Who I Am With You (17 page)

For nine years he’d gone though life unleashed, a car careening into a crowd with no brakes. Since Olivia, he felt grounded, more connected to life, but not even she could chase away the bone crushing guilt plaguing him every day. It’d been tattooed on his soul and he was afraid removing it would leave worse damage. Hell, he’d already abandoned one woman for selfish reasons.

Being sober forced him to look at a very ugly reflection, and he was far from ready to let go of the anger. Hopefully, it didn’t cost him a fresh start and a new chance at happiness. Duncan left his apartment, the bottle of pills still sitting on the bathroom counter. Maybe it was time for him to man up.

E
very inch of Olivia’s body ached, in a good way. She turned her head on the pillow, smirking at Duncan beside her. He sure knew how to turn a woman inside out, a skill she was more than happy to take advantage of. Glancing at the clock, she noted it was already eight and stretched. Sitting and rubbing the grogginess from her eyes, she grinned as Duncan stirred.

“It’s early,” he grumbled.

“No, it’s not, not really. I should get going.” But instead of rising, she leaned back against the headboard.

His arm snaked around her bare waist. “Stay.”

“I have to see Catherine. It’s been two days since I visited her. I’m a terrible granddaughter.”

“Blame me.” He nuzzled her belly, trailing kisses over her abdomen, and the lightness of his lips caused her to giggle.

“Oh, I do blame you, at least for last night. The rest has been all business. There aren’t enough hours in the day.”

Duncan traced his thumb across her lips and desire sparked, spreading and attempting to reduce her to ashes. With a groan, she pushed him away and swung her legs over the side of the mattress.

“Want me to come with?”

Olivia slipped into a pair of yoga pants, touched by his offer. She’d return later to shower and make herself presentable for Duncan’s kids.

“No, sleep a little more. We can’t do my family and yours in one day. Too much.”

“Are you sure about meeting Adam and Amanda? Last chance to bail.” He flashed her a grin.

Pulling a tank top over her head, she gathered her hair into a messy bun, stalling for time. If she told him it scared her to death, that she was afraid she’d made a mistake suggesting the get-together, would he be upset? Would he take her seriously if she joked about the extra meetings she attended this week to prepare?

She didn’t want to be afraid, so she leaned down and kissed him before saying, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Turning away from the tempting man in her bed, Olivia took off for her grandmother’s. It was beautiful out. Clear blue sky peeked through the buildings, a soft breeze chasing away most of the usual smog. She crossed the street to the bakery halfway between her place and Catherine’s, the one she often stopped at when not lugging armfuls of her own goodies. Stepping in, she spotted Val, the owner’s niece, struggling with a flattened and overly brown loaf of bread. The pink-haired young woman glanced up and relief flooded her features.

“Oh, good morning. I was worried you were Aunt Bernadette.”

No other customers were in the tiny bakery and Olivia peered over the counter at Val’s mess. “Did you proof your yeast?”

A horrified expression slackened the girl’s round face. “That’s what I forgot. My aunt mentioned it twice when I assured her I could open the store.” Val tossed the foil pan in the trash. “Now I have to start over.”

“Warm water and sugar. Activate the yeast first and you’ll be fine on this batch.”

“Thank you! You should be working here instead of me. Hard to believe I’m in baking school.” She shoved her hair out of her face. “Would you like a pastry? I promise I didn’t make them. It’s on me.”

“It takes time to master bread,” Olivia assured her. “And thank you, I’ll have a strawberry danish.”

Walking into her grandmother’s house, she wiped the remnants of the pastry from her mouth and tossed the napkin in a waste basket. Rich laughter drifted down the hall, male and female. Curious, she went to investigate and the sight froze her in her tracks. Simon perched in a chair beside the bed, head tossed back as he laughed. He looked different. Unguarded. Even his clothes were relaxed. Instead of a suit he wore jeans, a faded Giants t-shirt, and sneakers. Affection tugged at her heart and a smile played on her lips. It was nice to see him at ease after the intensity of the last couple weeks.

