Beware That Girl (18 page)

“Good call. I think Kate would love it.”

“I thought so too.”

“Look, honey, since you won’t be home when I get there, I wanted to tell you that everything’s arranged.”

“Uh…?”

“Our big plans for Christmas last year? Well, they’re on for this year. We leave on the twenty-fourth.”

“What?” Her stomach rolled over. “You mean Cabo?” God, they had talked about that way back in the summer! “For Christmas week?” Olivia almost tripped into the Salvation Army guy ringing his Christmas bell. She stuffed a twenty into his kettle on remote control.

“Dad, really? Uh, are you sure? I mean…”

“Absolutely! I promised you. I always keep my promises.”

No, no, no.

“Dad, I know we always talked about it, and we almost got there last year, when…”

“We come back on the second. I know how you hate this season in the city.”

“New Year’s too?”

“You bet. And the Yardleys are making their way over from London, just like we planned last year. They’re excited about seeing you.”

Olivia picked out and paid for the scarf in a daze. She also picked up her pace. She couldn’t be late. He didn’t like late. “Yeah, me too them, but I…”

I what? she wondered. Her well-intentioned dear old dad was going to ruin everything. All her plans…Olivia had purposely begged off anything that came up. Even with Serena, who was no longer amusing. The girl had been throwing off a slightly desperate vibe for weeks now. Olivia had been making room, and lots of it. She’d carefully factored in the maximum allowable time with her father—it was the holidays, after all, and he wouldn’t be back until the gala. But Kate was going to be schlepping vegetables, and Anka would be spending quite a few days with her sister.

And now it was all shot to hell.

“You’ve always wanted to go, and I needed to make it happen for my little girl.” Checkmate. She could hear her father wending his way through the airport, out to the limo stands. “You and Kate have a suite and your own infinity pool.”

“No, see, Dad, Kate really wants to earn a bit of cash over the holidays. She was quite insistent.”

She heard car doors and trunks opening.

“Okay, I get that. But the Yardleys are arriving in full force, just like old times. We’ll leave Christmas Eve afternoon.”

The doors slammed again. He was on his way.

“Olivia?” His voice was softer now. Her father was tired. It was a fourteen-hour flight from São Paulo. “Honey, if it’s not what you want, just say so. Maybe I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like this. Look, I-I can get the office to—”

“No, Dad, it’s great. I wanted to go more than anything, and then we had to cancel. You promised me even while I was in the hospital, and you made it happen. It’s…it’s a surprise, that’s all—but a lovely surprise. I’ll see you at home as soon as I get my shopping done, okay? Kate’s home, and Anka’s making beef Stroganoff.”

At exactly half a block from the Last Drop, in front of a jewelry store, Olivia stopped, reapplied her lip gloss, threw back her shoulders and rearranged her face. Her expression should be one of anticipation tinged with dismay. She bit the corner of her lip and widened her eyes. There.

Of course Mark was disappointed when she told him. He even pouted. He looked so disarmingly boyish in that moment that she wanted to touch his mouth. And then she did, marveling at her boldness. “It will be worth the wait, I promise.”

“Well, then.” Mark intertwined his fingers with hers and then kissed them. “I will wait.” He seemed to be searching her. “And when you do visit, well, discretion is everything, isn’t it? This is important and I don’t like repeating myself: you must remember to use the stairs, Olivia. Never the elevator. Got it?” And then he kissed her fingers again, and then again.

I was pretty much penniless. Even with my room and board totally gratis, Christmas wiped me out. It was why I had to go back to the market. Well, that and I sort of wanted to.

We did Christmas morning on Christmas Eve, and if I were a crier, I would have cried. All those years…I always had to go home over the holidays, to whatever foster family I was nominally in the care of. None of them—not even the Petersons, who were halfway decent—included me the way that Anka, Olivia and Mr. Sumner did. It wasn’t just the gifts. It was the way they made me feel like I was
supposed
to be there, opening my gifts with them. In return, I did my best to give them a show. You have to make people like that feel as if you’re overwhelmed with gratitude.

Thing is, I was.

Anka gave me a gorgeous gray cashmere bathrobe, and that was from the housekeeper! Olivia surprised me with an Hermès scarf that was large enough to cover a family of four, and Mr. Sumner produced this amazing necklace crafted from Brazilian gemstones. I was going to be very, very careful with that one. If they tossed me out, I figured that whatever it would fetch on eBay would give me a livable sum until Yale. Damn, Yale. I started hyperventilating. Stop.

Stop.

Okay.

My gifts were a hit too. I gave Anka a grocery tote made of a patchwork of saris from Rajasthan. Mr. Sumner got a vintage fake Patek Philippe watch, which he put on immediately and kept on even as they left. I scored a “look what fell off the back of a truck” fuchsia Chloé bag for Olivia. Even with my world-class bargaining skills, it set me back big-time, since it was the real stolen deal from the Ugandans who peppered downtown and not a mere knockoff. Hence the need to get back to work, pronto.

Olivia and her father left for Cabo San Lucas at 2:07, Anka left for her sister’s at 2:50 and I was working by 4:00.

Mrs. Chen, of course, gave me her usual exuberant greeting.

“You trouble?”

“No! No, Mrs. Chen, it’s good. My friend went away for the holidays with her family.”

She frowned.

“They asked me to go with them, but I said no. Look, I need to work, but everything is perfect.”

“I smell trouble.” She folded her arms, still frowning. “You lucky. I no rent room. Is yours when you come back. Blond girl not good.”

