36. Leo
36
LEO
“H ey, girlfriend. Did you finish chopping the garlic? I need to add some to the tomato sauce.” I peek over Olive’s shoulder to check her progress, then brush her hair aside and kiss her neck instead. I can’t get enough.
“Hey! Stop that before I cut off a finger,” she says over her shoulder. “Would you still want me with only nine garlicky fingers?” I can hear the way her mouth lifts in the corner.
“Like I’ve told you a thousand times, I’ll take you anyway I can, stinky and all.” I steal a kiss, then resume my work at the stove.
I woke up this morning with Olive lying on me like a blanket, and I enjoyed every second. She’s not a figment of my imagination or some woman I met last night. I’ve had my share of women over the years. Every encounter was to get off and leave right after. Sex and nothing more.
How different sex is when it’s mixed with attraction, affection, and love for the other person! The connection Olive and I have is life-altering. What if she hadn’t shown up under my tree… our tree…on her birthday? Would fate have found another way to push us together? The thought of going back to my mediocre life makes me break out in a sweat.
“Let’s finish this up and let it simmer for a while,” I suggest. She slides the cutting board over to me and I toss half the garlic into the pot. The rest is for the mushrooms. I turn the heat down.
We’re making stuffed mushrooms for the appetizer and chicken parmesan for dinner. And for dessert, chocolate cake. Olive says it’s Evelyn’s favorite meal. I convinced her to let me make the sauce, and she’s doing the rest.
“I’m going to scrub my hands in the bathroom to get the garlic smell off my fingers.” She pecks me on the lips and jumps out of the way before I can smack her butt. I wipe down the counters and put dishes in the dishwasher. How domestic.
We went grocery shopping after brunch, and I noticed some differences between us. She’s more frugal than I am and loves coupons. She hates peas, and I could eat them every day. I’m a Cap’n Crunch fan, and she’d rather have granola. I could devour a jar of Nutella, but the thought of it makes her sick. I told her she needs to try European Nutella. It tastes so much better. And yes, there is a difference. To me anyway.
I enjoy seeing her in her own element, like she’s seen me at the hotel. I don’t really have an established “element,” but the hotel is pretty close. It’s how I spend my time when I’m not traveling, anyway.
Olive comes back, wiggling her fingers. “I can still smell it, but it’s almost gone.”
I reach out and lead her to the couch. “Come sit with me. Let’s look at our calendars.” I open mine on my phone and click on the date of Corey’s memorial. “What are you doing the first weekend of March?”
She scrolls her calendar. “As of now, nothing, because I haven’t looked that far ahead. Why?”
“Corey’s memorial is that weekend. March second. I’d like you to come.”
“Really? It’s a family affair, and I haven’t met Corey’s family. And?—”
I press my finger to her lips. “Olive, you’re part of the family now. Please come. They already know that I was going to ask you.”
She considers with a smile. “Then, yes. I’d love to.”
We square away the details for that weekend. I’ll finish my assignment the weekend before the memorial. Olive will come out the Monday after and spend a week with me. We also discussed Super Bowl weekend. Since she doesn’t want to stay at Andy’s place when I’m there for obvious reasons, I told her I’d pick the hotel and surprise her. And she insists on picking me up when I arrive. No argument there. After a month apart, I want to see her face when I walk out of the airport.
* * *
They should be here any minute. I’ve been calm most of the day, but something has triggered my nerves. Now I can’t stop fidgeting. Currently, my fingers are picking at my jeans.
Olive grabs my hand. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to wear a hole in your pants before they even get here. There’s no need to be nervous. They’re going to love you.”
“What if?—”
She cuts me off, wagging her finger. “Nope. It doesn’t matter if they like you, anyway. What matters is that I do. More every second that passes. They can have an opinion, but it doesn’t mean I’ll agree with them. Hopefully any negative ones will stay in their heads and not come out of their mouths.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a long, all-consuming kiss, convincing me that everything will be fine. That’s shot to shit when the doorbell rings. Meeting new people has never been a problem for me. Until now.
“Let the games begin,” she says, grinning as she goes to the door. I follow and open it for her. “Hi! Come in.” Olive hugs her mom first and then her uncle.