“What are you two so happy about?” Olivia kissed Catherine on the cheek and sat in the chair opposite her. Her grandmother had on a fresh nightgown and the pale peach hue gave her face some color.

“Catherine’s been entertaining me with scandalous stories about being a young debutante in the Forties. You know, she wasn’t always proper,” Simon answered, flashing his small dimple.

“You were a heartbreaker.” Olivia patted the woman’s hand. “I’ve seen pictures of your debut and wedding to prove it. You were my inspiration growing up.” She directed her attention to Simon. “Believe it or not, I too was a debutante, although not a willing one. They had to bribe me with a new books first.”

“Books?”

“Yes. I was quite the nerdy bookworm.”

“A nerdy bookworm? You?” Disbelief dominated his tone as he studied her with a grin.

“This one liked to hide in corners with her nose in a book,” Catherine told him. “If I remember correctly, they weren’t subjects a normal teenage girl read either. She loved reading about architecture, history, other serious stuff. I wouldn’t have tolerated it if they’d been silly romances or vampire nonsense.”

“That kind of thing never interested me.”

“Since we’re sharing, I’ll confess the secret reason I majored in business management.” He paused. “I wanted to be a sports agent.”

Olivia studied him closely. “I can see that.”

“Good, because as much as my dad loves sports, he never failed to laugh it off.”

Knowing what a dark subject his father was, she steered him in a lighter direction. “You could have dedicated yourself to finding a way to get the Giants back in the Super Bowl.”

He groaned. “Don’t get me started on that. They win in ’07 and now three sub-par years have passed. There haven’t even been that many personnel changes to the team. I don’t get it.”

“Me either.”

“Nice to know you didn’t change your football loyalties after all those years on the west coast.”

“Oh, no way. I bleed Giants’ red and blue, like Dad.”

Simon beamed at her and she tried not to fidget under his gaze. They shared an unexpected and unforeseen passion for the same things—history, football over baseball, even the crazy bustle of the city—and she loved their banter. In a lot of ways, she considered him the male version of Natalie. Until that annoying trickle of attraction decided to pop its head in, as it did now. She shoved it down, deep inside, appalled. There was a man lying in her bed at home and here she was nearly drooling over this one. Classy, Olivia, she said to herself.

Catherine spoke up, refocusing Olivia’s attention where it belonged.

“I’m glad you’re both here. There’s something I want to run by you.” She rubbed her eyes and slumped in the bed. “Three Fridays from now there is a gala for the New York City Ballet. I’ve attended for years, a tradition of sorts, and we are a long time sponsor, but this will be the first one I’ve missed in nearly a decade. Your parents used to go, Olivia. I’m sure you remember.” She stumbled for a moment, flinching and drawing in a deep breath. “I RSVP’d on behalf of you both and expect you to attend, as a favor to me and to represent VDB.”

“Of course. Mom loved it, and so did I. I’m happy to go,” Olivia said.

Simon grimaced. “The ballet? Really, Catherine, I might not be the best person for this.”

“Nonsense.” Catherine fixed him with a hard glare. “You will escort my granddaughter like the gentleman you keep hidden under all those smug layers.”

“You mean for us to go together?” She didn’t mind going with Simon, but this felt eerily close to a set up. Catherine wouldn’t do that, would she? No, she was being paranoid. Logically, she realized being seen with Simon, united, made for good press. The company needed it.

“I made you an appointment with my dressmaker at Oscar de la Renta. She is a skilled seamstress.” Catherine continued, her words growing softer, “Simon, you’ll be required to wear a tux, of course.”

“Why don’t you just shoot me?” He tossed Olivia a glare as she snickered. “Yeah, yeah, yuk it up, Liv. You get to dress in a gorgeous gown and watch a floofy production most women love. I’ll be sitting beside you, itching to be free of the penguin suit and trying to stay awake.”

“Don’t be such a baby. I’ll whack ya if you fall asleep.”

They laughed, but Olivia caught her grandmother glancing between them with intrigue and hoped Catherine didn’t get the wrong idea.

“Now, on to business, before I lose what little strength I have. Simon, any possibility this false permit for the crane might have been a fluke?” Catherine asked.

