Chapter Four
Olivia wore a knee-length black cocktail dress, let her curls fall delicately around her shoulders, chose a bright red lipstick and slipped into a pair of conservative black pumps. That was the extent of her dressing up for the night.
She arrived at the Frost household with her heart in her hands and, when she knocked, Sophie opened the door and hugged her tightly.
“I was convinced you weren’t going to show. Did you leave Maya at your mom’s?” she asked, leading Olivia into the house with her hand held tightly. The house was teeming with neighbors and people she had grown up with, but who she had lost touch with.
Sophie’s parents greeted her with genuine affection and she was glad to see them after all these years. Olivia felt transformed to a different time. She felt like a teenager again with Mrs. Frost fussing over her and Mr. Frost making jokes about the weather and football, Sophie laughing loudly and Rufus absent from the scene. She couldn’t help wondering where he was.
She was on her second glass of champagne, discussing the crumbling state of affairs of the publishing industry with a man who used to once be too old to hold a conversation with when she saw Mrs. Frost’s eyes light up from across the room. She knew exactly why was. Mrs. Frost always had the same reaction when she laid eyes on her beloved son.
“Ah, there he is! The star,” the man Olivia had been talking to exclaimed loudly, as he rushed towards the door.
Rufus was standing at the living room door in a dark navy suit, adjusting the sparkling cufflinks on his wrists. Blonde strands of hair fell into his eyes as he looked up towards the approaching man, and his eyes fell on Olivia standing nearby.
She could feel her stomach churning, the nervousness building up. She had never seen him in a suit before, but he looked handsome, reliable and strong. Rufus smiled at the man and shook his hand before he was swarmed by everyone in the room, who circled around him to congratulate him on his success. He hadn’t been home in three years.
Olivia stood back, and Sophie joined her so she could watch her brother from a distance.
“He’s such a natural,” Sophie said, snapping Olivia out of her daydreams.
Rufus moved through the circle of people to walk over to his mother, to whom he gave a small kiss on the cheek. Even his mother blushed with delight and laughed. They were all glad to see him home.
Mr. Frost broke the buzz surrounding Rufus by declaring more drinks and some of his friends followed him to the bar, leaving Rufus standing and answering the questions that people were throwing at him. Everyone was eager to speak with him and find out what life was like as a national heartthrob.
Olivia finished the glass of champagne in her hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of her.
“Can we pretend to be having a conversation?” Rufus asked, suddenly appearing beside her. Olivia jerked her head to look at him, noticing now that Sophie had been absorbed into the crowd while Rufus had managed to make a smooth exit.
“A conversation about what?” Olivia asked, straightening up. She hoped she didn’t sound as nervous as she actually felt.
“Anything. I just can’t answer any more questions on the thread count of my bedsheets and the number of stylists I hire for award ceremonies,” Rufus said, and Olivia laughed loudly.
“Exactly. Pretend you’re having fun. In fact, come a little closer so that it looks like we’re having an intimate conversation that nobody should interrupt,” he added, the dimple on his cheek showing again.
Olivia smiled, as warmly as she could, and took a few steps towards him. Rufus was as tall as ever, his small green eyes sparkling like beads as he looked down at her. His shirt was immaculate, white and looked new. His suit was hand-tailored, Olivia could tell.
“How have you been, Olivia?” he asked suddenly, after several seconds of silence. She stared into his eyes, remembering the similar way he had spoken to her that night at the frat party.
“I’ve been well. I know you’ve been good. I’ve read the interviews and watched your games,” she said, playing with her fingers. Now that her drink was finished, she had no other way of occupying her hands. Rufus laughed at that, his dimple deepening in his cheek.
“You’re embarrassing me. The least I could have expected from my hometown was a warm friendly welcome, not this hero worship,” he said, sipping from his glass. Olivia raised an eyebrow and shook her head.
“You shouldn’t have expected anything different, Rufus. It was the same when you were younger, too. This town feels as if you belong to all of them, that they all worked together in raising you.” Olivia flicked a few curls behind her shoulder. He was watching her intently, and his attention hadn’t once wavered from her face. But then Rufus always looked at people like that, like he was giving them his full attention.
“You’re probably right,” he said and looked away at the crowd of people at the other end of the room, some of whom were still throwing glances his way.
“I hear you’re working in a bookshop now?” Rufus asked, and she nodded in response.
“It pays the bills. Plus I get to be surrounded by books all the time. Couldn’t ask for more,” she said and noticed the way he looked at her like he pitied her.
“What about Craig?” he asked, and Olivia breathed in deeply.
