Chapter Nineteen Olivia
Olivia trudged back up the rocky path, wincing with every step.
She seemed to be the only person making the ascent alone—everyone else trekking from the beach up to the golf carts did so in pairs.
She wasn’t sure where Zack had disappeared to.
He’d done an impressive job pretending to be her boyfriend all night and was entitled to a break, but his unexplained absence stung more than it should.
Here she was, once again, leaving a party alone.
Most of the time, Olivia was totally fine with being single.
Her demanding job and full social calendar left her very little time to feel legitimately lonely, but she was hit by occasional waves of wistfulness.
Sunday afternoons were tough: those hours between boozy brunch with friends and evenings at home with takeout and whatever prestige drama was on HBO.
Sometimes she’d bring work to do in the park, but it was hard to focus with so many seemingly happy couples around, some lying with the their heads in their partners’ laps, other chasing after dogs or pushing baby strollers.
But special occasions were the worst—there was something about leaving a festive event by herself, the jarring disconnect between the lively party chatter and the heavy silence of the Uber, that served to emphasize Olivia’s aloneness.
She felt it more keenly tonight than she had at all the other weddings and galas she’d attended this year.
After her almost-date with Andrew, she’d spent hours fantasizing about spending this weekend with him.
And then when that dream had dissolved, she’d taken comfort in Zack’s attentions, not caring that it’d all been an act.
It’d been enough to make her feel wanted, chosen.
By the time she made it to the top, most of the chauffeured golf carts had left, leaving just a few locals like Olivia who’d driven themselves.
Thank goodness she hadn’t had much to drink and was fit to get behind the wheel.
It was a relief not to have to make any more small talk, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if her foot had kept her from completing the climb.
How long would it have taken someone to notice that she hadn’t made it back to the inn?
She limped over to her cart and was about to start the engine when someone called her name. A moment later, Dylan jogged up and launched himself into the passenger seat. “Can I get a ride?”
Olivia suppressed a groan. “What happened? The inn was supposed to send enough golf carts for everyone staying there.”
“I hung back on purpose. I needed to make sure that Bri girl didn’t try to follow me up to my room.”
The words “that Bri girl” rankled her. Bri wasn’t Olivia’s favorite person by a long shot, but she was objectively pretty, smart enough, and more fun to talk to than a lot of Marigold’s friends.
Certainly more fun than Dylan. “Oh yeah?” Olivia said, muscle memory compelling her to glance over her shoulder before she pulled onto the road, despite the fact that there was no sign of traffic. “Why? I thought you were single.”
“Does that mean I have to sleep with every girl who throws herself at me?”
“No offense, but she definitely didn’t seem to be throwing herself at you. She was just drunk and flirty.”
“Fine, whatever. I’m just getting tired of hookups, you know? I want to fall in love.”
“No, I get it,” Olivia said, softening. “It’s tough out there.”
“Yeah, and I’m so over the apps.”
“Same. The gaslighting makes me feel truly insane. Like, sir, if you liked me enough to make out with me outside my building, why wouldn’t you want a second date?
It doesn’t make any sense! I get ghosting after you’ve slept with someone.
I mean, it’s shitty, but I understand the logic.
But if you’re attracted to someone, why would you disappear before you’ve even had sex? Have you ever done that?”
“Done what?”
“Made out with a woman on a first date and then ghosted her.”
Dylan shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”
“But why? Explain it to me. If you like her enough to kiss her at the end of the first date, why wouldn’t you want to go on a second date?”
He didn’t exactly scratch his head, but he ran his fingers through his long hair. “If she’s hot, I’ll kiss her. Because kissing is fun. But that doesn’t mean I necessarily want to see her again.”
Olivia eased up on the gas as they entered a stretch of road covered by a canopy of trees that blocked most of the moonlight.
There was a small pothole up ahead that sometimes caught her by surprise in the dark.
“But if she’s hot and you had fun—and you say you’re looking to fall in love—why wouldn’t you want to see her again? That’s how this works.”
“Because I don’t want to waste my time when it’s not the extraordinary, life-changing kind of love I’m looking for.”
“How can you know that after one date?”
