Chapter Ten
Sabrina drove like a woman on a mission, stopping only once on the six-hour drive to San Francisco. She had it all planned out. She’d say she had to speak to Olivia about a large donation on behalf of Claire Jordan, yup, she went there, dropping her friend’s famous name, and then she’d get into Olivia’s office and have a calm rational talk. She’d tell her Logan had been her friend for quite some time and that she was also close with his sister, Mad. She’d tell her all the gossip surrounding Sabrina and Logan was just that and her lawyer was on it. She’d tell her to give Logan a second chance because he deserved it. He was a great guy.
Everything went very smoothly on the drive, which reassured Sabrina she was following the right path. She hit very little traffic, and she found a parking garage not far from the Slater Foundation.
Once in the building, she took the elevator to the fourth floor, went into the waiting area, and announced the purpose of her visit to the receptionist, a woman in her fifties with her black hair in a bob. The woman told her Olivia was in a meeting and she’d need to wait.
Sabrina took a seat, flipping through a magazine, hyperaware of sounds from the nearby main office. Half an hour passed. It was four thirty. This seemed like the kind of job where people left at five, especially on a Friday.
Sabrina called over to the receptionist. “Could you please tell Olivia I need to see her? I can’t stay much longer.” Not true, she had nowhere to go, but she had to talk to Olivia today. Logan had said he was meeting Olivia for dinner tonight, and Sabrina wanted the problem to be fixed for him before then.
The receptionist checked her computer and looked up. “I’m sorry. Ms. Slater has the afternoon blocked off now. I could take a message, or we could arrange for something on Monday.”
“I’m only in town until Sunday morning. I’ll wait. Please let me know as soon as she’s available.”
She returned to her magazine, her only plan to catch Olivia on her way out, though she’d really prefer the privacy of Olivia’s office for this conversation. She knew what Olivia looked like from the Slater Foundation website. She was beautiful with glossy long black hair, blue eyes, and flawless creamy skin. Just the kind of gorgeous woman Logan would want. As much as Sabrina wished it weren’t true, her experience was that men were attracted first and foremost to looks. The biological underpinnings of the attraction for a fertile mate put aside, Sabrina thought it sucked. There were many wonderful intelligent loving women who would make excellent partners that were just passed by. Not that she was bitter. Much.
She pulled out her phone. No news from the lawyer or Claire, a few more voicemail messages on her office line. She was almost afraid to listen. If she lost more clients…nope, not going there. She’d wait to check on work after she finished here. One crisis at a time.
The receptionist left the front desk, grabbed a large plastic tag with a key, probably the key to the ladies’ room out in the hallway, and left the office.
Sabrina shot out of her seat and dashed through the door to the main office. She slowed down a little, striding through like she belonged there, passing lots of offices along the periphery and rows of cubicles in the center. She figured Olivia, as the director, had the big corner office.
She could hardly believe it when she reached the corner office with Olivia’s nameplate in gold outside it. Not a single person had batted an eye at her. The door was shut. Should she knock or just walk in? She glanced around at the busy staff. If she knocked, it might draw attention to the fact that she didn’t belong. On the other hand, if she didn’t knock, Olivia might be startled and loudly ask, “Who are you?”
She knocked softly. No answer.
Now or never. She quietly opened the door and shut it behind her, stepping into a large office with a modern light-toned wood and metal desk with a white leather executive chair, two white leather guest chairs, and, in the far corner, a round table with more chairs, but no Olivia. Hmm…maybe she was in a meeting room somewhere.
Sabrina took a seat in one of the chairs across from Olivia’s desk. Eventually, she’d have to return here. No way Sabrina was walking into a crowded meeting room.
A bump and a soft laugh alerted her she was not alone. She looked around, spotting an adjacent door. Maybe Olivia had a private bathroom in her office. Nice perk.
The door sprang open. Olivia walked out laughing, her color high, her black hair mussed. She was busy tucking in her pink blouse, looking up at a man, a handsome Indian man, whose white shirt was completely unbuttoned. His belt hung open, the top button of his dress pants undone. Holy shit!
He buttoned his pants and did the belt. His eyes collided with Sabrina’s. “Uh, we have company,” the man said with a thick accent to Olivia.
Olivia finally noticed her and shrieked, “Who are you, and what’re you doing in my office?”
Sabrina leapt out of her seat. “I’m Sabrina, Logan Campbell’s friend. Who’s that?”
