Who I Am With You (31 page)

O
livia studied herself in the mirror, smoothing the gown her grandmother’s seamstress had designed for her. Jeweled red in tone, the color accented the copper highlights in her hair and the bodice fit tight to her hips, where it flowed to the floor in an elegant sweep. She styled her hair into soft waves, letting it fall past her shoulders, and she noticed excitement dancing in her brown eyes. It was because of Simon, a fact she only acknowledged in the safety of her mind. The jewelry she wore was her mother’s tiered diamond necklace. Yesterday, while going through the endless boxes at Catherine’s, she’d found her mom’s jewelry cases, such a wonderful surprise.

Olivia had just finished applying a final coat of lip gloss when her cell rang on the vanity beside her. Reaching for it, she felt an uncomfortable twinge when she noticed Duncan’s number.

“Hey,” he greeted when she answered.

Her happy mood faded some and she watched her lips dip into a frown. “Hey, stranger.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed. “Sorry I haven’t been around much. Work.”

“It’s okay. I mean, I’ve missed you, but I understand.” And she did understand. She saw how out of place he was at Catherine’s funeral, how he retreated into himself as the day progressed. “How have you been?”

“Good, good.” A quick chuckle passed through the phone. “It shouldn’t be this awkward, should it.”

“Duncan,” she sighed his name.

“Don’t sound so down. I am fine, but I guess we should talk sometime, huh?”

“I guess we should.” Olivia’s heart stuttered. Deep down, she knew where they were headed, and she truly hoped they stayed friends in the process. “You’ve got your friend’s party tonight, right?”

“On my way now. I just wanted to say hi.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I hope so.” She heard the doubt in his voice and all she wanted to do was comfort him. “Do me a favor,” he said.

“Anything.”

“Have fun tonight. Don’t worry about work, or Thomas, or me. Give yourself a chance to enjoy the entire evening.”

“You too, Duncan.”

They said goodbye and she set the phone down, swallowing the lump in her throat. Suddenly exhausted, her shoulders slumped. Duncan filled her with so many conflicting emotions; guilt and joy, promise and caution. Olivia needed to decide if he, and what they shared, was enough to fight for, or if it was time to acknowledge what had always been there—a gap neither could quite reach across.

The buzzer sounded, causing Olivia’s skin to tighten with anticipation and every thought of Duncan to flee her mind. She rechecked her reflection, a little surprised by the flush in her cheeks and the flutter in her stomach. Catherine had been laid to rest on Wednesday, only two days prior, and here Olivia was about to attend the ballet—with Simon.

As the elevator doors opened, and Simon’s gaze skimmed her body with everything he felt shining in his stare, warmth radiated through Olivia, right to her fingertips, too real to ignore. She owed it to herself to explore the chemistry between them, didn’t she?

“That’s some dress.”

“Thanks. And after all that bitching about wearing a tux, you’re looking pretty darn impressive, James Bond.”

“Careful, don’t fall victim to my dashing alter ego.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“I wouldn’t dream it.” She heard the lie fall from her lips and flushed with the knowledge it was already too late.

They kept the conversation light and easy during the limo ride to the theater, but Olivia couldn’t completely erase her anxiety over the public outing, so soon. What would people say?

“Stop it.”

She flashed him an impish look. “Sorry. Can’t help it. I worry I shouldn’t be seen at a party already.”

“A party your grandmother insisted you attend.”

“And it is good for the company,” she added reluctantly.

“Screw the company. Just have fun.” His remark pulled a chuckle from her. “I’m serious. Stocks are back up. We haven’t had any more freak accidents. Thomas gave me an off-handed compliment the other day. Your building is coming along great. Life is good.”

“What about your dad?”

“Haven’t heard from him.” Frown lines bracketed Simon’s mouth and Olivia stifled the desire to smooth them away with her fingers. “Did you already forget the part about having fun?”

He studied her closely and Olivia felt a magnetic pull towards him. She wondered what it would be like between them, how he kissed and where he’d put his hands. Would he cup her cheeks, or wrap his fingers in her hair? Heat pooled in her belly and her hand itched to touch his leg, to give him a signal. Thankfully, the limo stopped and snapped her back to reality. Flustered, she fumbled for her purse, only to catch sight of the throngs of media waiting outside, and a strangled whimper escaped her throat. Simon touched her shoulder and she peered over at him.

