A Beautiful Mess (20 page)

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Authors: T. K. Leigh

Tags: #Romance, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Mystery, #Adult

BOOK: A Beautiful Mess
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“Oh, Libs. You were fantastic! And you are soooo falling in love with Alexander, I can tell.”

Olivia began to blush. She knew Kiera was right. She was torn about her feelings for him. On one hand, she had only known him a few short days so how could she possibly be falling for him so soon? But on the other hand, there was something so familiar about him. As if she knew him in a past life.

Once Alexander saw that Olivia would not be performing again, he discretely left the bar and climbed into his waiting SUV.

“Thank you, Martin. Now to my place, please. Then you’re free of me for the weekend. I’ll take my own car to Mystic.”

“Yes, sir.” Martin pulled into the street, heading toward the Waterfront.

Back in the bar, Mo and Marcus said their good-byes to the girls.
 

“Do we want to sail again?” Kiera asked, gesturing to their empty drink glasses after the guys left.

Olivia looked at her watch. “Probably not. I really should get some sleep. Early day tomorrow.”

“And a long one, huh? You’re playing with the guys, aren’t you?”

Olivia laughed. “Kiera. That sounds so dirty.” She grabbed her purse and stood up from the table, heading in the direction of the door.

“Oh my god. Stop it!” Kiera laughed.

Carter saw the two girls and stood up from his table.

“Are we all set ladies?” he asked.

“Yes, we are. Thank you, Carter.”

“You were quite good, Miss Adler,” Carter said, causing Olivia to blush.

“Thank you.” Olivia looked outside and saw a downpour cloaking the streets of Boston.

Carter did a quick sweep of the bar. “Why don’t you ladies wait inside for a few minutes while I run to grab the car.” He hadn’t noticed any suspicious behavior at the bar, so he figured they would be fine for the few minutes it took him to get the car and bring it around front.

“Okay. Thank you, Carter.” He left, running into the rain.

“Well, I’m going to go use the little girls’ room. Will you be okay out here?” Kiera asked.

“Yes. Go ahead.” Kiera turned in the direction of the restrooms.

Olivia stood in the bar area, keeping an eye out the door for Carter and the SUV. As she stared out into the rain, pondering what Alexander was doing at that very moment, she felt someone approach behind her, sending chills down her spine.

“Livvy. Were you singing those songs for me?”

Olivia turned around quickly, knowing that voice all too well.

“Simon.” Olivia’s heart started to race. “You can’t be here. You know that. Walk away and I won’t call the police.” She took a step back, trying to keep her distance.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything.” Simon glanced to the bar. “I saw your new little boyfriend here earlier. Thankfully, he was too self-absorbed to even notice that I was sitting just down the bar from him.”

Olivia looked at Simon, confused. “What are you talking about, Simon?”

“You know. Your latest victim,” he sneered. “Alexander Burnham. He came in right before you went on, sat at the bar, and left right after you finished.”

Shit
, Olivia thought to herself.
He saw me. And he heard those songs.
Fuck! He heard me say that the last song was for him! Shit!

“Well, I’ll be off, Livvy. You enjoy your panic attack.” He turned to walk out the door as Olivia began to breathe heavily, fighting for air.
How could I be so stupid?

Kiera walked out at that moment and noticed that her friend had become very pale. “Olivia, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Olivia looked at her friend and responded, her voice almost a whisper. “He was here, Kiera. He saw me. He heard the songs I sang.”

“Who was here?”

“Alexander.”

“Wait. Shut the front door,” Kiera interjected with a shocked look on her face. “How do you know that?”

“Ummm, well, Simon just came up to me and told me,” she replied nervously.

“Olivia!!!” Kiera screamed. “He cannot just come up and talk to you.”

“I know that,” Olivia admitted. “But he gets one. It happens again and I’ll report him. But, Kiera. He saw. He heard those songs. How could I be so stupid?” Olivia looked out at the rain pouring down, nervous about what Alexander would think.

