25
W hen Olivia entered the diner’s front room, the mayor was seated at the head of a table holding seven places. Bailey listened intently as Porter and Charlie and Berto talked, heads together, smiling. Like they were working together on something that made them all happy. Despite everything.
Dillon was seated at the table’s other end, equally intent, and just as happy. Paying the trio no mind whatsoever. Not even glancing in Olivia’s direction. His attention was totally focused on a girl of perhaps ten or eleven years of age, yet who held herself as someone much older. She could only be Bailey’s daughter.
The woman-child had a tablet on the table between them, scrolling through a written document. Dillon had one hand on the back of the girl’s chair, totally locked in on whatever he read. He nodded slowly while Bailey’s daughter watched him, a smile coming and going.
Bailey’s daughter was so totally smitten by Dillon.
And apparently Dillon felt the same about her.
There was no other way to describe what Olivia saw. This was a reality so potent it reshaped both their worlds.
She watched Dillon lean forward and spoke softly, patting the girl’s shoulder in time to his words. Whatever he said caused Bailey’s daughter to tear up. She smiled in response, looking at him with what Olivia could only describe as a womanly gaze.
That was the point at which Bailey pulled out the empty chair next to hers and said, “Aren’t you joining us?” She waited until Olivia was seated, then said, “We’re talking about first steps in regards to your cottage.”
“We need to get everything in place before the armada invasion,” the fire chief agreed. “Which means starting at first light.”
As they resumed their discussion, Olivia knew she should be paying attention. But she remained captivated by Dillon and Bailey’s daughter. Watching the two of them, the former love of her life and this young woman, there was no question in her mind. Dillon had changed for the better.
But what about her?
Olivia nodded to the gathering, as if they had posed the question. That was the true issue.
The answer was, she had no idea.
Her heart remained wounded by everything crammed and pounded into the past six months. One massive blow after another, severing her ties to LA, sending her back to Miramar. With nothing. Or so she had thought.
Yet here she sat, surrounded by people who wanted only good for her. Who stood ready to help in any and every way possible.
Her mind flashed back to a long-forgotten moment. One she had not thought of in years, yet was suddenly clearer than the people surrounding her.
Olivia had broken up with Dillon. Again. Bailey and her fiancé had been on the outs for weeks. That particular day, Bailey had approached her and asked if Dillon was a free agent. That was how she had expressed it. Like a pro ballplayer cast aside by his team. If so, Bailey wanted Dillon to take her to something. A dance, maybe. Party. Whatever. Olivia had seen the spark in Bailey’s gaze, and known instantly this was not some chance encounter, a possible stand-in for her absent beau. This was real. And the knowledge had driven Olivia back into Dillon’s arms.
Bailey leaned in close, and whispered, “Why are you smiling?”
Olivia turned to the mayor, her friend since childhood. And spoke as if it was just the two of them seated there, with all the time in the world. “I was thinking about that day you asked if Dillon and I were through.”
Bailey tilted her head, a habit Olivia had seen hundreds of times. Checking out her world from a new angle. “You still remember that?”
“It just popped into my head. You wanted him to take you somewhere.”
“Santa Cruz. My cousin’s wedding.”
“I should have let it happen.”
The rest of the table might have sailed off into the far distance. Bailey softly replied, “Woulda shoulda.”
Olivia nodded. The steps she could have taken, versus the ones she chose, stretched out before her. Like the choice was here in this very moment. “I knew even then it wasn’t working with Dillon. But I wasn’t ready to let him go. Which I probably should have.” She paused, then asked, “Why am I only seeing this now?”
Bailey remained silent.
“What I wanted was for Dillon to be a different person. Does that make any sense?”
“Huh.” Barely a whisper. Glancing at her daughter. Then resuming her tight focus on Olivia. “Does it ever.”
Olivia leaned in closer, just inches removed from the woman’s face. “I wanted to change him into the man who would leave with me. He wanted out as much as I did. But his direction . . .”
“Different compass heading.”
Olivia shook her head. “His way didn’t include me. Looking back, I think I already knew that.”
Bailey did not blink. Or breathe.
Olivia went on, “But you wanted him. I saw it. And I was so jealous, I went straight to Dillon and apologized, said our breakup was all my fault. For the first time ever. Maybe the last.”
Bailey said, “Did it ever occur to you that you saved me a ton of sorrow? Getting together with Dillon would have been the worst move ever. He wanted nothing more than to put Miramar in his rearview mirror. I was never going anywhere. Never, never, never. This is home. Then, now, tomorrow.”
Olivia did not reply.
Bailey must have found what she sought in Olivia’s silence. She took a firm hold of Olivia’s hand and whispered, “Girl, thank you.”
Charlie Hurst called from the table’s opposite end, “What are you two scheming over down there?”
“Making sure my pal knows she has a home,” Bailey replied. “Come what may.”