“What?”

“Have I mentioned how beautiful you are tonight?”

“Yes, and thank you.” Happiness bloomed inside her and she shot another unsure glance at the line of reporters.

“You’ll be fine. I’m right here. I promise,” Simon told her.

And, just like that, her nerves vanished.

As they walked into the theater, through the crowd of photographers, she felt the eyes of every single person. Channeling Catherine, as usual, and keeping Simon’s promise close to heart, she squared her shoulders and held her head high. Questions and shouts bounced off her.

“Olivia! Is Simon your date?”

“Can you comment on the status of the investigation?”

“Who are you wearing?”

They were shown to their seats and when the lights went down, all Olivia was aware of was Simon’s arm pressed against hers and the scent of his cologne, how close his thigh was to her leg. It was impossible to concentrate on anything else and when the lights came up, Olivia glanced around in shock. Had she just spent the last hour fantasizing about his arm? Oh Lord.

Neither of them spoke until they were walking arm in arm into the post performance dinner.

“That wasn’t near as bad as I thought it would be,” he admitted. “I was able to follow the story, which helped. Still not sure why it was about a swan, but it captured my attention.”

“It was a great performance,” she lied, feeling her face and chest redden. She frowned slightly, stepping closer to him. “Here comes the schmoozing.”

The large dining hall was lit by a pair of enormous chandeliers centered over the two-story tall space. Round tables decorated with white linen and candelabras circled the dance floor, already occupied by a handful of couples. The orchestra was in the balcony, playing as twinkling jewels and plunging necklines mingled with dapper tuxes.

“Would you like to dance?” Simon asked.

Olivia glanced around, meeting numerous curious gazes, and her stomach flipped. She wasn’t quite ready to be endearing and gracious, or share Simon.

“Yes. Let’s delay the inevitable a while longer.” He led her onto the dance floor and swept her into a waltz. The effortless movement brought a smile to her lips. “I had no idea you knew how to waltz, Mr. Greene.”

“Mom made me take lessons when I was a kid.” Embarrassment crept into his cheeks. “She said in a city as grand as New York, a man never knew when he might have the opportunity to sweep a beautiful woman around a dance floor.”

“Wise.”

“She is. She’s had a rough time with all Dad’s drama, but she’s stuck by him, for better or for worse.”

“How long have they been married?” Olivia asked, intrigued by this peek into Simon’s life. He didn’t open up often, especially where his family was concerned.

“Forty years.”

“She’s probably afraid to leave, to be on her own. It takes a lot of strength to start over.”

“You speak from experience,” he acknowledged. Then his brows furrowed, like he was deep in thought. “Are you better? Now?”

She knew he was thinking of the day Catherine died, of her breakdown. Olivia tilted her head, remembering how calm he stayed while she ranted and wept in his arms. The song changed and he pulled her closer.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she told him.

“Can’t help it.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“You scared the shit out of me, Olivia,” he said, his words cracking with pain.

It struck her then how strange a conversation it was considering their surroundings—dancing to an orchestra in the middle of New York’s elite players. It softened the harshness of the subject.

“Truth is, Simon, if you offered me a gram of heroin right now, I’m not sure what I’d do.”

“You’d say no. You’re stronger than that. You’re amazing.”

He raised his hand and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, causing her to shiver. She couldn’t help but think about how comfortable she felt in his arms. The pull returned, more expansive this time, and when his lips met hers, her heart soared with joy, as if coming home after being gone for far too long. Simon held her tight, pressing her against him.

A flash broke the spell and she realized what she’d done in front of everyone.

Olivia turned to see a cameraman snapping random pictures of the dancing couples. Seconds later the music stopped, completely popping the bubble she’d been in. She spun, catching Simon watching her cautiously.

“I’m not sorry,” he said.

She raised trembling fingers to her lips, relishing the way they still tingled. It’d been perfect. He’d been perfect, but a lump caught in her throat.

“I can’t.”