“Logan sent you to barge in and spy on me?” Olivia barked.
Sabrina stared at the man. He buttoned his shirt as he walked toward the door, where he stopped to put his dress shoes on. “Later, Livvie,” he said and made a quick exit.
Sabrina turned back to Olivia, righteous indignation filling her. “Logan doesn’t know I’m here. I came here today to ask you to forgive him, to tell you we really are just friends, and you shouldn’t listen to the gossip, but now…I can hardly believe what I’m seeing here.”
Olivia scowled. “You can’t just barge into my office. I’m calling security.” She rushed toward her desk.
“Wait! I just came here to help. I’ll go.”
“Hold on.” Olivia studied Sabrina for a moment before wagging her finger. “I remember you now from all those gossip sites. The Hollywood Love Guru. Go find your own man.”
Sabrina clenched her teeth. Should she tell Logan what she’d seen? It would break his heart. But she couldn’t just let him move cross-country for a woman who didn’t deserve him!
Olivia pulled a brush from her desk drawer and brushed out her hair. “I’m seeing Logan for dinner tonight, so you didn’t need to come by after all. Goodbye.”
“Do you want to be with Logan or with that man?” She gestured toward the door where the guy had just left.
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Anil has an arranged marriage this summer, a merger of two very wealthy families. He’s a friend.”
How stupid did she think Sabrina was? They were obviously hooking up. And then it all made sense. “No wonder you were so jealous of Logan having a woman friend. Because you were guilty of cheating. People always harp on the thing they’re most guilty of.”
Olivia tossed her brush in the desk drawer, looking mildly irritated but otherwise too self-satisfied to care about Sabrina. “Look, I ended it with Anil. That was just our goodbye.”
Oh, hell no! “Logan wanted to move out here for a committed future with you, and you’re cheating on him all this time, leading him on?”
“I wasn’t cheating. He’s not here yet, is he?”
“But you have a long-distance relationship.”
Olivia flopped down in her desk chair. “Whatever! I don’t have to explain myself to you!”
Sabrina quickly put the pieces together. “You played him. You used Logan to put pressure on Anil, and it didn’t work. Anil’s still going through with his arranged marriage.”
Olivia leapt from her seat. “Fuck Anil and fuck you!”
Sabrina whirled and rushed for the door. This was all kinds of wrong. Logan deserved so much better than this manipulative bitch. She’d just reached the door when Olivia threw out her last jab.
“If you tell Logan about Anil, I’ll deny it. It’ll be my word against yours!”
Sabrina turned, opening her mouth to inform her she most certainly would be telling Logan, when Olivia went on in a much calmer voice.
“Logan proposed to me in college. Circumstances weren’t right then; now they are. So be a good friend to him and keep your mouth shut.”
Sabrina suppressed her shock. He’d proposed? But he’d told Sabrina it was hard for him to imagine committing to forever when the odds were stacked against it working out. Was Olivia the reason he felt that way? Did Olivia want to marry Logan to rub it in Anil’s face?
Olivia spoke up. “You can go now.”
Sabrina just stood there, taking in this beautiful woman who was a manipulative cheating liar. A terrible partner for Logan.
Olivia picked up the phone on her desk. “I’m calling security.”
Sabrina left without another word.
She stepped outside, thought about calling Logan and telling him everything she’d just witnessed, and then quickly decided she needed to tell him in person. It was a delicate situation that had to be handled with great care. Logan was staying at Claire’s house, so she texted Claire for the address. Definitely better for Sabrina to just show up than to tell him they needed to talk and have him worry until she reached him. All she had to do was get to him before he left for dinner with Olivia.
A few minutes later, she was on her way with Claire’s blessing. “Go get him!”
~ ~ ~
Logan drove north to Claire’s beachfront home, a surprisingly modest four-bedroom Cape Cod-style home worth millions purely for its location. He’d taken Claire up on her offer to stay there mostly because she’d asked him to look in on it and make sure everything was in order. She had a caretaker, who stopped by twice a month, but she wanted him to give her the real scoop. He suspected she just wanted to take care of him. Ever since she’d married his brother Jake, she fussed over the rest of them. When he’d arrived yesterday, he’d discovered the caretaker had fully stocked the refrigerator for him, laid fresh towels out, and made up every single bedroom with supersoft gazillion-thread-count sheets. He’d taken the king-size bed in the master bedroom when he’d arrived last night and couldn’t deny he relaxed more at Claire’s house than he would have at a hotel.
