Olivia

I stared at the picture. I’d made coffee, done my laundry, and everything I could to stop myself from going back to add salt to my wound.

But here I was.

Xavier had a drink in his hand, and the woman—girl—was pulling him close to her, looking like she was about to kiss him.

Son of a bitch.

Momma was right to be worried. I remembered that I’d asked him if he cheated, and he’d said no. Better to just end things.

Was this what he meant? While I felt a lot more than I wanted to let on for knowing him such a short time, I wasn’t sure I’d call this a relationship, either.

But it sure as hell felt like one, and damn it, he’d treated it like one. So had I.

The tabloid site I’d been reading—okay, obsessing—said the cruise ended today. When? Would he call me?

It was only 11:30 in the morning. How would I manage for the rest of the day?

Why would he do this to me?

Was he really this bad?

Why was I so insane?

All these things went through my head, swirling the like tornadoes you saw storm chasers filming. Every little tidbit, every piece of trash—it all went into that tornado and became part of the oncoming storm.

He was a hell of a con man.

He just didn’t want to be with me.

I was stupid, and I’d been taken in.

The tears came again, and I dashed angrily at my face. I was tired of crying over lying, faithless men. Royce had taken ten years from me and tossed it back, making sure to tell me how everything I’d done wasn’t good enough. From the time we got engaged, I was always told that I needed to try harder, try more, do better, give more.

It was never enough.

I’d know Xavier maybe a month? And he’d taken what I freely gave, said things that implied promise, implied future, and then at the first chance, jets off and starts canoodling women my momma would call a hussy on a good day.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t fair to the girl I’d seen. She probably didn’t know that Xavier was dipping his toe—and other things—into something with another woman. I’m sure he didn’t tell her.

You know, in the interest of keeping things ‘casual’.

I was working myself into a snit of royal proportions. I knew it, knew it wouldn’t do me any good, but I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

Fuck this.

I thought it, and those were words I usually didn’t use.

I tried it aloud. “Fuck this.”

It sounded harsh and angry in the silence of my home. The home I’d worked to build, design, and make my own. For what I thought was my future. And then when I found it wasn’t, I’d invited someone in who might have a place in that future.

But he’d spurned me.

“Fuck this,” I said again. I took a deep breath, and screamed at the top of my lungs, “FUCK! THIS!”

The words seemed to echo round and round the empty, lifeless house like the growing, growling tornado in my head.

From my bedroom, I heard my phone ringing. Probably Momma checking in, but it would be worse if I ignored her.

I padded to my room, and when I turned it over and looked at the caller ID, my heart leaped up into my throat right before it plummeted to the floor.

It was Xavier.

I almost hit the green button, but my finger hesitated. I debated, the tornado raging, and then the ringing stopped.

I’d missed him.

But hadn’t I wanted to?

While I pondered this, the phone rang again. It was him again.

Did I want to talk to him? I couldn’t even think straight. And did I care what he had to say? What was that saying? ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’? That picture had been. What could he say to counter the thousand words I’d already heard in my head?

Thanks to the tornado, those words were now on repeat status.

Because I wasn’t enough.

I’d never been enough.

There was no room in his life for someone like me, and there would always be women like that, women with more, younger, better in ways I couldn’t even compete with.

I let the phone ring again.

When the ringer stopped, I turned it down and set the phone down on my bedside table.

I would go and work on something—anything. Anything to take my mind off this, off this rebound gone so wrong.

That’s what I would do. I’d Google How to survive your rebound, and I would work on healing myself.

Alone. With no man.

Because fuck this.

Xavier

She wasn’t answering. She was pissed. I didn’t blame her. I didn’t leave a message because if she was pissed, I needed to see her.

“We’re going to Nashville,” I told the pilot. He’d been worried, leaving several messages on my phone. He’d laughed when I told him what happened.

If he only knew.

“We can leave right away,” he said.

“Do it.”

I strode into the cabin and tossed myself into my chair. I felt gross. I needed a shower. I’d had a change of clothing on the boat, but I’d changed back into my own things before I left. I wanted nothing to do with the cruise.

Marcus wasn’t with me. Apparently, he and Kristine had gotten married early this morning at sunrise. The captain had performed the wedding. He told me later and asked if I could do without him for a week or so. I told him to take two.

He beamed with such happiness that he’d not even asked me anything about myself. That was fine. It wasn’t always all about me, which I needed reminding of from time to time. I did tell him to call when they were ready to come back, and I’d send the plane. It wasn’t his fault I was in this shit fest.

It was my own for not reading details. Much as I wanted to blame him. To blame anyone else.

But the guy was deep in the love thing, and whether it was I was getting old, or soft, or both, I couldn’t fault him for it.

I sat in the seat and closed my eyes. For the first time since I’d stepped foot on the damn boat, I could relax. At least here, I knew that no one would bother me.

