an article in the Atlantic about the link between sex trafficking and the fashion world.
“Did she… did she use the word girlfriend? I thought she was just his date.” The question slipped out before she had a chance to stop herself, as if the rain had washed away her final shred of dignity.
Zack smirked. “Ohhhh… so that’s why you seemed so angry last night,” he continued. “And why you got so trashed.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” Olivia said dryly.
The amusement on Zack’s face faded, and he slid down off the couch to join her on the floor. “Sorry,” he said. “I know things are tough right now.”
“Things aren’t tough. I’m fine.”
“I just meant… the stuff with your mom. It can’t be easy.”
Olivia braced for the inevitable follow-up: the meaningless it’s going to be okay platitudes, or the clumsy attempts at empathy—I know what you’re going through.
When my great-aunt had cancer… or, worst of all, When my dog got sick last year…
But to her relief, Zack didn’t continue talking.
He just placed another log on the fire, then sat back and waited for her speak.
“No, it’s not,” Olivia said finally.
“And then on top of that, the guy you liked showed up with another woman?”
“Yeah… we’d been flirting for a few weeks, and I thought we’d finally get together this weekend.” She buried her head in her hands. “God, I sound like a teenager.”
“You sound like a human. It’s kind of refreshing, actually.”
Her head snapped up. “It’s refreshing to see me rejected for a supermodel who’ll probably win a Nobel Peace Prize someday? Thanks so much.”
“No, I mean it’s refreshing to see you express real human emotion. You always seem so… buttoned up.”
She shot him a withering look. “We’ve been in the same room, like, five times.”
“I’m a keen observer of human behavior.”
“Well, then you’ve surely noticed that there’s plenty of emotion in my family already. Someone has to handle their shit.”
“Isn’t that what family’s for, though? You take turns supporting one another.”
“Did you read that on a mug in Target?”
“Would that fit on a mug? Probably better suited for one of those wooden boards.” He took the poker and adjusted the logs, releasing a small shower of sparks. “For what it’s worth, you’re right—I think she’s just his date.”
“How do you know?”
Zack shrugged. “Just a vibe I got.”
“Because you’re such a keen observer of human behavior,” she said, feeling suddenly lighter.
“You know, just because he brought a date, it doesn’t mean he’s not into you. That’s not really how it works with most men. They just get distracted by whatever shiny thing’s right in front of them at the moment.”
“Please don’t refer to women as things.”
“Come on, you know what I mean. I’m sure he was looking forward to trying to bang you at the wedding, and then just got momentarily distracted. You just need to catch his attention again.”
Olivia narrowed her eyes. “Every time I’m close to admitting that you might actually have a brain, you say something like ‘bang you at the wedding.’ ”
“You know what you need?” Zack continued, ignoring her. “You’ve got to make him jealous. Is there anyone else you want to hook up with?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t we pretend to be a couple?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Once he realizes he missed his chance, he won’t be able to stop thinking about you.”
“That’s the best you can come up with?”
“The male mind is simple and predictable. Trust me—seeing you with another man will make him regret putting you on the back burner.”
“This is ridiculous. There’s no way we could pull that off.
” But even as she dismissed the idea, a series of images took shape in her head: Andrew’s face falling as he spotted Olivia and Zack canoodling.
Lulu smiling and turning to whisper happily to Bill.
The surprise of the guests, who’d probably spent most of last night thinking, See, this is why she’s still single.
“Why would you do that for me? You don’t want to ruin your chances of actually hooking up with someone this weekend.
Not after you’ve carried The House of Mirth all this way. ”
“Okay, first of all, I’m reading The House of Mirth because it’s a powerful example of how capitalistic and misogynistic forces destroy female agency.
And second, it’s the least I can do after causing such a massive clusterfuck with the boat key.
” Was he actually blushing? “I’m really sorry about that. ”
Olivia let his words sink in. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard a man sincerely apologize.
Her male colleagues never admitted fault, something they seemed to equate with showing weakness.
That made sense when you were facing down opposing council, but would it kill them to say I’m sorry when they gave bad info to a paralegal that resulted in days of lost work?
None of her ex-boyfriends ever apologized for anything.
Even Bill, the kindest man she knew, hated acknowledging a mistake.
“Thank you. But it’s okay. You definitely don’t need to pretend we’re in a relationship. It’d never work, anyway.”
