Olivia Young

––––––––

“SO, HOW ARE THINGS going, lady? Tell me the truth.”

“What do you mean, tell you the truth? Don’t I always do that? I’m shocked that you feel the need to say that part at all. Shocked and offended, my friend.”

Olivia spoke with a totally straight face. This was a specific talent of hers, the ability to bullshit with an infallible poker face. She considered it to be an essential weapon in any good lawyer’s arsenal. She managed to keep it until Caroline rolled her eyes dramatically, at which point Olivia couldn’t help but crack up. It was an eye roll she’d been seeing for what felt like all of her life. She felt the same burst of love she always felt for her best friend, something that had only grown deeper while the two of them shared this new happiness together.

“Seriously,” Caroline prodded, poking her in the arm, “tell me how it’s going? Having to spend all of this time with Nick, I mean. I know how much you hate the guy.”

“No, I don’t, actually.”

"Um, what?"

Olivia snorted in disbelief. Now there was no eye roll, but the look Olivia was getting was worse. It was pure scrutiny, and Olivia couldn't help blushing under the weight of it. She was well aware of how many times she'd made her dislike for Nick clear. She had no idea how she was supposed to explain going back on it now. She couldn't even really explain it to herself.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, “I don’t know. We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, that’s all.”

“Have you now?” Caroline grinned, a twitching grin that played at the corner of her mouth and made Olivia feel even more squirmy.

"Come off it; you know that we have. For your wedding, thank you very much."

“And your opinion of him just did a one-eighty, did it? Imagine that. I guess stranger things have happened.”

"I didn't do a one-eighty, Caroline. Nothing so dramatic as that. All I'm saying is that he's not so bad as I used to think. And speaking of which, I need to be off. I'm supposed to meet him in like, a half hour, and he doesn't love it when I keep him waiting."

"Sure," Caroline smirked again. Olivia could see that there were about a thousand things her friend wanted to say. She knew the look. She was only glad that she kept them to herself. Because, if pushed, Olivia would have been forced to admit that it wasn't precisely true, what she'd just said. It wasn't Nick who didn't like being kept waiting. It was her who didn't want to disappoint him, another thing she couldn't understand. She was looking forward to seeing him. So much so that she kissed Caroline on the cheek, said goodbye, and made her way hurriedly down to the bottom of the building and into a cab. She wished that she had time to stop by her place and freshen up before seeing him and then hated herself a little for caring. Which she didn't, she reminded herself. She didn't care at all, and she definitely didn't have any butterflies when she saw him sitting at the bar of the swanky restaurant he'd chosen for them to meet. Who cared if he was waiting for her and only her? She certainly didn't. When he looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with her, he smiled. It was a warm smile, and it made her insides melt a little, against her will. It seemed that, lately, there were a lot of things she felt when she was around Nick Oswald that weren't entirely within her control.

“Hey there. Look at you.”

“Look at me? There’s nothing special going on here.”

“I don’t know,” he smiled again, his eyes moving up and down her body in a gesture she was sure was unconscious, “I think you look especially nice today. Here, have a seat. I ordered us a bottle of wine.”

“Just to go over wedding details?”

“Sure, why not? We might as well have some fun while we’re at it, right?”

"Right," Olivia answered in as nonchalant a voice as she could manage. She was probably being an idiot, and she knew it, but that fluttery feeling was still in her, and it was growing. Her mind kept going back to the pantry, the feeling of him so close and yet completely off limits. It made her feel warm all over, and she shifted uncomfortably on her barstool. Nick watched her intently, his eyes full of an unreadable expression. The urge to ask him just what he thought he was looking at was strong and she bit her tongue to keep herself from saying anything. He poured her a liberal glass of red wine and looked pointedly at it, then at her.

"Come on; you can pick it up. I didn't poison it, I swear."

“I know that. I’m not an idiot, Nick.”

“No, you certainly aren’t. I just want to propose a toast, if that’s alright.”

“Sure,” she answered, flustered, “of course it is.”

She lifted her glass and allowed him to clink it with his own, then took a deep sip. She shut her eyes, savoring the feel of the wine inside of her mouth. It was a nice wine, an expensive one, and exactly the kind of thing she liked to drink. When she opened her eyes, Nick was still looking at her. She smiled uncertainly, and he grinned at her.