“That ended as soon as it started,” she said, swinging her face away from him. She didn’t want him to detect anything suspicious. He should never find out that she had spent the night with Craig because she was trying to get over Rufus.
“I wish Sophie had told me sooner about your situation. I would have liked to help,” Rufus said, and she jerked her head to look at him again, her gray eyes narrowed on him now.
“Why?” she blurted out, offended that he was offering her monetary assistance.
“Because I’ve known you all your life and I care about what happens to you,” he said. Olivia rolled her eyes and started walking away from him. She heard his footsteps behind her as she stepped out of the living room’s doors into the backyard, by the pool. Rufus had followed her, even though she was hoping he wouldn’t.
“Olivia,” he called out to her softly, and she whipped around to look at him.
“All everyone does, especially Sophie, and now you, is pity me. I don’t need your pity, Rufus!” She was speaking through gritted teeth now. She didn’t know what she had done to create this impression that Sophie and he had of her. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her, she wanted him to see her as a whole person, not a broken human being.
“You’re a young mother, Olivia…” he began to say, but she interrupted him.
“So I must be pitied? Does my happiness not count? Has it occurred to either of you that maybe this is what I want?” She had raised her voice slightly as she spoke now. She watched as Rufus threw a look towards the house, but everyone inside seemed to be occupied, thankfully.
“Look, I don’t know what Sophie thinks or has said to you. We’re not ganging up on you if that’s what you think. I just wanted to help. But if you don’t need it, I’m happy to step back.” He was still speaking softly, but Olivia’s shoulders shook in distress.
Her nostrils were flaring. How could this have happened? When did Rufus start pitying her?
“Olivia…” He said her name again and took a few steps towards her. Her face was softening already, just hearing his voice, hearing her name in his mouth.
“I’m sorry if I offended you.” He spoke in a whisper, like that night at the frat party, and Olivia’s heart was racing again.
“Not everything can simply be bought, you know,” she said and brushed past him. Rufus had grabbed her hand and slowly turned her around to face him. Her breath was caught in her throat. What was he doing to her?
“I know. I forget that sometimes. I’m sorry.” He was still whispering as he pulled her towards him.
“I always regretted not getting a chance to say goodbye to you after that night.” Rufus was staring into her eyes as she inched closer to him. Her hand was still in his, dropped to his side. She could see what he was doing. He was charming her. He had that twinkle in his eyes which conveyed his success. This is how he did it to all those women, and Olivia felt like just another one of those women who was falling for it, again.
“I didn’t think you had any recollection of that night,” she said, biting down on her lip. One of the biggest questions she had had since then had finally been answered. Rufus’ face was very close to hers. Olivia looked into the house again. They were at the edge of the pool and nobody seemed to be looking out.
“Of course I remembered everything. It wasn’t just some one-night stand,” he said, and gently brushed his lips against her cheek.
Olivia looked at him like he was burning her. She didn’t want to fall for it again. It would take a decade for her to get over him if it happened again. But she couldn’t physically struggle against him, he had paralyzed her.
“What was it then, Rufus? It felt an awful lot like a one-night stand.” She was whispering too and he smiled suddenly.
He grabbed her hand tightly and before she knew what he was doing, he swirled her around like they were dancing, so that she finally landed with her hands on his chest. Olivia felt dizzy, but Rufus was laughing.
“I can prove to you that it wasn’t,” he said, and she let go of him, backing away from him in fright. What was he saying? What did he know?
Rufus continued smiling.
“I hope you don’t have to go home early tonight, Olivia,” he said and started walking away from her, back into the house, leaving her standing by the pool. Her heart was racing as she watched his smiling face disappear back into the house. Through the window, she saw him join a group of chattering people. Someone passed him another glass of champagne and he took a small sip from it.
Olivia gulped, unable to keep her nervousness at bay anymore. She knew what she had to do; she needed to get out of there as fast as possible. She would have to make up some excuse, come up with something. She couldn’t possibly let it happen again, no matter how much she wanted it.
Rufus’ hands on her, his lips grazing her cheek, the way he looked into her eyes: they had all weakened her, Olivia was losing her resolve. The more she looked at him, through the window, the more she knew she had to leave.
The way he stood with a glass in his hand and the other hand pushed into the pocket of his beautiful navy suit, the way his short blonde hair shimmered under the chandelier of the living room, the broadness of his shoulders, the tapering waist, the rigid strong thighs, those large hands. Rufus Frost was the perfect specimen of the male species and he had just suggested something that would drive her insane for the rest of her life. It couldn’t happen again. She had to leave.