Who I Am With You (33 page)

O
livia stared at her building, excitement growing. The construction and remodeling was moving along quickly and the front already boasted new windows, as well as fresh trim ready for a coat of paint. Her heart swelled with happiness. This was exactly what her dad imagined. She only hoped he was proud of her for opening her business here.

The sound of hammering drew her to the front door of the bakery. She stepped inside and found Simon prying up the worn floor. Her contractor was laying the black and white checked tiles next week and Olivia could hardly wait. Otherwise, the store was gutted to the framework, or to where the original brick walls had been exposed. She made sure to keep those since they added warmth and rustic charm.

“Hey,” Simon greeted as he pushed to his feet, his face and clothes dusty, tool belt slung low on his hips. He reached for a bottle of Gatorade on a nearby sawhorse and desire pooled in her belly. She liked this side of him. “Dreaming again?”

“About more than the shop.”

She grinned as he stalked towards her. “I’m glad you’re here. I have a surprise for you. Sort of a grand opening gift.”

His buoyant mood was contagious and he linked his fingers with hers, drawing her to the far wall where a large hole had been made, allowing her to glimpse inside the neighboring store.

“Did you have an accident?” she asked with a smirk.

“No, smartass. This space,” he indicated the part he was working in, “is entirely too small for a baker of your talent. You need more room to create your masterpieces, to expand into other areas if you wanted. So, we’re combining these two stores just for you.”

“You’re kidding?” Olivia inched closer, peering into the dingy room but only seeing possibilities.

“The hole should say I’m pretty serious.”

“I was perfectly fine with the original space.”

“It’ll give you more room for tables and to grow,” he told her. “To continue growing.”

She surveyed the new floor plan, letting her mind visualize it. The curved counter and display case she wanted would fit really well right where the stores used to share a wall, giving her a much bigger kitchen than she dreamed. She wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything. More seating intrigued her, maybe even a couple couches to relax in and sip a cup of tea. Live music.

Impulsively, she leapt forward and threw her arms around Simon’s neck. “I love it!” She pulled back, beaming at him. “I never even considered doing this. The square footage has doubled. I am going to have an amazing kitchen.”

“Figured you’d hone in on that detail first. I wanted to surprise you. You deserve this.”

“Well, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Although, I know you have ulterior motives.” She hugged him again and stepped into the new area, taking it all in. He really was amazing, on all levels.

“If you mean more room to make delicious treats, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Suddenly, a thought hit her out of the blue.

Cat’s.

She’d name the bakery after Catherine. Olivia wouldn’t have realized this dream if not for her grandmother. A smile lit her face and she tested the name aloud.

“Cat’s.”

“Did you see one?” Simon glanced at the shadowy corners of the room.

“No, silly. I’m going to name it Cat’s, after Catherine. Cat’s Bakery and Sweets.”

He considered it, nodding his head. “She’d love it, and be the first one to take credit for making you do this in the first place.”

“Sounds like her.”

They laughed and she hated to kill the good mood, but she had things to tell him. “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“It’s too early for you to have both,” he groaned.

“Well, I do. So choose.”

“You pick.” He led her to a pile of boards and they sat.

“I went to see Duncan.”

“Fine, start with the bad.”

“No.” She chuckled, bumping her shoulder against his arm. “Turns out he expected it, saw you and me happening before we did. And he’s getting back with his wife.”

“Wow.” Simon’s eyes widened. “Good for him. And for the record, I saw it a while ago too. You and me.”

“How long?”

“As soon as you called me ‘Scott’ the day we met, I knew we were a perfect, sarcastic match.”

“Since we’re being honest, I did too. I just ignored it.”

“Ouch.”

“Well, I didn’t want to be a floozy, carrying on with two men. It wouldn’t have been fair to either of you.”

“And I know Duncan means a lot to you. He saved your life. Not to sound like a total woman, but what does this mean for us?”

“Us.” Olivia closed her eyes and smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

He surprised her with a kiss that curled her toes and left her panting. When she caught her breath, she said, “I’ve been wanting to do that since waking up this morning.”

“Same here.”

“Being with you feels so natural, but I still worry.”

“Why?”

She bit her lower lip. “From the beginning, the way I saw it was you were light, and I was dark. I hate the possibility of infecting you with all the negative things in my past, of changing who you are.”

“Olivia.” He stared at her in disbelief before placing his hands on each side of her face. “It kills me to hear you say things like that. You’re not going to infect me. I’m not perfect, so don’t put me on a pedestal. I’ll fall off, a lot.”