“I wanted to thank you, Olivia. I guess that’s what I meant by a toast. I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you.”

“Ha! What, plan a wedding? I don’t see why not. I was under the impression that you’ve been moonlighting as a secret wedding planner by night. Kind of like the tooth fairy or something, but for adults trying to plan major events.”

“Very funny. I’m serious. When Abel told me how quickly they wanted to have this thing go off, I–”

“I know,” she laughed, sipping her wine again and starting to feel comfortable for the first time, “it’s insane. Who wants to pull a wedding off in six weeks? That’s totally bonkers.”

“It is, that’s for sure. I have no disagreements there.”

“So then tell me, why’d you do it?” Olivia was careful not to look at him while she asked the question. She hadn’t known she was going to go there. She didn’t have the right to ask him that kind of thing. She didn’t have the right to ask him private questions at all. That wasn’t supposed to be the way they related to each other. They weren’t really supposed to be relating to each other at all.

"Why'd I do what?" Now it was him who wouldn't make eye contact, and unless she was very much mistaken, he was starting to blush a little.

“I think you know what I mean. Why’d you pay the tab for this whole thing? A wedding is a big deal, money wise. It always is. I can only imagine how much more it costs when you’re organizing it at such short notice. Why did you offer to pay the whole tab?”

“He’s my friend.”

“That’s it? He’s your friend?”

“Is that not enough?”

“It’s just not much of an answer, that’s all. At least not for what I’m thinking is a very large sum of money.”

“I don’t know that I can tell you.”

“That’s fine,” Olivia said quickly. She didn’t mean for it to come off defensively but she had a feeling that was the way it sounded. She stared straight in front of her like her life depended on it. She felt beyond foolish that she’d asked in the first place and she had no desire to make it worse by showing that she cared about his answer. When Nick put his glass down and laid his hand on her knee, she sucked in her breath. The skin underneath his touch instantly began to tingle.

“I don’t mean I don’t want to tell you. I mean I’m not sure how to. I don’t spend a lot of time talking about emotional shit. It’s hard for me to put it into words. What Abel means to me, I mean. It’s going to sound stupid.”

“It won’t, I promise. Not to me.”

"It's just that he's like a brother to me, you know? He always has been. I know people say that kind of thing all of the time, but for me, it's true. Sometimes I think he's the best part of me. Like, he's the thing that keeps me grounded when otherwise I'd have my head shoved so far up my own ass that I wouldn't ever be able to get it back out again."

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Thought you said it wasn’t going to sound stupid.”

“It doesn’t,” Olivia said gently, “I’m sorry. Please, go on.”

“He’s just done a lot for me. He’s always been there, and there’s nobody else in my life I can say that about. I want him to be happy. He’s got the dream, you know? People think that’s me, with the money and shit. It’s not. It’s him. He’s happy. Those two are so in love it’s not even funny. I want them to have a good start with all of that. Not all of us get to have it.”

“So you don’t, then?”

“Don’t?”

“Don’t think you’re going to have it?”

“I don’t know. When we’re little we all think we will, don’t we? I’m not so sure now. I don’t know that guys like me get that kind of ending.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that. We all deserve happy endings, Nick. All of us. Even if we’ve done stupid things. Even if we’ve allowed stupid things to be done to us in return.”

Olivia was horrified to find her eyes filling with tears. Speaking of stupid. She was the one being stupid now. It was crazy to think she could talk to a man like Nick about her past, her secrets. It was just that he seemed so vulnerable to her now. There was something in his eyes that made her think the two of them were different faces of the same coin.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I don’t mean anything.”

"I'm sorry, but that's bullshit. You mean something. I can see it in your eyes. You're upset. I'm not an idiot. I may not be the most sensitive guy in the world, but I'm not that dense."

"I didn't say you were an idiot. It's just... I had some trouble back in the day, okay? I allowed some stupid things to happen to me and for a long time, I didn't do anything about it. I'm not sure that I would have, either. If it hadn't been for Caroline."

“What did she–?”

"I picked the wrong kind of men, okay? Which is the understatement of the century, but it'll have to do. They were bad men. Men who liked to show how powerful they were with their fists. Caroline was the one who made me believe that I was worth more than that. It was when I put myself into my studies when I understood that I didn't need anybody but myself to be okay. She taught me how to be strong. I'm not going to lie, I'm kind of envious of you, actually."