“Trust me, I know. When I meet the right woman, it’s going to feel electrifying. I’m not gonna go home after to scroll on my phone and jerk off. I’ll stay up all night writing the best short story of my life, then go for a run at sunrise.”
“That’s not love. That’s cocaine.”
Dylan turned to glare at her. “Real love is a drug.
“Dude, no woman is going to make you feel high. Especially not on a first date. You’re looking for some manic pixie dream girl that doesn’t exist.”
“I’m not gonna apologize for having high standards.” He paused then said, “So what’s the deal with Emerson?”
“What about her?” Olivia asked flatly.
“Is that guy she’s with her boyfriend?”
“I’m not sure,” Olivia said, torn between her urge to burst Dylan’s bubble and her desire for him to lure Emerson away from Andrew. Dylan was almost as good-looking as Andrew. He might have a shot, if he never opened his mouth.
“A supermodel lawyer,” Dylan said with a wistful sight. “I guarantee no one is ghosting her after a first date.”
The pothole was up ahead, but instead of slowing down, Olivia reached for the roof handle and stepped on the accelerator. The golf cart launched into the air and landed with a heavy jolt that nearly sent Dylan flying out of his seat. “Fuck,” he yelped.
“Whoops! Sorry about that.”
They spent the rest of the short drive in silence. Olivia pulled off the road next to the long set of wooden steps that led from the beach up to the inn. Dylan jumped out before she had time to kill the engine. “Thanks for the ride,” he said curtly, then jogged up the stairs two at a time.
Olivia slid out of the driver’s seat, testing her injured foot before putting her full weight on it.
It was still throbbing from the walk from the beach, and the prospect of another steep flight of stairs was daunting.
Don’t be a baby, she told herself. Think of what Mom has gone through.
You can deal with a hurt foot. She grabbed on to the railing and started to hoist herself up the first step when she saw a figure hurrying down the stairs.
“Hold on!” a familiar voice called. It was Andrew.
“Let me help,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. She leaned into him as he helped her hop up the stairs one by one, keeping the weight off her bad foot. When they reached the porch, Olivia collapsed into a wicker chair with a heavy sigh. “I need to take a break, but you go ahead.”
“I’m in no rush.” He sat down in the chair next to her.
“Isn’t Emerson waiting for you?” Apparently, her aching foot wasn’t enough for her to meet her pain threshold for the evening.
“She’s still out with her friends.” He sounded slightly uncomfortable. “What about Zack?”
“Oh… he goes to bed early so he can get up to write.” She prayed that Andrew wouldn’t find Zack in the hotel bar with some woman he found genuinely attractive, who he hadn’t just decided to flirt with as a favor.
Andrew turned to face the ocean. “He’s not exactly what I would’ve expected for you.”
“I thought you were a fan?”
“I am! He’s a really interesting writer. Just not someone I would’ve picked out for you.”
“Why not?”
“Just a vibe.”
“Oh, come on. Tell me what you mean!”
“I’m not gonna talk shit about your new boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, exactly. You can tell me what you think. I promise I won’t get mad.”
“Right, because that’s always such an easy promise to keep.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t actually care what you think. I’m just curious.”
Andrew made a show of surveying her. “That’s probably true. You don’t seem like someone who can be easily swayed one way or the other.”
“So you’re trying to sway me?” Her lighthearted tone belied the excitement fizzing in her chest. Zack had been right. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. How often did that happen in real life?
“No, no swaying,” Andrew said with a smile.
“I was just surprised. Zack seems like a nice guy. And he’s clearly really smart.
But there’s also something sort of na?ve about him.
From what I can tell, he has a black-and-white, binary way of looking at the world.
And you’re more realistic; you get that things are messy and complicated, that it’s not always about right vs. wrong.”
“That doesn’t really sound like a compliment.”
“It is, I swear! You’re someone who understands nuance. I would’ve thought that his anticapitalism shtick would’ve struck you as a little… unsophisticated.”
“Ah, I see.” Olivia nodded. “And here I was thinking that you were judging him for his breach of fashion etiquette.”
“That jacket was a bold choice.”
“Now you’re just being mean.”