“What are you so worried about? You sang a few songs. So what? If he has half a brain, he’ll fall even more in love with you now that he knows you were singing to him. Relax. And stop worrying about it.”

“What if he freaks out because of it? What if he leaves me?” Olivia couldn’t believe her own words. She normally couldn’t care less if a guy left her or not. But she had become attached to Alexander over the last few days, and him leaving scared her to death.

“Olivia, I saw the way he looked at you last night as he led us out of the bar. It was as if you’re the most precious treasure on the face of the planet. As if he had been looking for you his entire life. He would never leave you, unless you do something incredibly stupid.” Kiera winked as she spotted Carter standing in the bar doorway, holding an umbrella. “Okay, let’s get out of here.”

“Okay,” Olivia exhaled, thankful to have someone like Kiera in her life to talk her down from the ledge.

C
HAPTER
S
IXTEEN
I
CE
C
REAM
G
RINS

“M
R
. Burnham, it’s wonderful to see you,” a middle-aged woman said, greeting Alexander when he entered his family’s house on the Mystic River.

“Good evening, Mrs. Carlson,” he replied, walking in through the large living room decorated in a nautical theme.

“How was your ride down? I had expected you earlier.”

“I’m sorry. I was detained in the city longer than I originally planned.” He dropped his bags by the mahogany staircase before striding into the formal dining room. Alexander couldn’t remember the last time that room had actually been used. The entire house seemed empty and cold.

“Can I get you anything to eat?” she asked, watching Alexander as he stopped in front of a large family portrait hanging on the expansive dining room wall. She always wondered who the little girl standing next to Alexander in the photo was.

“No. I’ll raid the kitchen myself. You don’t have to wait on me,” he said dryly, his eyes remaining glued to the portrait.

“Well, then, I’ll be right next door.”

“Is my mother around?” he asked, snapping his attention back to Mrs. Carlson.

“No. She's still in Colorado. Let me know if I can do anything else for you.”

“I will. Good night, Mrs. Carlson. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” She turned and walked out the front door, heading to the guesthouse adjacent to the waterfront property. Finally alone, Alexander slowly walked through the house and took in his surroundings, thousands of memories of his younger days rushing back from being in his childhood home once again. He loved growing up in that house. Until his best friend was taken from him. Then the house stood as a painful reminder of all the happy memories he shared with his friend. Memories he would never be able to re-create anymore.

It always pained him to be in that house. He returned once a year. That year, however, he was hesitant about continuing his ritual knowing that Olivia was, in fact, alive. But he just couldn’t break the tradition. Even though Olivia was alive, part of her did die that day, and he felt the need to continue to honor the memory of that little girl.

Alexander made his way into the large, airy kitchen to make a quick spring salad. It was a nice, breezy August evening, so he took his meal to the front porch of his family’s house and sat down, looking at the darkness of the Mystic River.

He recalled spending hours on end swinging on the porch swing with his best friend at his house on the river. The estate was built in the early nineteenth century and used to be owned by an old ship captain. Olivia grew up right down the street from him and they had become almost inseparable since her birth. She spent practically every weekend at Alexander’s house while her mother was in Newport, Rhode Island, where her family came from, attending one charity event or another. Her father, Jack, worked as a CIA analyst out of the Providence office and was never around that much, his work consuming most of his time. Alexander’s father, Thomas, also worked for the CIA but had left before Jack worked for the agency in order to start his own private security company.

When Olivia’s parents moved in down the street from Alexander’s family, Jack and Thomas became fast friends, having both worked for the agency. Thomas was relentless in trying to recruit Jack to work for his company, but Jack refused, preferring the work at the agency. The two families shared everything, including celebrating holidays together, although Jack was never really around.

Alexander recalled walking down to Mystic River Park with Olivia and his dad on a warm weekend day, the downtown area teeming with tourists taking in the historic maritime town. They would always stop in one of the local shops for ice cream. As a young girl, Olivia loved ice cream. Alexander wondered to himself if she still did. She would always get a scoop of rocky road and a scoop of strawberry ice cream finished off with sliced pineapples. It was such a strange combination, but the look on her face when she ate that first bite was something he would never forget.