“If you knew half the things I’ve done.” She trailed off, kicking herself for being such a downer.

“Then you wouldn’t be the strong and inspiring woman in front of me. I’m not concerned with your past. Only your future.”

They kissed again and Olivia let it chase away her doubts. Until her conscious reminded her she still had to tell Simon about his father. Restless, she stood, wandering to the spot she planned on putting the counter and display case, then pivoted to take note of the view she’d have out the window. Standing there, she’d be able to see people walking by, the world passing. It sounded insane, but she couldn’t remember being anywhere that felt this comfortable or with anyone this wonderful.

Now, the hard part. No more stalling. She cleared her throat and noticed her pulse increased.

“That only leaves the bad news, and I’m sorry I didn’t lead with it, but I ran into your dad.” Simon’s eyebrows rose. “Or I guess I should say he tracked me down. I came out of my building and he was waiting for me.”

His face turned to granite. “What did he want?”

“Mostly to voice his displeasure with VDB and how we ruined his life. Thinks I owe him what he lost. He wasn’t making much sense. I may or may not have made the situation worse, but he called Catherine a hag and then grabbed me pretty hard.” She showed him her arm. Initially, she was going to leave that part off, not tell him his dad hurt her, but Simon deserved full disclosure to understand the severity of the situation. She didn’t want to start their relationship by keeping something from him.

He gently ran his fingertips over the red skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, Simon.”

“Son of a bitch,” Simon cursed, turning and pacing with his hands resting on his belt. “He is clearly out of his damn mind. He calls me constantly, but I ignore him and only talk to mom. She says he hasn’t been home in over a week. A week, Liv! If it weren’t for the calls, telling me he’s alive, I’d put out a missing person report.” He scrubbed at his hair, frustrated. “I don’t know what to say to him. This man is a stranger to me.”

“From what I could tell, he’s beyond anyone being rational with him, but he is in dangerous territory, where he might hurt himself or others.” Her heart ached for Simon. “Alcohol doesn’t help.”

“Perfect.”

She walked over to block his path. “Don’t put this on yourself. You are not responsible for his actions.”

“I can’t help him.” He stared at her with wet, tortured eyes. “He’s my dad and I hate that he is hurting. What do I do?”

“Don’t give up. Sooner or later, he will need you.” She sighed. “When I was in a dark place, nothing anyone said penetrated. I didn’t want to hear about how much I’d screwed up, how badly I hurt people. I didn’t get better until
I
made the decision to. I just watched the same thing with Duncan. His moment of truth didn’t come until he wanted it. I will warn you, your dad may get worse before he gets better.”

“What about an intervention?”

“It could go either way, putting him into treatment against his will could very well backfire, but it might also wake him up. You should discuss it with your mom.”

“I know you’re right.” Simon sniffed, pinching his nose then refocusing on his anger. “I’m sorry he came to you. He’s become obsessed with VDB, thinking they screwed him on purpose. I don’t even understand what deals he lost out on, his ramblings are never coherent.”

She placed her palms on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“It won’t happen again. I’ll go talk to him. Maybe something I say will sink in. I have to try,” he said stiffly.

“Of course you do. He’s your father.”

He gave her a distracted peck on the cheek and gathered his tools. “Are you going to stay here a bit?”

“Yeah. I want to look around. I’ll lock up behind me.” He turned to leave but she called out to stop him. “Meet me back here this afternoon?”

“Why?”

A loud bang above cut off her reply. “What was that?”

Another thud had Simon furrowing his brows. “Shouldn’t be anyone up there. I’m the only one working today.”

“Squatters?”

“One way to find out.” He retrieved a hammer and strode towards the front door. Olivia trotted behind him.

“No, stay here,” he ordered.

“I’m coming with you.” She held up her phone. “You knock ‘em out, I call for backup.”

A grin bloomed across Simon’s face. “See? We’re a perfect match.”

T
he second floor was vacant and, even though they didn’t hear any other noises, they decided to climb the final flight to do a quick check of the third level. Olivia trailed Simon, bouncing between fear and curiosity. Each time they passed an open apartment door, she was worried at what they might find and was equally impressed with the space and authentic detailing. The original molding looked wonderful, even after a thorough sanding, and the tall windows offered breathtaking city views.

“Maybe they left?” she whispered.

“Maybe.”