“My gut tells me no. Even if it slipped through the cracks and didn’t get insured, that doesn’t explain the permit down at City Hall with my fake signature.”

“And you’re certain it’s a forgery?”

“Of course it is, Grandmother,” Olivia supplied, hating the way Simon’s jaw clenched at the question.

“My buddy at the crime lab verified it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There is another disturbing piece of news I found out yesterday from the detectives. The bolts on the crane were tampered with, weakened from a welding torch. The only people with access were VDB’s contractors, so between that and the falsified documents, they think it had to come from someone internal.”

Olivia’s stomach dropped to the floor as a beat of silence descended on the room. She glanced at Catherine, who had paled even further than usual. The possibility had always been there, but to have it confirmed rocked her to the core.

“They’re looking at my employees?” Catherine’s voice shook.

“Yes,” Simon verified. “They won’t tell me who, so I assume that means I’m on their short list.”

“Don’t think that,” Olivia told him.

“Anyone who would consider you responsible is out of their damn mind,” Catherine added with heat.

“I appreciate the support, both of you. This makes me sick.”

“What disturbs me is that it was this crane specifically. That block of Warren Street is a busy one. Whoever did it doesn’t have any regard for human life.” Olivia’s next words were heavy on her tongue. “I’m worried it will happen again. Two attacks cannot be random, and knowing it could be one of our own makes it a million times worse.”

Her horror reflected in Simon and Catherine’s faces and a thought hit her with the force of a runaway truck. Did the timing have anything to do with her return to New York, with her reemergence at the company? Maybe the detectives were digging into her shady past and the heinous people she used to associate with. A shudder ran down her spine, but she kept the suspicions to herself. There was no point worrying the others. Still, the possibility made her ill.

“It can’t be a VDB employee. I refuse to believe any of my people would do that,” Catherine said with a wheeze. “We must be prepared for anything. Let’s hope this idiot left behind a clue. The fire?”

“Ruled as arson. Also still under investigation,” Simon answered. “My patience is wearing thin.”

Her grandmother’s eyelids drooped and Olivia’s heart ached at seeing her energy wane so fast. It seemed to worsen each time she visited. Even the so-called good days were not that great lately.

“Try not to worry. Simon and I are on it.”

As Catherine drifted into sleep, Olivia and Simon gathered their things and left. Outside, on the sidewalk she slipped on her sunglasses and mentally switched gears, preparing herself for the excursion with Duncan and his kids.

“I hate seeing her so weak,” Simon muttered. “Isn’t right.”

“You dropped a huge bomb on her. VDB has been her life and I can’t imagine how she is feeling about the possibility it’s an inside job. I hope they’re wrong. And you’re mistaken, she is far from weak. Her mind refuses to give up, but it’s frustrating to have your body betray you.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“I chose to do it to myself, which is worse. My mind betrayed me as much as my body did.” Olivia shook her head to chase away images of bones visible under her skin and soiled sheets.

He watched her for a while and she shifted restlessly.

“What are you up to the rest of the day?” Simon asked.

“Meeting some friends, catching up.” She avoided the truth, convinced he’d voice his doubt and reaffirming that meeting Duncan’s kids may be happening too soon. With the high level of anxiety humming through her body, she wondered why she had suggested it in the first place.

“Good for you. I’m going to run down and make sure the cleanup is going smoothly at the crash site. Then I might go work on your building.”

That morsel caught her off guard. “What would you do there?”

“I’m not as high-maintenance as I look, Liv. Don’t let these soft hands fool you.” He smirked, holding them out. “I told you I grew up in construction. I love it. Can’t wait to get a hold of the original crown molding, give it a good sanding, especially after I had to beg the lead contractor to let me assist on a couple things. When my mind is on overdrive like this, physical labor works wonders.”

“Similar to what baking does for me.”

“But with a worse smelling result.”

“Wait. I thought you weren’t a fan of the building? You make fun of it every chance you get.”

“The CEO in me wasn’t, still isn’t. Handyman me loves it.”

“You have many layers, Greene.”