Chapter Twelve

Olive

Pierce took me to an upscale restaurant, and I sat across from him at a table by the windows. Things had been cold between us since he returned to the house. We’d both gotten ready and then sat in the car in silence all the way to the restaurant.

I glanced at him now over the open menu in front of me, and I saw that Pierce wasn’t looking at me at all. He obviously had no idea what had happened between Cormac and me, and I was toying with the idea of telling him, just to mess up his head. Just to prove my point that I was my own person and an adult. But did I really want to screw things up between him and Cormac?

“What are you having?” Pierce asked. I put down my menu and sighed.

“I can’t decide between the mussels and the lamb,” I said, without directly meeting his eyes. It seemed silly to be discussing food when we had so much else going on between us. I loved my brother, I used to look up to him as a child, and a part of me ached that things had soured between us.

“Ah, I think I’ll go for the mussels myself.” Pierce was smiling casually as he spoke, and I wanted to screech. I wanted him to know just how bad I was feeling inside, but this was a public place and I had to behave myself.

“Okay, I’ll go with the lamb,” I said, and our eyes met.

Pierce was still smiling, even though I wasn’t.

“So, tell me about Venice, sis. I’ve heard so much about it. Is it as liberating as it’s made out to be?” he asked, and I clenched my jaws. He was pretending like we could just forget about everything else and have a casual kindred conversation.

“Venice is fine. Expensive, but I’m managing,” I told him, even though I knew that he would have already heard stories from my father about how poorly I was actually managing things.

“Of course you are. You know what you’re doing, and you’re getting to do what you love,” he said and took a sip of his still water. I watched his measured movements. The transformation of my brother into this immaculately dressed, refined gentleman had happened slowly over the years. But now he played the role well. It was difficult to tell that he was my brother, that he belonged to our small family, which had lived in a cramped apartment on Long Island. I knew my father was proud, and he had every right to be.

“You didn’t sound this supportive in the afternoon,” I found myself saying. It might have been easier to just go along with this act, but I was bad at pretending. I had always been the kind of person who’d just spoken her mind.

Pierce seemed to choke on his water, but he took a few moments of calm contemplation before he spoke. No doubt this was a quality that made him successful at his career.

“Olive, I’ve apologized for what I said earlier. There’s no need to hang it over my head now,” he said and fixed his eyes on me.

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my breasts. Pierce was acting difficult again, and once more, I toyed with the idea of telling him I’d made out with his best friend.

“So, I should just accept your flyaway apology and move on with my life? I should just accept the fact that my brother thinks so very little of me?” I hissed at him, and Pierce looked over my shoulders, as though to check if there were eavesdroppers.

“Can we not make a scene here? I live in this city now,” he remarked, and I jerked forward, glaring at him.

“So?” I snapped. Pierce was looking at me disappointedly, like I was an ill-behaved child who was embarrassing him.

“So, we should just try and enjoy a dinner together, as siblings, without the drama. We can discuss all that later,” he explained, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“How am I supposed to enjoy a meal with you when I know what you think of me?” I snapped at him again. Pierce took in a deep breath, like he was quickly losing his patience with me.

“And what is it that you think I think of you, Olive?” he asked. I flared my nostrils at him.

“That I’m a child, incapable of making my own decisions—and the result of me being left to my own devices has been a failure of my career. You feel like if you still had the ability to dictate my life, I wouldn’t be living the life I lead right now in LA,” I hissed with narrowed eyes, and I saw Pierce flinch faintly. He drank some more of his water, and I stood up from my chair with a huff.

“Olive, where are you going? Sit down!” he commanded through gritted teeth, and I realized how strongly I abhorred that tone in his voice. It reminded me of the fact that he was older than me, and therefore considered himself wiser too.

“I’m going to the bar and getting myself a drink. Or is that not allowed either? Do you want to see my birthdate on my driver’s license?” I snapped. Pierce clenched his jaws and sat back in his chair.

“It’s a free country,” he remarked, and I whipped away from him and weaved around the tables toward the fancy bar in the center of the restaurant.

I sat down on a stool in front of the bartender and looked him in the eye.

“A gin and tonic, please,” I said, trying to sound as cheerful as I possibly could in the situation.

“Of course, madam. I can send it over to your table right away,” the bartender replied happily.