Olivia sighed, letting herself be drawn into a doorway. “Look at the light coming in these windows.”

“Some crime-fighting partner you are.” Simon joined her in the sun-flooded apartment and glanced around. “I am beginning to gain a whole new appreciation for builders in the early 1900’s. They knew how to make a small area appear bigger.”

“Higher ceilings help.” She smirked. “Wait, did you just compliment something that wasn’t the newest and fanciest?”

“So?”

“I need to write this down.”

“I’m never bringing you to my place,” he said.

“Why?”

“You’ll just make fun of it!”

“Mirrors on the ceiling?”

Simon approached her and bent, burying his face in her neck and pressing his lips there. “Only if you beg.”

Desire muddled her brain. She grabbed him, pulled him in close and kissed him hard. He groaned against her, driving her back until she was pressed against the bare studs of the far wall. Olivia pushed her hips to his and he chuckled into her hair.

“How scandalous, Miss Van den Berg.”

“What?” she panted, wishing he’d shut the hell up and put his mouth on hers.

“Christening your building in broad daylight.”

“Bet your ass.”

A crash echoed from the hall outside the apartment, the sound of a bottle breaking and the recognizable splash of liquid. Simon spun away from her, retrieving the hammer Olivia didn’t remember him dropping. Footsteps made their way down the hallway and the air around them stilled, as if the building was holding its breath.

“Who’s there?” Simon called out, inching closer to the door.

The steps stopped, allowing other sounds to materialize—crackling and popping.

Simon reached the door, Olivia right on his heels with a fistful of his shirt. He peered around the corner and she felt his body tense.

“Shit.”

Looking over his shoulder, she froze in fear. A barrier of fire stood between them and the stairs, blocking the exit. It raced along the walls with lightening speed, devouring the old wood. A frantic rhythm danced in her chest and smoke caused her eyes to tear.

“What do we do?” Panic caused her voice to break.

“Use your phone.”

She was an idiot. Olivia punched in the numbers for 9-1-1, but the call failed. “Son of a bitch. No service.”

“Check the windows!”

She obeyed as he disappeared into the hall, listening to him calling for help and beating on walls. With her phone in one hand, she managed to open a window, but it stuck halfway up, warped from years of paint and weather, and the jolt caused her to lose grip of the cell. It tumbled to the ground and shattered.

“Wonderful.”

Leaning her head out, she scanned the empty side street and cursed the missing fire escape.

“Help! We’re in here!” she cried at the top of her lungs.

Nothing.

Giving up on the window, she scurried towards Simon, hacking on the smoke and squinting against the sting. He appeared before her, hunched over.

“Get down.” Snatching her wrist, he pulled her to the floor. “Any luck?”

“No. Figures the one time you need to find someone the street is empty.”

“Still no signal?”

“No, I kind of dropped it.”

He gawked at her. “Fire escape?”

“None.”

“Damn, that’s right. They’re in the process of tearing it down because it was rusted through. A new one is being installed Monday.”

“Perfect.”

She saw a flash of Simon’s white teeth through the smoke. “I love your positivity.”

“Yeah, well, it’s fading fast.”

“I think our best bet it to run through the flames.”

Olivia snorted. “Sounds safe.”

“There are no other options.”

Fright took a firm hold of Olivia and she returned to the window, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Someone help us! Help!”

“That’s not going to work.”

As soon as the words left Simon’s mouth, the mysterious footsteps returned and a figure appeared in the doorway, his clothes singed and his face darkened with soot. Regardless of his appearance, she knew exactly who it was.

“Dad?” Simon shouted.

“No one was supposed to be here.” His father swayed, eyes bleary and unfocused.

Simon reached out and grabbed him. “What do you mean?”

“No one was up here.”

Understanding dawned on Olivia. He did this. He was responsible. She stormed forward, shoving a stunned Simon aside, and rage drew her hand back. The sting of her palm as it connected with Simon’s father’s cheek felt like victory. “You son of a bitch.”

“Olivia!” Simon wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her away.

A crash jolted him from his stupor. “You two need to get out of here now!”

The roar of the fire intensified and an ear-splitting bang sent sparks showering down around them. Simon looked out and Olivia knew it was bad when he retreated inside the apartment and slammed the door.

“We can’t reach the stairs anymore,” he confirmed before turning his attention to his dad. “Why?”

“I wanted to show VDB they were vulnerable, able to hurt as much as the little guy, and it worked. They bled.”