My stomach lurched at the thought of those perpetually damp Spider-Man sheets.

“Honestly, Mrs. Chen, I’ve never been happier. Hey, Merry Christmas!” I handed her a very small bottle of perfume, Coco Noir by Chanel.

As soon as she opened it, she made a face and handed it back. “Too much. Get money back.”

“No, it wasn’t, Mrs. Chen. Really. I got it from the Ugandans.”

She nodded, muttered a “ha” and snatched the bottle back. Yet another successful purchase on my part. All in all, it was a shockingly smooth transition back into my former life. The market does not close for the holidays. Christmas was one of the Chens’ busiest times of the year, and I’d be pulling ten-hour shifts until the Sumners got back on the second. Work all day and do my readings and summaries at night. I needed the money and I needed the work.

Like I keep saying, a day needs bones.

The rest of the Wonders were a bit more problematic. They kept wanting to get together. Serena was relentless. Something was up with her. She wanted to “at least meet for drinks” before she left for London on the thirtieth, but there was no way I could afford the time or the price of the drinks, so I kept begging off. I had a moment of feeling bad about that. I almost liked Serena. I did promise Morgan that I’d go to the Sutcliffe New Year’s Eve party with her and Claire, though. I’d find some excuse not to go at the last minute. I would
not
feel bad about that.

—

My cushy new life had made me soft. I was flat-out exhausted by the twenty-sixth.

Johnny turned up on the twenty-seventh.

“Heard you were back.” He shared Mrs. Chen’s sneaking-up-on-you skills.

“Yeah? Took you long enough to find me.”

“Ooooh, do I detect a tone?” He grabbed a Bartlett pear in plain sight of Mrs. Chen and bit into it. Something I had not yet dared to do.

“I doubt you could
detect
anything, my once and future cop.”

“
Your
future cop? Possessive case, so to speak?” A dark eyebrow rose.

“It’s a figure of speech, so to speak. A riff on a book title.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know about that, being the product of a public school education and all.”

Man, he was annoying, standing there all smirky and superior and gorgeous-like.

“How about a coffee break back at my bakery?”

“No.”

“I’m not asking you to move in with me, just share a fifteen-minute coffee break.”

“Can’t.”

“Hey, Mrs. Chen!” He was shouting and waving his arm to catch her attention way back in the Apothecary section.

To my horror, she waved back and smiled at him. That woman has not once—
ever
—smiled at me.

He pointed to my head. “Kate and me, coffee?”

“Sure, Johnny, sure!”

Adding insult to injury, she was still smiling as he hauled me out of the market.

It took us practically fifteen minutes just to get to the bakery. Johnny appeared to know every single human in Chinatown, and his place was at the outer edge. More perplexing was that everyone seemed to know me, or at least about me—even people at stores and stalls I’d never been near. “Ah, the Chens’ girl!” seemed to be the standard greeting.

I was tired. Maybe my guard was down. I ended up blathering to Johnny about scholarships and how many times I’d had to move and the Yale debacle. Don’t know why. Maybe I was in a mood. Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I was pathetic.

Johnny, in turn, told me about growing up in the market, and about the loss of his dad. And I listened. Don’t know why.

He said he’d pick me up every day at 4:15 for our coffee break and I agreed.

Don’t know why.

Just as we were heading back, I heard a laugh I recognized coming from up ahead and across the street.

“Hey, isn’t that one of your uptown friends?”

I spotted her and my stomach seized.

“Yeah, you were with her at that party. You all came in together and blew everyone else out of the water.”

My throat constricted.

“I’m sure she was with you.” Johnny turned to me, puzzled. “Who’s the guy?”

No.

The “guy” placed a protective arm around her waist. I stared at them, silent and stupid, until they disappeared into the crowd.

“Kate?”

Serena? Damn it, Serena! Where are you going? And why the hell are you going there with Mark Redkin’s arm wrapped around your waist?

Olivia wanted to rush over to Mark’s the moment they landed, but of course she couldn’t, so she didn’t. She texted him twice—once at the airport, once in the limo—and then promised herself that she wouldn’t text again. The drive was agony. The whole trip was agony. The resort was spectacular, but the reunion with the Yardleys was hardly bearable. The Yardleys had somehow transformed into self-involved bores. Their last trip together was a lifetime ago. Olivia had transformed since then too. Several times.

All week long, she replayed Mark’s every touch, kiss and glance, and fantasized about what was to come. What would Mark do? How would she react? How would she play it, manage it? It was the only way she got through the trip.

Olivia scrutinized her phone the whole ride home. Thank God her father was glued to his BlackBerry. The poor man had to do an almost immediate turnaround and be on a plane for São Paulo that night. She’d be free all evening. She would wait.

“Happy New Year and welcome home!” Kate showered them with streamers and confetti the moment they opened the door. Bruce barked and Anka tooted a ridiculous toy horn. All of them wore sparkling princess hats that proclaimed, “IT’S A NEW YEAR!” (although Bruce’s fell off the instant he leapt into Olivia’s arms).

“You know, I actually worry that he loves you more than he does me,” said Kate, reaching for her friend. “I missed you so much! You too, Mr. Sumner. Welcome home, welcome home!”

“Not for long, I’m afraid, but thank you for, well, all of this.” He appeared to be genuinely touched. “I’ve never had such a warm and…exuberant greeting.”

Olivia had so missed Kate. Kate would have made the whole week in Cabo far more tolerable. Although they’d broken their standing rule and texted frequently, the phone was a poor substitute. The phone! She checked it as soon as she put Bruce back on terra firma.