The only good thing about the damn boat was that there were no pictures, no media. There’d been a few paparazzi hanging around when we docked, but I’d called my car service before we got back and I hustled my ass to the car with glasses on and head down.

I’d also managed to escape the roving herd of younger women.

Thank God. The paps would have gone nuts over pics of that.

A little sleep would be a good thing. I needed it. Something told me that this was going to be a tough reunion.

Byrne woke me with a gentle touch on the shoulder. He knew that I didn’t like to be startled awake. Long years of waking up to shit made my fists fly first, with questions later. So I warned the people who might have to wake me to be low key.

“We’re almost there, Xavier. You might want to…er…tidy yourself up.”

“I showered this morning,” I protested, stretching.

“Well, you look a little worse for wear.”

“It’s because I’m stressed,” I groused. “Damn it.” But I went to the restroom and did what I could. I looked like someone who was worried and hadn’t slept well for a couple of days.

Which is exactly what I was.

When I came out, Byrne said, “I arranged for a car. It’s waiting for you now.”

“Good. Thanks, man. You’re the best, as always.”

He smiled. “I hope it goes well today.”

He didn’t know what was up, but he’d been working for me long enough to know that something was.

“You and me both.”

In the car, I gave the address to the driver and sat tensely tapping my fingers on my leg as we drove to Olivia’s house. What was I going to say? Big apologies weren’t my style. Particularly when it wasn’t my fault—no. I stopped myself. If there was a fault, it was mine for not paying fucking attention. I needed to own my shit.

As the car stopped outside her house, I didn’t wait for the driver but flung the door open and bounded up to the door.

Ringing the doorbell, I send up a prayer—to who or what, I didn’t know—that I would say the right thing. Just not fuck it up more.

She opened the door.

“Olivia, can I come in?”

She looked me up and down, and I looked at her as she did so.

She looked terrible. I could tell that she’d been crying.

It was like a knife in the heart.

When was the last time I’d seen a woman cry over me? Despite what people thought, I was honest about my casual involvement. Like I’d told Olivia, it made for some bitchy episodes at times, but there weren’t usually tears.

There’d been tears here, and she was plainly still angry.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice sounded lower than normal, and a little hoarse. “Come in.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned, expecting me to follow.

Which I did, shutting the door.

“In here,” she said, stopping and gesturing to a room.

“Thanks,” I said. “I missed you.”

Her eyebrow—just one—went up, and she crossed her arms.

“Really?”

“Yes. Can I tell you what happened? I’m sorry to seem like a dick. Unlike before, this was not through me being a dumbass.”

She walked past me and sat down in a chair. She didn’t offer me anything or invite me in further, but I sat down across from her.

“Please tell me what happened. I was worried about you.”

Her face looked pissed in spite of her words. But I’d been right. She was worried.

“When I made arrangements to do this cruise, I thought it was a one-night thing. No biggie, go sail around and come back in after dinner and a show. But I was wrong. I didn’t bother reading all the details, and missed the fact that it was a weekend thing entirely.”

“And you couldn’t call?”

“No, they took all our phones. I tried. I asked the captain, and the crew, and went through the whole boat. It was on lockdown.”

“So no pictures or anything?”

Why did her voice sound so weird?

“No. Marcus asked Kristine to marry him, and they got married this morning, though. That’s positive.”

“So what did you do all weekend?”

“Drank sparkling water and tried to stay low key. I got a couple of recommendations for a new manager, talked to some old friends, nothing big.”

“Nothing else?”

Why did I feel like this was an interrogation?

“Other than miss you and feel like I was counting the minutes until the fucking thing was over? No.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you asking me all this shit, and talking like this? I haven’t done anything wrong, Olivia. I fucked up in not knowing what was going on, but I did what I could to try and get out of the situation, and when I couldn’t, I made the best of it.”

Whatever I’d said made her shoot out of the chair, and head over to the desk that had an open laptop on it. She bent over it, looking for something.

“Made the best of it, did you? You mean like this?”

She turned it around, and I saw a full-screen picture of the drunken girl on my lap pulling my face towards her ample cleavage.

Oh, hell.

“There weren’t supposed to be any pictures!” I said. This was frustrating as fuck.

Then I saw Olivia’s face.

Oh, fuck.

Olivia

Did he really just say that? Nothing about how this was all a bunch of trash—no, it was about there weren’t supposed to be pictures.

I turned around, trying to stay calm. It was Royce all over again, although this felt as though it had more bite. The viciousness of the bite was upfront, whereas Royce ate a little at a time until he brought me down to the bone.

Bastards, both of them.

Facing him, I was determined not to go all banshee. “What is it you’re more upset about? That there were pictures, or that I saw them?”

