Eleven
Vivienne
If you need me, you just gotta ask.
Last week’s interactions with Ollie left me feeling unsettled. Raw. I know he was talking about the house, but I could feel a current under his words. He’s sending mixed signals. I don’t know what I want, and I’ve never been so confused in my life.
Concentrating on baking occupies my mind. Annie was thrilled with the breakfast I made for her and her brother. Before she left, she asked if I wanted to make some pastries for her café. I jumped at the chance to spend some time in the kitchen and was excited at the prospect of reconnecting with my childhood best friend. Plus, being in this space makes me feel close to Lulu. Sometimes, when my hands are kneading dough and my mind is thinking about some of the old recipes she taught me as a child, I forget she’s gone.
What isn’t happening, though, is work on the house. I have ideas swirling around my head, but I haven’t acted on anything yet. Davis is getting fed up at my lack of initiative here. He’s antsy to get back to New York and is frustrated that nothing is getting accomplished. I just need time. Time to adjust to the loss of Lulu, time to get used to the fact that Ollie is back in my life, even though I’m unsure in what capacity. My head is screwed up right now, and it’s not a feeling I’m used to. Back home, when I’m immersed in work, I’m in control of everything. Nothing is up in the air. Here, that’s not the case. It’s unsettling.
Scary.
“Are you done yet, Martha Stewart?”
I take the last tray of scones out of the oven and turn to Davis, leaning in the doorway. “I just need to run these over to Annie. Why?”
“We’ve got to get to work. I can’t sit idle any longer. Things need to start happening around here so we can get back to our lives.”
“Let me go shower and then I’ll run these over to the cafe.”
He shakes his head. “No. You’ll start talking and be over there until lunch. You go shower and I’ll bring these to Annie. I’ll even grab you some coffee.”
“Deal.”
“Wrap those up so I can get going.”
I see him roll his eyes when I walk to the pantry to get one of my custom-made bakery boxes. I had them overnighted from one of my distributors in New York when I decided to do this for Annie. Sure, I could wrap my delicious treats in foil every morning and send them over, but I don’t do things like that. That would hardly make an impression. Instead, my baked goods arrive daily at Annie’s Café in a custom, baby blue box with a Vivienne Westbrook label sealing it closed. She takes them out and puts them in a glass display, throwing away my box, but that’s not the point. They arrive in style, every single day, as only something coming from me would.
“Do you need anything else while I’m out? Not that I can get much of anything in this tiny place that hardly qualifies as a town, but I’ll do what I can.”
“I think I’m good.”
“Great. Get dressed and prepare to be dazzled by the renovating geniuses that are Chip and Joanna Gaines.”
Exactly half of an episode in and I’m hooked. “They are just precious.”
“I know,” Davis tells me. “Their houses are to die for.”
“I want to dress like her.”
He clutches his chest and looks down at my feet. “You’d trade in your Manolos for Fryes?”
“Absolutely. I can’t renovate my house with my current wardrobe.” I don’t know if Ollie’s constant badgering of my clothes is starting to have an effect on me, but I suddenly have the desire to go out and buy all new clothes, using Joanna Gaines as my style icon. “Call her people. See where they get her stuff.”
Davis laughs. “She doesn’t have people. She lives in Waco, Texas. That’s just how she dresses.”
“Oh. Well, do you know where to get clothes like hers?”
“I’m sure we could figure it out. Jeans, Frye boots, flannels, tank tops… we can totally make it happen. I went through a grunge phase in the 90s.”
“This is going to be so fun.”
“I think the water here is poisoning your brain.”
“Davis, if we’re going to do this, I have to embrace the lifestyle.”
He shushes me, waving his hand in my face. “Look, these people are looking to renovate an old farmhouse.”
I nudge his side. “Are you taking notes?”
He nods and we sit in front of the television for the rest of the day, mesmerized by this precious couple and their amazing eye for design. I ignore calls and emails from Westbrook Marketing, we don’t eat lunch, and I only pause it when Ace needs to be let out.
On one of our last trips to the backyard, I notice Ollie packing up his tools and heading out. I was so engrossed with “Fixer Upper,” I didn’t even hear him out here banging. He’s been coming around all week to work on the front and back porches, replacing old boards. And each time he finishes, he pokes his head inside to tell me he’s done for the day. That’s it. No small talk, no questions, no nothing. He’s been acting strange since the last time he was here, and I don’t know what to do with that.
If you need me, you just gotta ask.
“Hey,” he says, turning his attention to Ace, not even giving me a chance to greet him in return. He rolls around in the yard with my dog for a few minutes, and I lean against one of the posts and watch them. A smile takes over his face.
Damn, I never thought I’d be jealous of my pet.
I want him to smile at me like that. I want some of that attention. I don’t like this cold shoulder, this flippant attitude I’ve been getting.
“How’s the porch coming?” I don’t really care about that, I just want some interaction with him.
“Almost done replacin’ the boards,” he tells me as he gets off the ground and wipes at the grass on his jeans. “Gonna start on the railing next.”
“That’s great.”
“See you tomorrow,” he says, throwing a tight smile my way.
Ace and I linger on the porch, watching him walk back to his house, and I silently beg for him to come back, talk to me, anything. I don’t like how things have been between us. I shouldn’t care, but I do.
“Houston, we have a problem,” Davis declares dramatically as he joins me on the back porch.
“What? We lost the satellite signal?”
“No, I’m talking a real-world problem. While we were engrossed in Chip and Joanna’s world, Charles sent you no less than ten emails and left a dozen voicemails.”
He holds my phone out to me and I yank it out of his hands. Charles is more than competent at running the day to day dealings at Westbrook Marketing, so if he’s trying so desperately to contact me, there must be a huge issue.