Turning to leave the dance floor, Simon came up behind her and diverted her to a shadowy corner. Shame mixed with the residual glow and she found herself unable to meet his stormy gaze longer than a second.

“Talk to me,” Simon demanded, his tone gruff.

“I made a promise to be better.” He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “Let me finish. I’m not sorry either. I love who I am with you, who you challenge me to be, and I won’t lie and tell you I haven’t wanted this for a while, even if I tried to deny it. But I made a promise to myself to be better,” she repeated. “I have to talk to Duncan first.”

“Talk? As in break up with him?” The hope in his words brought a smile to Olivia.

“I think it’s been headed that way for a while.” She paused. “I owe him an explanation.”

“And then?”

“What would you like to happen?” she asked him coyly.

He growled. “You know damn well what I want.”

Simon leaned in for another kiss to prove his point, knocking her breathless. She pushed him back before she lost herself in it.

“Message received,” she panted.

Grinning, Simon pressed his lips to her forehead and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I can be patient. I feel like I’ve waited my whole life already.”

Tears peppered Olivia’s eyes and she blinked them away, words failing her. She reached for his hand, squeezing it, and left him standing there. Her mind, although still foggy from his kisses, drifted to Duncan and remorse hit her. She hated hurting him, but worse, she was afraid of what would happen to his positive momentum once she told him it was over.

B
rushing off the awkwardness of his phone call to Olivia, Duncan knocked on Leslie’s door to pick Amanda up for the retirement party. On a whim, he’d called his daughter yesterday and asked her to be his date. Her answer, along with the accompanying giggles, had made his head glow and replaced a vicious withdrawal headache. Olivia lingered, though, and so did the realization it was time to set her free.

Leslie let him in with a smile, that simple gesture reinforcing the reason he had to say goodbye to Olivia. He was still in love with his wife. Peace settled over him and another piece of his life clicked into place. His family would be whole again and it soothed any pain or discomfort his recovery could send his way. He glanced to the sofa, expecting to see Adam perched in his usual spot with an Xbox controller in hand.

“Where’s Adam?” he asked.

“He’s spending the night over at Jessup’s. They’re planning to set up a tent and camp in the backyard.”

“Really?”

Leslie smiled. “Out of character?”

“A bit. He always seems more into video games, computers and Star Wars than camping.”

“They have a telescope.”

“Makes sense now.”

“Amanda’s almost done, but I have something for you.” She walked over to the dining table they’d had since getting married nearly sixteen years ago. The Thanksgiving dinners and game nights felt like a different life—one he could finally look back on and not spiral into shame. He just missed it, desperately. Leslie picked up a manila envelope and handed it to him. “I should have given you these months ago. You’re not the only one who held on to ghosts.”

Unsure, he opened it and extracted stiff, legal documents. “The divorce papers? You signed them?” Grief hit him, an icy wave of denial. He wouldn’t let this happen. “Why?”

“I figured a year was long enough to hold onto them.” Leslie drew closer and laid a hand on his, the one trembling under the emotional weight of the papers he held. “I forgive you, Duncan. This was caused by circumstances beyond our control and thanks to you, I understand now. I just hope, for our kids’ sake, we can still be friends.”

“You make it sound so simple. Forgive and move on.”

“It is. I know you blame yourself, but listen to me, I’m a big girl.”

Duncan grasped onto the warm glow of hope still inside him. “What if I don’t turn these in?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are we really done? Are we gone?”

“Duncan.” She sounded shocked.

“Leslie, this is us. Are we ready to give up?”

“Do you realize what you’re asking?”

“One hundred percent. Our family has been broken for too long.”

Tears shone in her eyes and he saw love there. Setting the envelope on the table, he reached out to pull her close when Amanda entered the room dressed in a black skirt and a sequined purple tank top, interrupting his and Leslie’s moment. No matter, he’d said what he needed to. He turned his attention to his daughter.

She looked so grown up and he immediately felt failure creeping in, but instead of dwelling, he decided to look forward to the future and making new memories he’d be a part of. Ones they would all be part of.

They said goodbye to Leslie and Duncan paused, sending her all of his feeling and intentions with one lingering glance.

