The Million-Dollar Question, page 13
But maybe it was better to know now, before she got in any deeper. Evan hadn’t changed all that much after all—the selfish, egotistical jerk. She’d at least admitted where she was wrong; Evan couldn’t even see that he might be, much less admit it.
Maybe Jory had been right all along, trying to keep her and Evan apart. She’d been too caught up in her own infatuation and hormones to realize that Jory might have sound reasons. Maybe Evan knew those reasons were sound as well and that’s why he’d been so adamant about keeping Jory in the dark. Jory might have told her more than Evan wanted her to know.
Not everything you wanted could be good for you, and sometimes you needed someone else to smack your hand away from the cookie jar.
In a fair and just world, men like Evan would come with warning labels tattooed on their washboard abs. She sighed. There was no reason to think she’d have paid any attention to a written warning when she’d done such a good job ignoring the real-life examples and lessons she had. Man, she was stupid.
She’d walked right into this, honestly believing it would somehow be different just because she wanted it to be. She could pass some of the blame to Evan, but she was equally as responsible for her own hurt.
Maybe a little more so, since he’d even tried to warn her.
The cabbie asked if she was okay, and after a couple of assurances on her part, he finally seemed to accept it and remained silent as he took her home. She tipped him extra, though, for his concern.
It wasn’t that late, but the living room was dark and quiet as Olivia locked the door behind her. Good. She sighed in relief and went to the fridge for something to drink. She really tried to limit her alcohol during performance weeks, but the wine beckoned and she gave in. Taking a big swallow, she headed down the hall toward her room.
“Olivia?”
She jumped at the voice, nearly dropping her glass. “Annie! I didn’t know you were here. Did I wake you?”
“No, I was just...” She changed tacks abruptly. “I thought you were staying at Evan’s tonight.”
“Not anymore.”
Surprised turned instantly to concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Between me and Evan? No. That’s pretty much over.”
“Oh, Olivia, I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, but I’m okay.”
Annie put a hand on her arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Did she? Just for the sympathy even though justice was out of the question? “Thanks, I—”
“Annie?” That was a male voice. Olivia looked at Annie, who gave her a slightly embarrassed smile and shrugged. The man the voice belonged to stepped into the hallway a second later. He was shirtless and barefoot and oh-my-pretty to boot. Belatedly, Olivia noticed that Annie was slightly disheveled herself. “Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Stephen, this is my roommate, Olivia. Olivia, this is Stephen. We met through work.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she said lamely.
“And you,” Stephen said. “I took my mother to see The Nutcracker last week. You were very good.”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t as completely stupid as she thought, because she could still tell when she was a fifth wheel. “Please don’t think I’m rude not to hang out and chat, but I’m going to go to my room now and listen to some music. Very loud music. I’ll use headphones so it won’t bother you.”
“Good night, then,” Stephen said, reaching for Annie’s hand.
“Are you sure?” Annie asked. “If you need to talk, I can...”
“No,” she insisted. “I’m thinking a long hot bath and an early bedtime is the probably the best thing for me right now. Good night.”
Headphones on and music cranked up, Olivia turned the water on and left the tub to fill. In a way, it was good that she and Annie not talk it to death and obsess over Evan or what he did or did not do. It was what it was. Wallowing wasn’t good for anyone, now was as good a time as any to let it go. It had been only a little more than a month, so it wasn’t as if she was deeply invested or anything.
So why the hell was she crying?
Although Evan didn’t like himself much for thinking it, Jory was really the last person he wanted to see at the moment. He already felt bad enough for sleeping with Olivia and lying to Jory about it—which made it a little hard to face him—but now he had the added guilt of wanting to avoid his best friend. It was a big spiral of guilt, and he didn’t like feeling guilty about anything.
And Jory made him think about Olivia—they had the same hair color, same features, same mannerisms—when he was quite determined not to think about her. He felt foolish for not realizing her ulterior motives—regardless of when she abandoned those motives, and more than a little annoyed that she’d think his motives were anything more than protection for all of them.
He might be selfish occasionally, but he usually had a good reason why.
If not for Olivia, he’d be happy to have Jory here. It was just difficult to act as if everything was perfectly normal, the same as it was before Olivia decided to walk back into his life.
And while Jory had spent the week on a half business, half scuba diving trip in Key West, he’d spent the week working on not thinking about Olivia and trying to forget the past month or so. They were in vastly different moods because of this.
They’d gone easy on the booze last night as Jory was still cussing him for the hangover last Sunday, and he’d stated early on in the evening that he would not be doing the four-hour drive home today hungover, too.
Evan was drinking coffee and half watching the news when Jory, freshly showered, shaved and not hungover, came in carrying a cup and staring at his phone.
“Mom says to tell you she’s moving Christmas dinner to the twenty-sixth this year,” Jory said, reading off his phone. “Olivia has a Christmas Eve performance, and Mom doesn’t want her to have to rush home on the twenty-fifth. So everything is shifting a day later.”