“Are you implying no one would believe you’d actually date me?
” he asked with a smile. “Because I’ll have you know, I tend to punch well above my weight.
Forget about Emerson. I once dated a neurosurgeon-slash–bikini model named…
Coleridge. She’s also the president of Scotland.
And she’s going to be the next Bond girl. ”
Olivia laughed. “Scotland has a first minister, not a president.”
“So what do you say? Should we give it a shot?”
A loud hum filled the room, sending Olivia scrambling to her feet.
“What’s that noise?” Zack asked.
“Someone turned on the generator. I think that means—”
The front door opened and the lights came on, illuminating the shocked faces of Mr. and Mrs. Varick.
They looked tired and bedraggled from their long journey to the island and were apparently arriving for the first time this summer.
Mrs. Varick held a massive package of toilet paper, while Mr. Varick carried a case of wine.
“Who the hell are you?” Mr. Varick bellowed.
His wife dropped the toilet paper and clutched her husband’s arm. “Grab your gun, Gary.”
“I’m so sorry!” Olivia held up her hands, unsure if it was a gesture of apology, or a plea not to shoot.
“Mr. and Mrs. Varick, it’s me, Olivia Harding.
Bill and Lulu’s daughter. I’m really sorry, it was awful of us to do this, but we had boat issues and couldn’t make it back to Sandpiper.
And then the storm came in and we didn’t have any cell service, so we came looking for a landline, but the lines are down.
It was an emergency, or else we never would’ve trespassed like this, I swear. ”
Mrs. Varick seemed to relax slightly. “Olivia… right.” But Mr. Varick looked unconvinced. He was probably one of those gun owners who secretly fantasized about finding an intruder. He turned to Zack with narrow eyes, as if searching for someone it’d be acceptable to shoot.
“This is my friend Zack,” Olivia continued. “We borrowed some towels and lit a fire to dry off. That’s all we touched, I swear. I’ll replace the towels and pay for any cleaning costs.”
“Don’t worry about it, hon,” Mrs. Varick said, finally stepping over the threshold. “I’m glad you were able to get inside. That storm was awful.” She paused. “How did you get inside?”
“The door was unlocked,” Zack lied smoothly. “You might want to get it checked out.”
“Goodness! We could’ve found something much worse than a few wet neighbors. Now, what do you want to do about your boat? The generator’s running, so you can use the Wi-Fi to text someone.”
Olivia checked her watch. Everyone would be gathering at the yacht club for the rehearsal on the far side of the island. It would take ages for anyone to get to the harbor, let alone motor over to this island. “I have to think. They’re all at the club for the wedding rehearsal.”
“Of course, that’s right. This is the big wedding weekend.
I’d completely forgotten!” Mrs. Varick said in a tone that suggested she hadn’t forgotten at all.
“It sounds like the quite the to-do. Of course, Gary and I completely understand why were weren’t invited.
We’re such distant relations, after all.
I explained that to all our friends. You know, the ones who assumed we’d be there and wanted to hear all the details.
It’s the wedding of the season, after all!
” She glanced at her husband. “Normally, we’d be happy to run you over to Sandpiper, but we had such a long drive, and it’s rather late. ”
“Right,” Olivia said slowly, feeling her brain click over into corporate negotiator mode.
“Yes, I know Marigold was devastated when she had to cut some family members from the list. She had no idea the capacity at the club was so small, and she feels awful about it. She particularly wanted you two to be there.” Next to her, she heard Zack snort, but she ignored him and continued.
“We’ve had some cancellations because of the weather.
Would you…” She paused. “Would you consider coming? You could take us back to Sandpiper and then stay over at the inn. Then you’ll be there for all the activities tomorrow. ”
“Oh no, we wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Not at all! Marigold would be so happy and relieved. She feels awful.” Olivia wasn’t sure her sister remembered that the Varicks existed, but she’d deal with that later. Thankfully, there’d been a few last-minute cancellations, which freed up space at the inn.
“Well…” Mrs. Varick exchanged another look with her husband, who looked slightly less grumpy. Perhaps the status boost he’d get from attending the wedding outweighed the disappointment of not getting to stand his ground. “That is a lovely offer.”
“Great!” Olivia said brightly. “So should we get going?”