"Of me? What do you mean? Why would you be envious of me?" There was genuine shock in Nick's voice, and Olivia felt a stab of regret that he would be so surprised. Had she really been so awful to him all of this time? Awful enough for him to be so surprised that she would pay him a compliment?

"Because you were the better friend here. You were the one who thought about doing all of this. I never–"

“Don’t do that to yourself, okay?”

“Don’t do what?” Olivia asked, clasping her glass tightly. She didn't like being told what to do. She liked less how delicate she felt with him now. She had worked very hard never to feel delicate again.

“Don’t beat yourself up. You’re too hard on yourself. I never realized it before. I figured I was the only one you were that hard on.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she laughed, “I’m hard on everyone and everything. Most of all myself.”

“I don’t think you need to be,” he answered softly, so quietly that she could hardly hear him above the din of the restaurant. The crowd had been picking up steadily while the two of them sat talking together. She hadn’t even noticed it until now. She had felt in her own world, just her and Nick, and nothing else mattered.

“Oh yeah? Why might that be?”

“Because. From where I’m sitting, you’re looking pretty great.”

Olivia's eyes shot up and met Nick's. The moment she did, she felt ten times drunker than the buzz she already had going from the wine. The heat hit her so full on that she couldn't breathe, and all of a sudden she wanted to be anywhere but sitting beside this man. There was too much power here, and if she stayed beside it too long, she was likely to get sucked in and not be able to make it back out again. It was like getting too close to the sun. She downed the rest of her second, or maybe third, glass of wine quickly. She struggled to keep from coughing and then stood up abruptly.

“Whoa there! Where are you going?” Nick stood, too, quickly enough that he almost knocked his glass over. Olivia took a step back, clutching her purse.

“I just realized how late it’s getting. I’ve got a very busy day tomorrow.”

“Olivia–”

"Seriously, super busy. I usually work weekends but the wedding is this weekend, so I have to make up all of that time in the next two days. I need to get home and get some sleep. That's all. I'm not leaving for anything else." She could have slapped herself for saying that part. It was a silly thing to say. Everything she was doing now seemed silly.

“Fine,” he said uncertainty, “that’s fine. I’ll just walk you out.”

“There’s really no need. It won't take long to get a cab. I can wait on my own. I’m a big girl.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’m still going to walk you out.”

Before Olivia could object, Nick linked arms with her and started to lead her out the door. Her heart thumped in her chest so that she could feel her pulse beating in her temples. He led her outside and asked the valet service to hail a cab, slipping them a hefty tip to sweeten the deal. Olivia shut her eyes and lifted her face up to the sky, allowing the cool, damp breeze to wash over her. It took away some of the heat from the blood rushing to the surface of her skin, and that was good. When she opened her eyes again and saw Nick’s face close above her own, however, the momentary relief vanished.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. She told herself she needed to move, to keep this from happening, but she couldn't make herself do it. She was rooted to the spot where she stood.

“I–I don’t know. I don’t have a fucking clue.”

His face dipped down, and then he was kissing her. It was firm but slow, tormentingly so. The tips of her fingers were practically vibrating. That's how strong her desire to touch him was. As if he was reading her mind, his hands moved up, hesitated, then moved gently up the length of her back. When they landed on her bare skin, they were trembling. He moaned a little and slipped his tongue inside of her mouth. She did touch him then, her hands on his chest, clutching his shirt. She touched him and felt like she was falling. She knew that she couldn't turn back now. Whatever her past thoughts about Nick, whatever this meant moving forward, she couldn't stop it anymore. She didn't want to stop it. Then, just like that, it was over. She could feel the breeze on her face again, only this time it didn't feel nearly so friendly.

“Nick?”

“I don’t think this is the best time for something like this.”

“Not the best time? What does that mean?”

"We've been drinking. You've been drinking. I don't want to be that guy. I've been that guy plenty of times. I don't want to be him again. I'll let you go get that sleep you were talking about. And I'll see you this weekend. Everything is going to be great."

He didn’t give her a chance for a rebuttal or even a response. He shoved his hands down low in his pockets, turned, and walked off past the valet and out of her sight. She shivered, hugging herself tightly. She told herself that he was right about it being the alcohol that had brought them together this way and nothing more. She told herself that over and over again and yet somehow, she couldn’t quite make herself believe it.