“Actually, I don’t think I’ll be able to come this year.”
“Why not?”
The surprise tinged with disappointment made him feel a little better. “I’ve had another invitation.”
“From who?”
“I do have other friends, you know.”
Jory sat. “You’ve had Christmas dinner at our house for nearly ten years. If you have other friends, they’ve been stingy with the invites up to now.”
Olivia had always been in another city, usually unable to make it to her parents’ until after he left. It had worked fine in the past, but this year... definitely not. “Maybe it’s a new friend.”
Jory snorted. “Because you make those so easily and often.”
“Hmm, I’m beginning to think I might have one friend too many right now.”
“Mom will be disappointed.”
He’d rather have Dee disappointed than horrified. Olivia obviously hadn’t said anything to her family about what happened—and he was grateful for that—but that might change if she were forced to share her holiday with him now. If he wanted to salvage what he had with the Madison family, he needed to stay away. He should have stayed away from Olivia altogether if for no other reason than respect for Jory and Gary and Dee.
But he was selfish, as usual, and arrogant, as well, thinking he could have his cake and eat it, too.
“Is it Olivia?”
Was Jory a mind reader now? “What?”
“Y’all seemed okay at Thanksgiving, but I realize now that may have been just for Mom and Dad’s benefit. If that was all an act, I can understand why you wouldn’t be up for another round.”
“Look, I had to tell Olivia the truth about what happened. She deserved to know that it wasn’t about her.” He couldn’t tell Jory the full truth, but he should—and could—tell him that much. There were enough secrets in this freaky triangle, and that one needed to be put to bed for good.
Jory coughed. “I’m surprised she didn’t come after me with the carving knife.”
“She wasn’t happy about it, but I think I got her to see your point. You weren’t wrong, and you did mean well.”
“I’m sure the fact I ‘meant well’ went over splendidly.” He rolled his eyes.
“Oh, yes, of course that made all the difference to her.”
Jory picked up on his sarcasm. “Maybe I’ll apologize then. I never really brought it up before, simply because it was easier not to.”
Damn it, that wasn’t what he wanted. “She’s let it go. I’ve let it go. Why bring it up at all?”
Jory leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “You know, if you’d been this guy nine years ago, maybe I wouldn’t have minded it so much. You and Olivia, I mean.”
Evan nearly fell out of his chair, but recovered quickly. “I am the same guy.”
“Nah. You’re not as angry or as hell-bent on breaking every one of your parents’ rules. Raising hell is fine and good—and something you needed to do for your own sake—but you were taking it to extremes. And seducing every girl that got within twenty feet of you like it was your mission in life...”
“No one wants their sister mixed up with a guy like that. I get it, Jory. No need to beat that dead horse.”
“Want to hear something funny?”
“Yes, please.” Anything to change the subject.
“About five years ago, Mom got this idea that you and Olivia would be a good match if she could ever get you two in the same room.”
Evan choked.
“I know, it’s crazy, huh?” Jory laughed at the thought. “She just wants you in the family, and since you’re too old to formally adopt, that was her next idea. But now that Livvy is finally contemplating settling down in one place...” He let the implication hang.
Evan, though, was still sputtering and couldn’t talk, which Jory seemed to read a completely different way. “Don’t worry. I don’t think Mom will actually push that idea, so it’s safe if you change your mind and decide to come for Christmas, after all.”
He coughed and cleared his throat. It was all just too much to even process.
Jory, thankfully, didn’t seem to need a response. “And unless you need the Heimlich maneuver, I should probably be hitting the road.”
Evan walked Jory out.
Jory tossed his overnight bag in the backseat. “Oh, by the way,” he said. “I owe you an apology.”
“For?”
“Dropping that sponsorship thing on you. When Olivia mentioned it, you were the first person to come to mind, and I called without thinking it through all the way.”
Liv and Jory were definitely two peas in a pod. According to her, she’d done the same thing but backed out before actually making the request. “Don’t worry about it.”
With a nod, Jory got in his car. “And if you change your mind about Christmas, just give Mom a call and let her know. She’ll make you the cookies you like.”
It was barely noon and he already needed a drink. The entire Madison family seemed determined to drive him insane—but for different reasons in completely different ways.
It was insult to injury. Had he wanted Olivia partly because she was forbidden fruit? Maybe, but now that she might not be so forbidden after all, he wanted her still.
But he still couldn’t have her. What had she said about men she wouldn’t dance with again because they’d dropped her? Well, he’d dropped her twice. She wouldn’t trust him again.
This sucked.
It also hurt more than he liked to admit, but considering the amount of hurt he’d thrown on people in the past... Well, his dear old dad would love to know Evan was reaping exactly what he’d sown, just as warned.
Call it payback, karma or divine justice—it sucked no matter what he named it.
But he’d earned it. Fairly. Olivia had every right to walk, and he couldn’t fault her for doing it.
And it was probably better for her that she had.
The real question was whether he could just let her go.