He pressed the code for the metal gate and pulled into the driveway. The security here wasn’t as tight as he’d thought it would be. There was a waist-high brick wall around the street side of the property with the metal gate, but a determined Claire Jordan fan could easily scale it or approach from the private beach and climb up the back deck. Of course, there were security cameras, and Claire normally stayed there with her bodyguard in the nearby guest cottage on the property.
He let himself in the front door with the security code, stepping into the bright open-plan first floor. The great room with high ceilings, white walls, and light hardwood floors was the main living space, with the kitchen just beyond it. Colorful geometric area rugs defined two sitting areas and a dining area. The beige sofas and chairs held bright colored throw pillows. It was all very cozy, not sleek and glam like he’d expected.
He made his way through the great room to the gourmet kitchen with its stainless steel appliances, white cabinets, and light tan granite countertops and set his jacket and tie over the back of one of the wrought-iron swivel stools at the center island, leaving his laptop on the island counter. He snagged a bottled water from the refrigerator and took a long drink. He’d filled Ben in on Elias’s generous offer and stipulations on the drive up. Ben had been thrilled, of course, exclaiming loudly for several minutes about the amazing news.
Now there was nothing to do but celebrate. Claire had left a bottle of champagne in the fridge with a note that said For your celebration. Such a sweetheart, her faith in them absolute.
He leaned against the counter. All that buildup, all the worry and stress and preparation, and here it was—success. This was what success felt like. Exhilarating, satisfying, but oddly quiet.
He wished Ben were here to celebrate with. He supposed he could have champagne with Olivia later, but for some reason, he didn’t want to celebrate this with her. She didn’t know all the work that had gone into this moment. Sabrina knew all the nitty-gritty, had listened to him go on and on about it, but she was down in LA. Maybe he could text her the good news. She’d told him goodbye, but a text wasn’t too personal, and they had been in touch when his name got linked with hers again in the gossip rags.
He pulled out his phone just as a chime went off in the house like a muted doorbell. He stuck his phone back in his pocket and headed over to the front door. Maybe it was the caretaker checking in to see if Logan needed anything. He checked the monitor screen by the door that showed the outside view. No one was there.
He stepped outside and saw a red Jeep by the gate. He walked a little closer, and the driver’s side window powered down. Sabrina poked her head out with a wave. “Hi, it’s me! Can you let me through?”
He stared at her in shock. “Sabrina! I thought you were in LA!”
She gestured to the gate. He nodded, went back inside, and pressed the button. Claire had given him instructions on letting a visitor in, just in case he wanted to have Olivia over. But it was Sabrina. He still couldn’t believe she was actually here. Now he didn’t have to celebrate alone. She parked in the driveway behind his rented black BMW.
He held open the front door. “Come in! What’re you doing here?”
She wore one of her professional outfits—red lacey short-sleeved top with white dress pants and beige flats. He was still in his business-meeting clothes, a white button-down shirt, gray suit pants, and black leather shoes. He’d figured he’d need the outfit for the fancy restaurant tonight with Olivia.
Strangely, Sabrina didn’t smile at him like she normally would. She walked at a brisk pace and stepped inside, her expression serious. “Claire told me you were staying here. I wanted to stop by.”
“You okay?” he asked. “How was the drive?”
“I’m good.” Her tone brightened. “Drive was good.”
“I was just about to have a celebratory glass of champagne. We got an incredible offer from Elias. Done deal.”
She beamed, and it was like the sun came out. “Oh, Logan! That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you and Ben!”
He smiled back, thrilled to share this with her. “Thanks. Want some champagne?”
She got serious. “Maybe we should talk first.”
His brows drew together in concern. “Did something happen? Is that woman harassing you some more? What a bitch.” Sabrina had been through the wringer with all the media attention.
She bit her lip. “How much time do you have before you meet Olivia for dinner?”
He glanced at his phone. “About an hour.” He studied her. “What is it?”
She went to the overstuffed white sofa and patted the seat next to her.
He took a seat and looked at her expectantly. “Well?”
She took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. When she spoke, it was in her reserved professional counselor tone. “I have a theory that people become most upset about what they themselves are guilty of.”
“O-kay,” he said slowly, not sure where she was going with this. He hadn’t done anything to feel guilty about.
“Shit.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead and closed her eyes.
“What?”