“Where’s Olivia tonight? Thought she’d be your date,” Amanda asked as they settled in his truck.

“A fancy work thing.”

“Is everything okay with you guys?”

Jesus, his little girl was perceptive.

“I don’t think she and I are going to work out.”

“Really?” Fear punctuated her question.

“Don’t worry. I can deal with it, trust me. I meant what I said the other night. I’m going to be different.”

“Okay. I do like her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, no, sweetie. We’re just two different people connected by a set of tragic circumstances. It’s not the healthiest reason to be in a relationship.”

“Does it have anything to do with the vibes between you and Mom?”

“What?” He shot her a startled look. “You noticed?”

“A blind, mute dude could have noticed.”

“I’m working on it.”

Sneaking a peek, he noticed her smug expression and they rode for half a block in silence, until Amanda shattered the moment.

“I want to know about 9/11.”

Duncan twitched in shock. It was the last thing he ever expected her to ask. “Why?”

“I’m old enough to ask the tough conversations, Dad. I want to understand.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Why it turned you into a different man and made you so angry. I’ve done a lot of reading about it, but I want to hear your story.”

“You read about September 11th?” His mind raced, trying to keep up and mulling over whether he was going to grant her request. He didn’t want to burden her with that darkness.

“It had such a huge effect on us, and other families, so yeah, I was curious.” Her sigh wavered with emotion and nerves. “I want to hear it from you. All of it. I mean, you actually went into the towers, right? After the planes?”

Duncan caught the longing in her voice, the desire to feel closer to him and share his nightmares. For the life of him, he could not think of a reason not to tell her. He pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face his daughter. She held her body stiff, watching him with wide eyes.

“I did. We were charged with helping evacuate the north tower, after the second plane hit. I went in behind Paulie, with a rolled hose on my arm, oxygen on my back, and started up the stairs. It was tough. So many people were coming down.” He stared at her hard. “Are you sure you are ready to hear this?”

She nodded.

“Survivors were descending from the upper floors. Severely burned from jet fuel, the resulting fires. I remember being amazed at how far they made it with such devastating injuries.” He focused over her shoulder, lost in the past. “We were on the landing for the twenty-sixth floor, resting, catching our breath. The equipment made it physically exhausting, even for as good of shape a lot of the guys were in. The crowds were heavy and a few of the older officers were having a hard time. Another fireman passed us going down, said he just got the orders for an evacuation.

“I also remember strange things, fresh in my mind like it was yesterday. How our boots sounded on the stairs. The stench in the air. The signs telling us which floor we were on. It’s all so random. As bad as it was inside the tower, what I’d seen outside was worse. The carnage, the jumpers, if you weren’t there you can never understand how hard it was to concentrate on what I was supposed to do” He mentally shook off the past. “I shouldn’t go any farther. Not tonight. I’ll save the rest for another time. I promise.”

Amanda sniffed, wiping at her eyes and Duncan realized his were wet too. “The more I learn, the closer I feel to you, Dad. It’s terrible and scary and sad, but it’s also amazing to hear it straight from you. I know you don’t believe it, but no matter what happened, you’re a hero, especially to me.” She bit her lip. “I have one more question.”

“Sure.”

“Why drugs? What made you so mad all the time?”

The sadness in her soft voice brought tears to his eyes. “It was never anything you did. I hope you know that.”

“I guess.”

“There was so much death, no one was ready for that level of destruction. People were trapped, we could hear them, but there was no way to get to them. The pile was too deep, too dangerous, full of raging fires. What we did find ... well, it’ll never stop haunting me. I was mad at the men who did it, at our uselessness, at my inability to do my job, and it grew beyond my control.”

“But you couldn’t have done anything. No one could.”

“Logically, I know that, and I’ve accepted it now. I was sick, sweetie, just like any person with a disease. Drugs were my way of numbing the hurt and silencing the dark voice in my head telling me I failed. It hurt too much to feel.”

Amanda sniffed, rubbing her nose on the back of her hand. “And now?”

“It’s a struggle. I won’t lie to you.” He sighed. “It’s like I’m coming back to life, remembering all the good things I used to have. You and Adam and your mom, you three make me feel better than any drug ever did.”