“No, I want it here, now,” I said to him, and he tried his best to hide the surprise from his eyes.

***

I was on my second drink when I heard a voice beside me. I wasn’t paying enough attention to notice that someone had taken the barstool beside me.

“I didn’t think anyone actually ordered drinks at this bar. I thought it was more for show,” the voice said, and I turned to find an older man sitting there and smiling at me.

He was a handsome enough guy. Seemed to be in his late thirties with quickly graying hair. He was dressed in a sharp gray suit and had a glass of whisky in his hands.

I turned to face him now and crossed my legs.

“If there’s a bar, what use is it if nobody’s sitting at it?” I said, and the man laughed heartily. I didn’t think I’d said anything funny, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that he had made his way to the bar with the specific purpose of striking up a conversation with me.

“Let me buy you a drink. I’m James Dilton,” the man said and raised a finger to the bartender.

I was about to tell him to not bother, but then I remembered Pierce and I threw him a look over my shoulder. He was still sitting at the table, glaring at me across the room with narrowed eyes.

I turned to James and smiled.

“Gin and tonic,” I told him, and he repeated it to the bartender.

He edged closer to me now and swirled the whisky in his glass.

“And now that I know the name of your drink, may I know your name too?” he asked with a smile stretching his lips. I wondered if I would have found this man attractive if it wasn’t for Cormac. Now that I had met Cormac and kissed him, it seemed like every other man paled in comparison.

“Olive,” I replied, and he arched his eyebrows and nodded.

“Suits you,” he said, just as the bartender placed my third drink in front of me.

“Your name suits you too,” I said with a smile, and the man leaned closer to me.

“In what way?” he asked. I shrugged and took in a deep breath.

“It’s a strong masculine name, James,” I replied, and I was slightly disgusted with myself for saying it. I was lying. I thought nothing of his name and nothing of him. I was forcing myself to flirt with him just because I knew that my brother was watching. I was just trying to prove a point to Pierce.

James was pleased with my response, and he took a large gulp of his drink.

“Well, I’m glad I came over and spoke to you, then,” he said, and I smiled at him even wider.

“Yeah, or else I’d be left wondering all night what possible masculine name you could have: Richard, William, Charles?” I continued, and James laughed heartily again. He was finding our conversation extremely invigorating, while I was just bored.

I looked over at Pierce again, and I saw that he hadn’t ordered anything yet. Not even a drink for himself. He was still glaring at me from across the room.

“So now that you know what I’m called, does it mean anything?” James asked, and I purposely leaned toward him so that our faces were aligned but just inches apart. I wanted Pierce to see me flirting physically with him.

“It means that I’m open to suggestions,” I replied huskily, and I could see the glimmer of hope in James’s eyes. The poor guy believed now that I was going to go home with him. He had no idea that in a few minutes I had every intention of getting off the stool and returning to my table.

“I have plenty,” James said, and leaning toward me too. He reached out his hand and tucked some stray strands of my blonde hair behind my ears. I yanked away from him, surprised by what he’d just done. I’d wanted to entice him, flirt with him so that I could torment my brother for a few moments longer, but I hadn’t expected him to actually touch me.

“Your hair is like spun gold,” James said. Evidently he hadn’t noticed the way I’d flinched away from him. I was still dumbstruck by his brashness, and his action had filled me with disgust.

I didn’t want to flirt with him anymore. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him.

While he stared and smiled at me, I slipped my legs off the stool and stood up.

“Hey, I thought you were going to listen to my suggestions about what we could do after this drink,” James said and made to stand up from the stool too.

“Back off,” I snapped at him, and he reached out and grabbed my wrist just as I was about to walk away from him. I gasped at his touch and tried to yank my hand away.

What I wasn’t expecting to see was a hand on James’s shoulder, nor the snap of his body as he was pulled around by that hand. His grip drifted from my wrist, and I screeched just as the punch landed on his face.

I hadn’t seen who it was that punched James, but it was obvious that it was Pierce. Once again, he’d done something to prove how very little faith he had in my ability to take care of myself.

James staggered and fell on his back on the floor in front of me. I looked up with my face flushed, and instead of Pierce, I saw Cormac standing in front of me. He cracked his knuckles, glaring down at James at his feet.

“Get the fuck up, asshole,” he barked, and I had no idea what he was doing here.