Alexander finished his salad and went upstairs to his childhood bedroom that his mother had redecorated years ago. Although that was his family home, no one really lived there, his mother choosing to spend her time between her Denver and South Beach properties instead. His father had hired Mrs. Carlson quite a few years ago to maintain and care for the house when he decided to relocate the main office of his security company from Providence to Boston. At that time, the house became somewhere they would go on the weekends. After his father died, Alexander thought his mother would live in the house again, but it was too painful for her to spend too much time there, the reminders of her husband and everything that family had lost throughout the years overwhelming.

He crawled into his antique four-poster bed and glanced at a photo on the nightstand of him and Olivia when they were children. They were at Mystic River Park and Olivia and Alexander were both covered in ice cream. They stood hand in hand with big ice cream grins on their faces. A smile spread across Alexander’s face as he fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit!” a young Alexander heard his father shout into a pay phone. Alexander stood inside a hospital room on his ninth birthday as everyone crowded the little baby boy that his mother just gave birth to the previous day. He was happy to have a baby brother but was upset that he was missing time at the beach with his friend, Olibia.

Alexander was surprised when his father walked briskly into the hospital room, meeting his wife’s eyes. He bent down and whispered something in her ear. Her eyes went wide with concern. Whatever had upset his father worried her, too. He kissed her on the forehead before leaning down to do the same to the infant that lay in her arms.

“Alex, come with me,” he said sternly as he left the hospital room. Alexander hoped he didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t think he did.

“What is it, Dad?” Alexander asked as he followed his father down the long corridor, nearly having to run to keep up.

“We need to get back to the Cape. I’ll tell you in the car.” They practically ran out to the car and within moments were on the freeway, heading away from New London, Connecticut toward Chatham, Massachusetts.

Alexander turned to his father, looking into the same green eyes that he had. “What’s going on, Dad? You look worried.”

Thomas took a deep breath. How could he relay that information to his now nine-year-old son? “It’s Olivia and her parents. They’re in trouble, son. Olivia’s dad found out some things about some very, very bad people. They want to harm him and his family.” Thomas looked down at the speedometer and pushed in the accelerator, urgently trying to cut down his time.

“Marilyn, Olivia’s mother, called earlier this morning and left a message on our machine at the house. I just checked it. She sounded scared.” He didn’t want to say anything else to his son. About how Marilyn said she didn’t know who to trust. And that he was the only one she could trust. Marilyn wasn’t one to overreact, so the fact that she was frightened worried Thomas. Taking a deep breath, he continued. “When I tried to call their house, no one answered. So we need to go check on them.”

Alexander’s heart began to race. What if something bad happens to his Olibia? She was his very, very best friend. He remained silent the duration of their excruciatingly long car ride to Cape Cod. Two hours later, they pulled up to the driveway at the DeLuca’s beach house and frantically searched for their car.

“Do not get out of the car, Alex,” Thomas growled as he leapt out of the car, running toward the garage and the house. Within a few brief moments, he ran back to the large SUV Alexander sat in.

“Did you find them Dad?” Alexander didn’t know why he asked his father that. He could tell by his expression that he hadn’t found them or their car.

“No. And it looks like they left in a hurry, so something obviously spooked them.” Thomas put the car in reverse and accelerated toward the freeway, not wanting to tell his son about the blood he saw in the kitchen. A wave of relief washed over him when he saw the DeLuca’s sedan further up on the freeway. He stepped on the gas, needing to warn them before it was too late.

“Shit, no!” Thomas shouted when he saw a dark SUV pull out of a turnabout, speeding toward the DeLuca’s car, plowing into it and forcing it through a guardrail and into a tree. The SUV continued on the freeway. Slamming on the brakes, Thomas pulled off along the side of the road.

“Olibia! No!” Alexander swung the door open when the car came to a stop.

“Alexander, get back here. It’s too dangerous for you!” Thomas shouted, trying to catch up with his son.

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