“Oh, I know you’ll spruce him up once you make things official. I’m sure the next time I see him, he’ll be in Thom Browne.”
“What about Tom Ford?” Olivia asked, eying Andrew’s suit knowingly.
“Let’s not get carried away. That’d be too much of a shock to the system.”
“Like how you can’t give a starving person too much food at once.”
Andrew raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like something your not-quite-boyfriend would accuse us of—denying starving people food for their own good.”
“So where does Emerson fall on this continuum? Is she closer to Zack or has she veered over to the dark side with you?”
“Hard to say. We don’t really have those kinds of conversations.”
“Really? So, what? She gets back from the Hague and wants to talk about Love Island?”
“Maybe not Love Island, but definitely not social stratification and the wealth gap.”
“How funny. That’s Zack’s kink,” she said, taking a page out of Liesl’s book. Why not invite Andrew to think about Olivia having sex?
“Arguing about economic policy in bed?”
“Sure, what’s wrong with that? Though now I draw the line when it comes to dressing as Marx. That was just too weird.”
“Oh yeah? Who wore the costume, you or him?”
“We liked to switch it up.”
Andrew laughed and patted her on the arm. “I always forget how funny you are when you’re relaxed.” She expected him to remove his hand, but he left it there, resting lightly just above her elbow.
“Trust me, I’m the furthest thing from relaxed at the moment.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Oh… you know, family weddings are always stressful, aren’t they?” Especially when the bride is missing.
“Anything I can help with?” He squeezed her arm, and her breath caught in her chest.
“You’ve already done more than enough. I’d still be trying to get up those stairs if you hadn’t come to my rescue.”
“I’m a little pissed that Zack went back to the inn without you.”
“I told him it was fine.”
“I wouldn’t have listened,” Andrew said quietly, leaning toward her.
Oliva raised her chin ever so slightly, certain she was about to feel his lips brush against hers. Her mouth tingled with anticipation, and she was just about to close her eyes when Andrew stood up. “I’d better get to bed. It’s later than I realized. Do you need help getting up to your room?”
“No thanks. I’m on the first floor,” she lied.
There was no way she’d let Andrew help her up any more stairs.
She couldn’t press her body against him knowing that he was heading to wait for Emerson.
Dylan was right—it was perfectly possible for men to flirt shamelessly with women who fell far short of their standards.
“Have a good night.” Andrew patted her shoulder in a decidedly platonic fashion and then headed inside.
Olivia pulled her knees up to her chest and squeezed, trying to staunch the spread of disappointment and embarrassment.
What had she been thinking? Even if she hadn’t imagined the vibe between them, Andrew wasn’t the kind of guy who’d make a move on a woman with a boyfriend, especially when his own date was en route to meet him. In their shared room.
Her phone rang, and she sighed as she rummaged through her purse.
It was Lulu. “Mom?” Olivia answered, suddenly trembling for an entirely different reason.
She’d never forget the sound of her mother wheezing that time she’d called Olivia in the middle of the night, choking and terrified, unable to breathe when Bill was out of town. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, don’t worry.” Lulu sounded tired but otherwise fine.
“I’m so sorry to call this late, but there’s been some mix-up with the rooms. Apparently, the Varicks somehow convinced the front desk into giving them Aunt Harriet’s suite.
She just tried to check in and was told they’re completely booked. ”
“Oh god,” Olivia said. Fucking Varicks. She’d instructed the inn to give them one of the standard rooms. “I’m sorry, I told them… Don’t worry about it, okay? I’ll figure it out.”
“It’s so late. I was wondering—do you mind crashing with Zack and letting Aunt Harriet sleep in your room? I know you booked separate rooms to keep the rest of us off the scent, but now that the secret’s out…”
Oh, fuck my life, Olivia thought, suppressing a groan. How the hell was she supposed to wake up her fake boyfriend and ask if she could sleep in his room? She didn’t even have his number. “No problem. That’s a good solution,” Olivia said.
“Wonderful. I’ll tell Aunt Harriet. Good night, hon.”
“ ’Night, Mom. I love you.” She’d started saying it every time she hung up, just in case.
“I love you too.”