“Mom, Uncle Bruce, this is Leo,” she says with enthusiasm. Her mom gives me a once-over, focusing on my hair mostly. Not a long-hair fan? Her hands are clasped in front of her, giving me a closed-off vibe.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hansen,” I greet her as friendly as possible.
“It’s nice to meet you, Leo. Thank you for entertaining my Olive while she was gone. And please call me Evelyn.” My Olive? Entertaining?
There’s no chance to respond because Olive’s big, jovial uncle jams himself between Evelyn and me. “Nice to meet you, Leo. Glad I could make it tonight. Call me Bruce.” He shakes my hand and firmly squeezes my shoulder. “It smells delicious in here. I heard we’re having chicken parm. Can’t wait.”
I whisper to Olive, “By any chance does Andy take after your uncle?”
The corner of her mouth tilts up. “That obvious, huh? You should’ve met my dad. He was definitely the life of the party.”
I observe their interactions and watch Evelyn the most. Olive looks a lot like her. Similar height, same dark features, thick hair. Olive’s eye color is unique. I remember her saying she has her dad’s eyes. They are beautiful women.
Evelyn looks friendly enough, but is it fake? I know things have gotten slightly better since Olive returned, but I can’t imagine her being all that welcoming to me. Call me insecure, I guess.
“I brought some champagne, and it’s cold. I thought we could celebrate Olive’s thirtieth birthday tonight, since we missed out.” Evelyn takes the bottle out of a bag and hands it to Olive. Was that a jab at Olive? She doesn’t seem to notice.
“Let’s pop that baby open,” Bruce says, rubbing his hands together. He’ll definitely be the buffer tonight.
Olive takes the bottle to the kitchen, and I follow. She opens a cabinet and reaches up as far as she can, lifting her shirt, revealing her creamy, soft skin. I skim the soft patch with my hand. “I’ll get them for you.” I grab four flutes and place them on the counter near the bottle.
“Thanks,” she says, brushing her lips against mine.
“Can I help with anything?” Evelyn interrupts us, her voice louder than necessary. We both jump.
“Sure, Mom,” Olive answers, not bothered by it. She hands her mother two of the flutes. “Put these on the kitchen table. We’ll bring the rest.” She gives me the other two and the bottle. “I’ll be there in a sec. I need to check the mushrooms.”
“Come chat with us, Leo,” Evelyn urges, then turns away.
I glance at Olive, and she shoos me away with her hands.
“They don’t bite.”
I’m not sure about that. I follow Evelyn and put the flutes and the bottle on the table. I look at the brand of champagne. At least she has great taste. Brownie point for her. I open the bottle and pour equal amounts. Olive arrives shortly after and takes a glass of the bubbly. Bruce jumps in and makes a hilarious toast, which convinces me he’s harmless.
Evelyn stretches her arms out to hug Olive, but Olive hugs and kisses me first. Evelyn’s cheerful expression fades, and when she glances at me, her eyes turn cold. It suddenly clicks. I’m a threat to her. What kind, I don’t know. When Olive turns to hug her, the smile that returns to Evelyn’s face looks forced. Of course, Bruce gets a hug too, and he lifts her off the ground.
When the mushrooms are ready, we sit in the living room, chatting and munching. Thankfully, the focus isn’t on me yet. I sip my drink and observe some more. I notice how Evelyn watches my hand on Olive’s thigh. Her expressions are hard to read. It’s like looking into a kaleidoscope, something new revealed with every movement.
Because Bruce didn’t know everything, Olive and I recap how we met, how my family owns the hotel, how my mom’s a widower too, and how much Olive loves the island and the hotel. Evelyn has heard some of it already, so she stays quiet, but I can’t forget she’s told Olive more than once that she doesn’t like the island. And I hate that I’m on the defensive. Everyone has the right to their own opinion.
“Mom, I forgot to show you these pictures,” Olive blurts out, pulling me from my thoughts. She hands Evelyn the phone, and points at Sam. Bruce leans over to see too.