His answer was immediate. “Both, because they make it look like there was something to this, and it didn’t mean shit!”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Look, I understand how this looks. I also get that part of this is my fault, because I was a weasel initially, and I didn’t do what I said I would. Will you let me show you that this isn’t a big deal? Just give me ten minutes.”

I wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him.

What the hell? He was already here, and it was only ten minutes.

“You have ten minutes.”

“Will you sit down with me?”

I sat across from him and waited.

He scrolled through his phone. Then he hit a number and put the phone on speaker.

“X! Hey, where’d you run off to? I was going to ask you to lunch to talk a little more shop,” a woman’s cheerful voice answered.

“Hey, Jazmine, I’m sorry. I had some things that couldn’t wait. Let’s make a date the next time I’m out there, or you’re in NYC.”

“It’s on. You have some interesting ideas. So why the call?”

“I just saw some pics from the boat.”

“What? There weren’t supposed to be any!” Now she sounded mad.

“No shit. They had one of me when you abandoned me Saturday night,” he looked at me as he spoke.

She laughed. “I only abandoned you to find security. I’m sorry though if they have a photo of you with that chick. She was drunk and silly. She didn’t bother you again, did she?”

“No, I hid in my cabin after that.”

“Smart move. You see any of me?”

“Only from you working Friday night, but you might want to keep an eye out. It looks like whoever took these are looking for a money shot—they’re all couples.”

“Oh, well no worries. I didn’t even have the accidental meeting you did,” Jazmine chuckled. “I’m going to hold you to that date! Thanks for the heads up.”

“You’re welcome. Let me know when you’re in town.”

He hit the end button. Then he looked at me again. “I was sitting on that couch, talking with Jazmine. Then the girl plopped herself in my lap, and I didn’t want to shove her away from me. I was trying to figure out how to get rid of her nicely when Jaz came back with a couple of crew who took her away.”

“Why was it you couldn’t just push her off your lap?” I couldn’t get over this part. He was a poor victim?

“Because I shove someone, and they fall on their ass because they are drunk, and I get sued for assault. That’s how it goes. This girl was young, drunk, and I didn’t want to be an asshole, plus I don’t need any legal troubles. It meant nothing, Olivia! I’ve done nothing wrong other than not read. I made a mistake, and I am so sorry if I hurt your feelings in the process. I want to make this right, but I’m not sure what it is you are looking for here.”

I filed away that he got as mad as I did, but was willing to talk it out, even if it meant an argument.

We stared at one another for a few minutes. Then I sighed and sagged back into my chair.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I am making a mountain out of a molehill. I’m sorry, Xavier. Thank you for putting up with my questions.”

He waited, and then got up and pulled me into his embrace. “I get it. I really do. You don’t know me really well, and this shit is fair game for questions. But thank you for letting me explain.” He tipped my chin up so that he could look into my eyes. “I’m really sorry. I knew you’d be worried, and I felt bad enough about that. I felt bad because I’d already stood you up once.”

“You did, but I think you’ve made up that first time.”

“Only the first time?” Now he smiled.

“Well, this does seem to become a pattern. And I had plans for this weekend for us,” I added. I was so relieved, and at the same time, I was…I didn’t know. Off balance? Definitely.

“Really? What would those be?”

“You were going to get to meet my mother.”

“What?” His jaw dropped.

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t warn me?”

“There’s no warning that will you help you with Momma.”

He opened his mouth, then stopped, thinking. “So she knows I stood you up again?”

I nodded.

“Oh, shit. She hates me now?”

I hesitated, not sure how to put it nicely.

“What’s your mom doing today?”

“Um, I don’t know? Why?”

“Call her and ask her to meet you for dinner.”

“What? When? This really won’t be enough time for her, and I need some time to get ready.”

“Nope. Call her and tell her you’d like her to meet us at Monell’s.”

I stopped, caught by the fact that he knew one of our restaurants. “You’ve been to Monell’s?”

“No, but two different people mentioned it to me this weekend as worth going to, so I figure it’s a good call.”

“They do family dining there. We’ll end up sitting next to strangers.”

“That’s fine. Less chance your mom will brain me.”

I just stared. He was in earnest. I shrugged. “Okay. Your funeral.”

But secretly, I was delighted he was willing to take on my mom.

“Momma?”

“How are you, honey?”

“I’m good. Xavier is here. He—”

“Did he come back with flowers and an overly extravagant present?” She shot at me.

“No, but—”

“There are no buts here, Olivia Anne. A man needs to apologize when he makes a mistake.”

“He did.”

“Satisfactorily?”

“Well, you can see for yourself.”

“What does that mean?”

“He wants you—and Lloyd—to join us at Monell’s.”

I could hear the wheels turning. “Fine. When?”

“Say an hour and a half? I’m not dressed.”