She met his eyes. “I just realized how that applies to me. I have a thing against commitment-phobes—” her palm rested against her heart “—and I’m a commitment-phobe. That’s why I haven’t had a relationship in years. Ugh. The irony. I’m the person I warn people about.”
He cocked his head. “What? No way. You dedicate your life to helping couples commit to each other. That’s your thing.”
She sighed. “That’s my thing for others, yes. But, for me, I haven’t had a committed relationship since my ex left me at the altar.” She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was real and raw. “Logan, it was so humiliating, me standing up there in my wedding gown, all of our family and friends there, and then he just walked out the back door of the church and never looked back.”
“Bastard,” he spat. He wanted to punch the guy.
She gave him a tight smile. “Thanks.” She hesitated before saying, “I think it affected me more than I realized. I longed for a relationship, yet did nothing to find a meaningful connection that might one day lead to that.”
His brows scrunched together in confusion. “So you drove all the way up from LA to confess that you’re a commitment-phobe? Don’t feel bad. Obviously you know what you’re doing with other people. Now you can just apply the same advice to yourself.”
She stared straight ahead. “I stopped by the Slater Foundation.”
An uneasy feeling went through him. Olivia would tear sweet Sabrina to shreds. “You did?”
She faced him. “I wanted to fix what I’d screwed up for you. I just wanted to assure Olivia she had nothing to worry about where you and I were concerned.”
He grimaced. “I’m guessing it didn’t go well.”
“No. It went very, very badly.” She spoke slowly as if trying to ease into treacherous territory. “I guess what I’m trying to say is…my theory that people become most upset about what they’re guilty of…” She paused, searching his expression, before finally saying, “Well, that might apply to Olivia too with her jealousy issues.”
He read between the lines. “You mean her jealousy and accusations are because she’s guilty of cheating on me?”
“Yes,” she said softly. Her eyes were big and sympathetic. “I went to her office, and she was with a man in her private bathroom. They came out half undressed, obviously having hooked up. She as much as admitted—”
“That’s enough.” He stood and walked a few steps away. Could this be right? Olivia was cheating on him after all the fuss she’d made over him having relationships, even friendly ones, with other women? Olivia was the one who had reached out to him. Why would she do that if she was already in a relationship?
Sabrina spoke up. “There’s more you should know.”
He shook his head. “I’ll call her, figure out what’s what, and then you can have some champagne with me. Help yourself to the fridge if you’re hungry.”
He was heading for the stairs to call Olivia in privacy when Sabrina called out urgently, “She was using you to put pressure on her boyfriend, Anil, not to go through with his arranged marriage, but he’s still going through with it. I’m not sure if you were her plan B, or she hoped to marry you to rub it in his face. Maybe both.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. Here he’d been thinking they had something real when he’d been played. If what Sabrina said was true. He needed to talk to Olivia and hear it directly from her. He held up a hand in acknowledgment to Sabrina and continued upstairs to the master bedroom, closed the door for privacy, and called Olivia.
“Hello,” she purred. “Can’t wait to see you tonight. It’s been so long.”
“Olivia, Sabrina told me everything. You’re with Anil, using me to force his hand and make him not go through with an arranged marriage. He’s still going to marry this other person. Please tell me if this is true.”
“I ended it, I swear. I was a fool to be with him. You’re my future.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Dammit. He couldn’t believe he’d let it get this far with her. He’d been ready to leave his family and friends behind and move cross-country to solidify their relationship when there was no relationship. He’d let their past connection in college weigh too heavily on their future.
“Logan, please, you and I never explicitly said we were exclusive.”
“Then why the hell were you freaking out that I might be with Sabrina!” He exhaled sharply. “This is over. Goodbye, Olivia.” He disconnected, beyond aggravated. Then he deleted Olivia’s contact info from his phone. A small vengeance.
He stood there for a minute, letting himself cool down before heading downstairs. He found Sabrina in the kitchen, washing some green grapes. He waited for her to turn the water off before saying, “Hey.”
She whirled. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He lifted his palms. “I ended it with her.”
She set the grapes on some paper towels and dried her hands. “I’m so sorry. I know you were hoping things would go very differently.”
He pressed his lips together, still pissed he’d been so fooled by Olivia. “Yeah, well.”
Sabrina spoke in a gentle, soothing tone. “I just couldn’t let you move forward not knowing what she was about.”
He nodded. “Thanks, you saved me from a huge mistake. Want to get drunk?”