He snaps his fingers. “That’s… What’s his name? Oh, Samuel Moore…the soccer player,” he acknowledges, addressing Olive. “Weren’t you and Andy obsessed with him?”
“Yep,” Olive says. “And there he was at the New Year’s Eve party I almost didn’t go to.” She threads her arm through mine. “Leo, however, was more than convincing, and I gave in. What a night that was. No regrets there.”
Evelyn leans over, props her arms on her knees, and clasps her hands. “Leo, it sounds like you pressured Olive into doing things she didn’t want to do.”
I pull my head back. “Come again?” Oops. A little attitude snuck out there.
Bruce coughs on a piece of mushroom, and Olive snaps, “Mom! He didn’t force me to do anything. Give me a break. It was a party.”
Evelyn’s calm persona changes, and she throws up her hands. “Jeez. Sorry. I didn’t know it’s a sensitive subject.”
The real Evelyn has arrived.
“Leo, tell us about your job. I heard you travel a lot,” Bruce says, obviously trying to cut the tension. Olive squeezes my knee.
I explain what my job entails and where I’ll be going. They begin questioning me about where I’ve been and what nightmares I’ve seen.
“Ugh. I’ve found things like half-eaten food in the minibar, used condoms under the bed, and something on the floor that looked like fresh blood. The hotel denied it, of course. Let me put it this way—just because a hotel has a five-star rating, doesn’t necessarily mean it’s the best quality.”
“That’s disgusting,” Olive says, and the others nod in agreement.
“And have you reviewed your family’s hotel?” Evelyn asks, shoveling a mushroom into her mouth. “Find anything that would keep us away? Is the hotel a two-star or three?”
Don’t take the bait.
“It’s a four-star hotel, actually. Because I know what to look for, probably better than most, I ensure the hotel is in order whenever I’m there. No hotel is perfect, but we’re proud of the quality we provide for our guests.”
“I couldn’t complain about one thing during my visit. Other than the reservation system, but I lucked out in that situation.” Olive grins, nudging me in the side.
“ Pfft. Don’t rub it in.” I tap my elbow against hers. “Anyway, Evelyn, you should come stay for a couple of days and check it out for yourself.”
“I don’t know about Evelyn, but I sure will,” Bruce interjects. “Do you have space for business meetings? I was thinking about doing an off-site team building event this year.”
Evelyn gives her brother in-law the evil eye. “You can’t be serious, Bruce.”
“There’s plenty of space, Uncle Bruce. Leo’s sister is the event manager,” Olive says through gritted teeth. At least I’m not the only one noticing Evelyn’s negativity and rudeness.
“As Olive said, we do have the space. This year we want to focus on the hotel being more than a party venue. We hope to pull in more business for corporate meetings, training… Things like that. Let’s try to chat later.”
The timer for the chicken parm goes off, and I jump at the chance to help in the kitchen. I need a breather. Evelyn and Bruce make it over to the kitchen table and sit. Olive and I bring the feast over, interrupting the quiet bickering between Evelyn and Bruce. My mental eye-rolling is going to give me a migraine.
We open a bottle of wine and give Bruce a beer. I wouldn’t mind one of Tonya’s strong martinis right now. A pleasant peace fills the room while we enjoy the meal. Evelyn compliments Olive on her cooking.
“Leo helped. He made the sauce from scratch. It’s delicious. I’ll probably use his recipe from now on.” She holds my hand up and kisses the back of it.
“It’s delicious, Leo,” Evelyn says dryly, her eyes focusing on Olive’s hand entwined with mine.
“Thanks. My mom’s recipe. She’s a great cook,” I respond.
“Yeah, she makes a mean pot roast too.” Olive grins, then adds hastily, “Not as good as yours, though, Mom.”
“And what are your plans tomorrow?” Evelyn asks us, abruptly changing the subject again.
“I’m driving him to the airport. He has an early flight,” Olive says, then turns to me. “We need to make the most of our time tonight.”
“I don’t care what we do or how late we stay up. I can sleep on the flight.”
“Do you think you’ll stay in touch after this?” Evelyn asks. Bruce shakes his head, keeping his eyes down.
Evelyn’s poking the bear. But you know what? I’ve got this.