“Olivia helped too, though, right?”

“She did, and I’ll always be thankful she came into my life. I hope she and I can be friends because she inspires me. Seeing her again jolted me out of the haze.”

“You saved her.”

“As the tower collapsed, yes.”

“She returned the favor.”

Duncan let out a dry laugh. “I guess she did.” With shaking hands, he yanked her into a hug, as well as he could in the truck. “Thanks.”

“For what?” she muttered against his chest.

“For being brave enough to ask me the tough questions. Now, cheer up.” He released her and tweaked her chin. “This is no way to show up to a party.”

He pulled onto the street, trying not to let the sights and sounds of the past overwhelm him. He wasn’t there. He was in the present with his beautiful daughter. Instead of meds, her presence was what chased the shadows away. That and the chance to put his family back together.

At the rec hall, Amanda abandoned him for her friends and watching her dart away, emotion welled behind his eyes. Such an idiot, he lectured himself. An amazing daughter and he had neglected her for too long. Since when was she so smart and mature?

Bill ambled up to him, wrapping Duncan in a one-armed hug.

“Thanks for coming, Dunc. Means a lot.”

“Didn’t know you had this many friends,” he joked. Duncan studied the crowd, impressed by how many had come to show their support.

His buddy’s face stretched into a grin. “What can I say? I’m a charming guy. When you retire I bet only four people show up, two of which are the caterers.”

“Probably right. I do enjoy pissing people off.” His laugh sobered as he studied Bill. The normally robust man was skinny as hell, deep hollows sunken into his cheeks. The skin on his arms, where it poked out from the rolled sleeves, was bruised in places. Back in the day, Bill had been a boxer in the department league, built like a brick house and unstoppable.

“How you feeling? Or should I ask?”

“Pretty good right now. I’m in between chemo sessions at the moment so I’m taking advantage of it.” It took a strong person to remain so positive and it reminded Duncan of Catherine.

The unfairness of this disease pissed Duncan off. Should they be punished for risking their necks helping people? For doing what no one else would? He shook it off. Once he started traveling that road, paved with dark thoughts, it was hard to turn around.

“I know sorry doesn’t cut it in this situation, but if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. No matter how outlandish and strange.”

“You’re the perfect guy if I want outlandish. Come on, man. Enough depressing shit.” He narrowed his gaze. “Are you and Leslie really done? I hear rumors you’ve moved on with another woman.”

Duncan reeled, hearing the near exact question he asked Leslie earlier. “I don’t want my marriage to be done, but you and I both know it isn’t as simple as that.”

“True, but despite all the problems Marian and I had, when my diagnosis came in, things changed. It’s never really over when you share a life with someone.” Bill leaned closer. “Did you know Leslie has been a godsend to Marian? Taking the kids to school when we have doctor’s appointments, bringing those amazing casseroles of hers.”

“She has?”

“She even organized the annual dinner for the widows and I hear she volunteers with other survivors from that day.” Bill narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t know?”

“No. I assumed she had distanced herself from that world, considering it’s part of what came between us.” Pride and astonishment held Duncan tight. Leslie may not have been able to help him with his demons after 9/11, but he never in a million years would have guessed she gave her time in association with the day she claims took him from her. He remembered something Olivia had said on their first date, about how if she’d been a firefighter’s wife she’d still mourn her husband even if he’d lived. Was that what Leslie was doing?

Bill slapped him on the shoulder. “We’re all family, Duncan. These wives are closer than sisters, the way I imagine army wives to be. One hurts, or needs something, they all do. Leslie keeping that up through your separation just shows you how special she is.”

Duncan nodded distractedly, hit with the urge to drive back to her house and wrap her in his arms. Why had he been so damn blind for so long? What if it was too far gone to fix? She hadn’t really said anything earlier. He didn’t want to consider the possibility she wasn’t interested.

Bill’s expression grew intense. “Seriously. Take advantage of the time you have. This job of ours, we flirt with death every day. You never know when it’s going to sneak up and wrap its icy fingers around your balls. Live.”

The earnestness of his friend’s speech humbled him. It was the sort of clarity that only came from staring mortality in the face. The inevitable kind, not the kind they faced in a fire.