Wednesday afternoon, Olivia was in the studio working on her variations for the winter special. She didn’t have to be there—the rehearsal schedule was cut way back during performance weeks—but it was pretty much the only thing she knew to do with herself.
She hadn’t heard from Evan in over a week. She’d rather expected—maybe hoped was a better word—to hear something, but there’d been nothing but silence. It was both good and bad.
If this really had run its course, a clean break was better in the long run—no need to draw it out. Because the past week had proven one thing to her quite clearly: although she’d let her hormones lead the way, sticking around for good sex and good times, she’d gotten in deeper than expected. Deeper than was wise.
She’d obviously learned nothing in the past nine years because she was pretty much right back where she’d been before with Evan: hurt.
Screw it. And screw him.
She’d gotten all attached to the idea of settling down in Miami and taken it too far, insanely believing that Evan could be a part of that.
Maybe she’d been dropped on her head too many times.
It was horrifying enough to have her trolling websites from other companies, thinking a change of city might be nice.
No. She wasn’t leaving Miami. Not because of him. She’d never let her emotions drive her decisions about her career, and she wasn’t going to start now. Not over a guy.
She’d never had to live in the same city with an ex before—at least not for very long—but people did it all the time. It had to be possible. Miami was a big place.
Hell, as long as Jory and Evan were friends she’d never be fully away from him anyway. He’d continue to be on the fringe of her life.
She’d gotten over him before, and she’d get over him again.
She stretched and shook her legs out. This was what she was good at. Anger and hurt feelings could be pushed down and forgotten for a while when her feet were moving too fast for her to focus on anything else and the details required her full concentration.
This was who she was. She’d made her choice years ago.
She cued up her music.
Olivia always felt a little deflated when the curtain closed on a show for the last time—even when that show was The Nutcracker. Months of work and preparation—over. The adrenaline rush of performing, the energy of the audience, the lights and costumes and music—that was her drug of choice and she was a junkie.
And like a junkie who’d been riding on a major high, the crash would come. But she had a couple of hours yet to enjoy the ride. As she left the stage, Theo ran up beside her. “We have a Christmas Eve tradition here at MMBC—a greasy, high-fat, carb-loaded feast at Lucy’s Diner. Do you want to come?”
“Sure.” Annie had left this morning to go to her mom’s in Fort Lauderdale, so she’d be going home to an empty house anyway. “When?”
“It’ll take at least thirty or forty-five minutes for everyone to get packed up, but I’ll come knock on your door when we’re ready.”
“Great.” In her dressing room, she scrubbed the makeup off her face and started packing up her stuff—well, more tossing it haphazardly into a bag to be sorted later. She’d taken home all but the essentials yesterday, so there wasn’t that much to pack.
Loraine, the costume mistress, came in to pick up her costumes, followed a minute later by Richard, the artistic director, who handed her a card and wished her a Merry Christmas.
“And I didn’t have a chance to tell you before the show, but we got a call yesterday from a business wanting to sponsor you. That’s pretty impressive for someone who’s still relatively new in town.”
She fought to keep her face still and her tone light. “That’s wonderful. Can I ask which business?” We’ve done sixteen performances, dozens of public appearances, and the Times did a big write-up last week. Any one of those things could have landed me a sponsor. She realized she was holding her breath.
“The Lawford Agency. It’s a newish advertising agency, but it’s getting big. They haven’t donated before, so extra congrats for landing us a new one.”
Evan. As soon as Richard had told her she’d gotten sponsorship, she’d known it would be him. Somehow she managed to keep a smile on her face and make the proper responses, hiding the wave of mixed emotions inside her. Once Richard left though, she collapsed onto the couch and rubbed her temples.
She’d told him she didn’t want his money. So why’d he do it? Was it a peace offering? Guilt money? Bribery? Payment for sexual services rendered? That one made her feel a little nauseous.
And while there was a definite feeling of relief that came with the knowledge he’d all but guaranteed that MMBC would offer her another contract, it was riding uneasily on top of the other clashing emotions.
She was still sitting there, trying to sort it out, when Theo stuck his head around the door. “You ready?”
“Yeah.” She grabbed her bags and followed him out. A crowd of company members were gathered by the stage door. “Wait,” she said, reaching for his elbow. “I’m going to have to pass. I just realized I have something I need to do.”
Disbelieving, he blinked at her. “At eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve?”
“I know, but yes.”
He gave her a careful look. “Is this something you need help or backup for? Maybe a driver for the getaway car?”
“No, but thanks.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Theo.”
“Merry Christmas, Olivia.”
She waved at everyone as she passed them and went to the parking deck where she’d left the car she’d rented for the drive home tomorrow. Halfway to Evan’s house, she realized how very, very stupid she was being. Even if it weren’t beyond rude to show up unannounced at someone’s house after eleven o’clock—on any night, much less Christmas Eve—there was no guarantee that Evan would be home. He wasn’t heading to Tampa tomorrow to be with her family, she knew that much, but that didn’t mean he was staying in Miami over the holiday, either. He could be anywhere on the planet.