Simon took a handful of shirt and yanked Mr. Greene closer. “This isn’t the first time?” he demanded, spit flying and teeth clenched.

“Don’t you dare judge me, son.” He flung Simon’s hands aside and his face flushed a deep red. “I did what I had to do.”

“You sabotaged my company and you put lives in danger.”

“Your company?” Mr. Greene’s eyes sparked with disbelief. “You had a business, a legacy, and you threw it away. For what? A thousand-dollar suit and a corporate noose?”

Simon’s shoulders hunched. “Is it wrong to dream big? You taught me that. Besides, isn’t dreaming big exactly what landed you in this mess you’re in?”

“You think that was a dream? It was desperation to keep my head above water and provide for you and your mother. Do you think Columbia was cheap?”

“Don’t.” Simon inched up to his dad. “Do not put this on me, or Mom.”

“No one was supposed to be here,” he repeated his statement from earlier.

“We’re trapped, Dad!”

The force of Simon’s words hit his father and he flinched, eyes darting around wildly. “The window?”

“No good.”

“I’ll go for help.” He pivoted, arm reaching for the door.

“No!”

Olivia watched in horror as Simon’s dad opened the door and it flew inwards, flames rushing into the room and snatching Mr. Greene in their grip. The blast knocked Simon off his feet and he landed hard on his back, his head bouncing on the wood. Tortured screams emitted from the fiery figure stumbling into the hall, but Olivia blocked them out, scrambling to Simon’s side.

“Simon!”

He didn’t answer and a sob clawed its way up her throat, causing her to cough intensely. The fire lapping at the open doorway inched closer, latching onto his pant leg and igniting.

“No, no, no,” she shrieked, using her hands to pat out the flames, vaguely aware of the blisters erupting on her skin. As soon as she could, she moved around to his shoulders and shook his motionless body. “Get up, dammit.”

She took hold of his arms and dragged him to the farthest bedroom of the apartment, ignoring the burning pain in her fingers. Between Simon’s silence and the cracking of the wood around her as it heated, her sanity ripped apart. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she cradled Simon’s head in her lap.

“Wake up, wake up!” she cried repeatedly.

When she moved to wipe at her stinging eyes, she noticed blood on her fingertips and her stomach rolled. The roof. They could get to her through the roof. She just had to stay alert, but already her eyes were growing heavy, her chest congested with soot. Olivia kept seeing the image of Mr. Greene as the flames devoured him. Doubling over, she retched, heaving out the smoke. It didn’t help. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs.

Gently laying Simon’s head on the ground, she scrambled to the window and tried again to open it. It wouldn’t budge. Frustrated, Olivia slammed her palm against the glass and froze. Break it, a voice screamed at her and she squeezed her hands into fists. It didn’t work, no matter how hard she pounded on the glass, the only thing that broke was the skin of her knuckles.

The hammer!

She kissed Simon’s temple, whimpering at the blood pooling under his head, and crawled on her belly to the front room, now completely enflamed, to retrieve the hammer. Returning to the window, she ducked away as she swung the tool at the glass, flinching at the ache that erupted on her burned skin. Pressing her face to the sweet, fresh air rolling in, she shouted.

“Help! Help me! I’m in here!”

A figure rounded the corner and Olivia couldn’t make out any details because of her puffy, swollen eyes.

“I can’t get in!” the man called up to her. “Fire department is almost here.”

Olivia glanced at the interior wall of the room she was in, shaking her head at the flames licking at the sheetrock. “It’ll be too late,” she whispered.

The man continued to shout, but Olivia retreated from the window. The fire was too close now. They didn’t have much time. Outside, the far off din of sirens barely penetrated the fog in her head. She worried it was too late, for her and Simon. A coughing fit seized her, wracking her whole body, and she recited the only prayer she knew.

“Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.” Another round of sobs and choking hit her. “The courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. And please, don’t take Simon from this world. He is too good.”

Bending, Olivia placed her ear next to Simon’s nose, relieved when she heard his labored breaths. At least he was alive, for now. Pressing her lips to his, she whispered, “I love you, Simon.”

Her eyelids grew heavy and she fought to keep them open. She had to stay awake, for Simon’s sake. Using the bottom of her sundress, she held the material lightly over Simon’s face, hoping it filtered the smoke.

The sirens sounded closer now and she leaned her head against the wall, never taking her eyes from the far side of the room, expecting the fire to rip the wood apart at any moment.

“Hurry,” she pleaded to the oncoming fire crew.