“Well, don’t delay. Who knows how long we’ll have to wait.”

“Okay, bye Momma.”

She hung up without a word.

“Did you hear any of that?”

“Yeah,” he grimaced. “Your mom is a hardass, isn’t she?”

“In the best way,” I said.

“No reservations at this place?”

“No. They are first come, first serve. You’ll love it if you love southern food.”

“Well, okay. What do we do now?”

“I need to get ready.”

He looked me up and down. “You look good.”

“Trust me on this, this is one of the things I just need to do. I don’t just roll out when I’m with my mother.”

Xavier held up his hands. “Peace. I don’t want to even think about arguing anymore. Tell me the truth, Olivia. Are we okay?”

I stepped closer to him and put my arms around him, enjoying that my head felt right against his chest. His heart beat softly in my ear.

“We are,” I said.

He sighed. “Thank God.”

Xavier

I held her, wrapped my arms around her, and enjoyed the feel of hers around me—willingly, which was a big step from where she was when she let me in.

It was a good thing that she’d let me explain. So many of my exes would have been throwing shit and demanding things. Usually from a store that started with Harry and ended with Winston. Olivia didn’t do that.

Again, this must be what it was like to be normal. To be with someone who didn’t live in the sideways world that I did.

I loved it.

Olivia let go of me. “I really do need to go shower,” she said, and she reached up and kissed me. “Make yourself at home. There’s coffee and stuff in the fridge.”

She left. I’d had a moment where I thought about asking her to let me join her, but I didn’t want to upset things. I couldn’t tell why I thought it might, but something warned me to take it slow right now.

Although thinking about her worry over meeting with her mother, maybe I needed to clean up a little.

I headed for where I heard water running. She was already in the shower. I walked into her room, enjoying the smell that was uniquely hers. I’d seen her spray some kind of body spray on herself when we were in San Francisco. This must be it because it was all over this room.

The bathroom door was open, and I poked my head in, determined not to look at the shower where I knew she stood naked, and probably soapy and…stop it!

“Olivia?”

She yelped. “Holy hell, Xavier, you scared the life off of me!”

“I’m sorry,” I said to the back wall, still ignoring the shower. “I just wondered if you had anything I could use to clean up a little. I got a look at myself, and I’m a little rough.

The shower door opened and Olivia’s head appeared. “If you look on that vanity over there—” she pointed at the one furthest from me—”There’s still some of Royce’s stuff. I know it’s not ideal, but it’s here, and it probably won’t have his stupid cooties.”

I burst out laughing, not only because I couldn’t believe she’d just used the word ‘cooties’ but because I was so relieved. I hadn’t realized how stressed I was until I talked to her. Until I felt we were back on normal ground.

We wouldn’t be that, in my head, until we were together again, and alone. Until we were able to speak the physical language that we spoke—there were no lies when you were naked with another person. I’d learned that the hard way, both with my own lack of telling the truth and with some of the woman I’d dated.

The lack of transparency always showed.

Part of me wondered if I was putting too much on this brand new thing via sex, but sex was important, and it was so good with Olivia, for both of us, that I didn’t think so.

I heard the water stop, and I left the bathroom. I could get cleaned up, but I didn’t want to crowd her.

“I’ll wait until you’re done in here,” I said, ducking back out.

The living room seemed the safest place at the moment.

Twenty minutes later, Olivia came out, her hair still wet. “You can come in if you like. I’m going to be a bit longer, but you can have a little privacy.”

I followed her in. She sat at a little vanity that was in the room. I slowly walked back to the bathroom, watching her brush her hair.

It wasn’t long, but I loved watching her hands move back and forth as she did whatever it was women did when doing their hair.

I’d always just washed mine and tossed some gel in it and called it a day.

Olivia smiled at me in the mirror. “I’m moving it along, I promise. Go on, it’s all yours.” The brush in her hand waved at the bathroom.

When I’d finished, I looked in the mirror. “Good as it’s gonna get, son. Drop the swears and don’t be a dick tonight.”

Then I went to join Olivia.

When we got to the restaurant, I looked around. This was nice, and the fish in the koi pond were great.

I’d always thought that only really well-off people had koi ponds. A leftover from my assumptions as a kid. But I loved them and loved watching the fish. If I didn’t travel so much or live in an apartment building, I’d love to have a koi pond.

“We’re here first,” Olivia scanned the place. “I’ll go and put our names on the list.”

I waited as she ran lightly up the steps to the door.

“It’s a little while,” she said when she came back. “You want to sit down while we wait?”

“No, I’ve been sitting too much today,” I said. “I love koi ponds.” The fish were huge and colorful, and they were hovering around where we stood.

“Olivia,” a voice said behind us.

“Hey, Momma,” Olivia answered, smiling, as she gave the woman, who was small, well-dressed and glaring a hug.