“I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Davis laughs, but it’s bitter and sarcastic. “Seriously? What is taking up so much of your time here in Mayberry?”
“You know that’s not what I mean,” I snap back, angered that he’s right. Westbrook should be my top priority, but I’ve pushed it to the back of my mind, assuming that Charles has had things under control. I didn’t build the leading marketing firm on the east coast by letting it take a back seat to other things in my life. That business is my life.
“Call him back to see what’s going on. When you’re finished, book us two flights back home. I’ll be in the bedroom packing.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
All thoughts of updating my wardrobe fly out of my head as I carefully pack my boardroom clothes and thousand-dollar stilettos. I know I need to come back here, fulfill Lulu’s wishes, but it was foolish for me to think that I could return home and have my company run itself. There’s no telling what state it’s in. Hopefully, it’s nothing too bad. I haven’t been away that long, even though it’s starting to feel like I never left Bellemere all those years ago.
Ace is whining next to me, unsure of what’s going on, and I realize that I can’t take her with me. I don’t know what I would do with her while I’m in meetings all day. My penthouse in Manhattan is certainly no place for her to spend her days. She needs a yard.
She needs Ollie.
I’m sure he won’t mind keeping an eye on her while I’m gone. In fact, I’m sure he’ll insist on it.
I just need to work up the courage to ask him. He’s been so standoffish lately that I don’t really want to speak to him.
Who am I kidding? I really want to speak to him. Just not the way our conversations have been going this past week. Glancing at the pile of designer dresses and shoes on my bed, I leave them behind and decide to go next door and speak to him about Ace. A simple text would do, but suddenly, the need to see him one more time today is overwhelming.
While Davis is on the phone with the vice president of my company, I slip out the back door. The full moon provides plenty of light on the worn trail from my back gate to Ollie’s front porch. He and Sam are both out there, talking low about something. It’s so strange to see the two of them together and looking so serious. It’s such a change from the Sammy and Ollie of years ago. There was always laughter brewing between the two of them. Now, it’s mostly harsh looks and even harsher words. I hate that life has dealt them such tough hands.
Conversation stops when I get close. Without a word, Sam goes inside but comes back out a few seconds later with a beer for me. If this house is set up like it was when I was a kid, there’s always a large silver bucket by the door with drinks on ice to be enjoyed on the front porch.
“What brings you here tonight, Vivi?” he asks as he hands me the drink.
“I came to see your brother.” Ollie’s had his eyes on me since I stepped foot on the porch but has yet to say a word.
“Well, in that case, I’ll leave you to it.” Once again, Sam wheels himself back inside.
I don’t know how to start the conversation, even though I just need one simple favor, so I decide to take a few liberal sips of my beer before I even open my mouth.
“Must be a doozy.” Ollie breaks the heavy silence that hangs between us.
“What?”
“Whatever you’re comin’ over here to ask. Must be somethin’ bad. You just downed half that beer.”
I plaster on my best smile. “It’s not bad. I just have a favor.”
“Figured.”
“It’s not even for me. It’s for Ace.” He raises his eyebrow in question, so I continue. “I have to go to New York. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I can’t bring her. My apartment is no place to keep a dog her size. I need you to keep an eye on her when I’m gone. Can you do that for me, Bishop?”
“Glad you’re gettin’ outta here.”
His comment takes me by complete surprise. I know things have been weird between us, but that hurt. The burning in my throat and the stinging behind my eyes has me turning my face from him. I’m totally shocked when I feel his warm hand cupping my cheek.
“Look at me, Vivienne. That came out wrong.”
I do as he asks, looking up from the worn-out boards of the porch and into his eyes. I’m hurt, but I want to hear what he has to say. “Just got you back here, so it sucks that you’re leavin’. But it’s not safe here right now.”
“But you said that I didn’t have anything to worry —” I start, but he cuts me off.
“That was before I went to the medical examiner’s office and saw firsthand what this fucker is doin’. I don’t know what sick game this guy’s playin’, but I would feel better if I had some time to figure out what’s goin’ on. The guys at the station don’t have a clue. You’re distractin’ me, Princess, so it’s probably best that you’re leavin’.”
Realization of what’s going on hits me right in the gut. I can’t even focus on the fact that he thinks I’m a distraction and how his declaration makes me feel. If he’s worried about what’s going on with the murders, it must be bad. Ollie must see it on my face because he pulls me close. It feels unbelievable to be in his arms again. As soon as I’m against his chest, some of the tension melts away. He’s already making me feel better, just by holding me.
“I’m scared.”
“Don’t be scared,” he tells me without missing a beat. “As long as I’m here I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I pull my face up from his chest and look into his eyes again. “Are you planning on going somewhere?”
“Fuck no. Especially now that you’re back.” His words settle deep inside of me. He left me once before, and it caused a hurt that took years to get over. But right now, on this porch and in his arms, I don’t care about that. I care about now.
“But I’m leaving.”
“When?”
“Davis is making arrangements now, but I’m assuming in the morning.”
“How long you stayin’?”
“It depends on how big of a mess I have on my hands. Hopefully not longer than a week.”
“We need to have a talk when you get home, Princess.”
“About what?” God, I hope it’s about the fact that we’re on his porch in each other’s arms.
“About us.” There’s no hesitation. I guess he’s been thinking about us just as much as I have. What a scary and exciting thought. “You gonna be ready to have that conversation?”
My body shivers. “I need to go home and pack.”
I turn and skip down the porch steps, the sound of his deep laughter echoing behind me. “You haven’t changed a bit, Vivi. Still dodgin’ me when I’m dyin’ to kiss you.” More laughter that melts my insides.
That hasn’t changed at all.
I need to finish packing and get on that plane so I can come home quickly and get my kiss.