CHAPTEREIGHT
OLIVIA
Olivia was getting ready for bed when her phone rang. She’d spent the day thinking about Henry and trying to understand how she felt about him. The memory of their kiss was imprinted on her psyche, as well as her lips.
The moment kept coming back to her at odd moments. She could be ordering a coffee or posting an article, and she’d have to stop for a few minutes as she was swallowed by the sensation of his lips on hers.
More than once, when she was caught in the memory, she had almost called him. Olivia wanted to know if he was feeling the same way … if the feeling truly went both ways. Every time she got out her phone, though, her doubts had risen in a chattering tide.
When she saw the screen light up the dark room, Olivia felt her heart thud straight up into her throat. She felt lightheaded, her stomach dropping as her fingers went numb.
Seeing Henry’s name on the screen energized all the anxiety into excitement. The smile that leapt onto her face was so wide that it made her cheeks hurt. Without giving herself a chance to think, she picked up the phone and answered it.
“Hello?” she said, her voice hushed with anticipation. It amazed her that within seconds, all the reservations she’d had over the course of the day could simply vanish. The worst part was that she knew they’d probably come rushing back at the worst possible moment.
A tide pool of hope and regret.
Olivia pushed away the bitter thought. Henry had taken a few seconds to respond to her, hello, and he didn’t sound good. Concern for him rushed through her.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You sound a bit down.”
“Oh, I had a hard night,” he said casually. “It’s no big deal.”
“It’s a big deal to me,” she said, curling up in bed and pulling a blanket around her. “If you’re upset, you know you can talk to me. About anything.”
Olivia had expected a flippant remark, maybe even a joke, but Henry did neither. She remembered his comment earlier about how parents weren’t always easy. He’d been very kind to her mother. Maureen had already called twice to remind her about it.
Maybe this has something to do with his parents. He’s never talked about them.
“I don’t know,” Henry said, sighing as if he had the weight of a skyscraper on his chest.
“What did you do today?” she asked, trying to lighten the conversation. She was dying to know why he called, but at the same time, she was convincing herself that he called because he was desperate to hear her voice.
Henry brightened, telling her about galleries he’d booked and commissions he’d bought. There were new artists ready to start working under his patronage, and he was very excited about it.
Even though Olivia had a million comments to make about promotions and algorithms, she said nothing and let him talk. His voice trailed off, suddenly, as if he’d run out of words.
“But what did you do this evening?” she prompted. “You’re up pretty late.”
There was that tense pause again. She heard a rustling noise as if he were running a hand through his hair.
“I had dinner with my parents.”
“You don’t sound happy about it,” she said gently.
“My father was difficult, as usual,” Henry snapped. “He can’t take me seriously. Even after all these years, he doesn’t understand the value of my work.”
“He doesn’t like art?” Olivia asked, her voice rising in surprise. She couldn’t understand anyone not liking art.
“He doesn’t mind decent paintings on the walls,” Henry admitted. “But he expects other people to choose them for aesthetic reasons. Sculptures are a waste of space. He hates installations and modern art.”
“Are you kidding me?” Olivia asked, rolling over in bed. “I have a sculptor on board now who only has one hand. You should see what this guy can do.”
“I actually saw some of it,” Henry said, chuckling sheepishly. “I showed your social media accounts to my mom, and she knew the guy too.”
“That’s amazing,” she giggled. “So, your mom is an art buff, and your dad hates it?”
“It’s not quite that simple,” Henry said, his voice tense. “She does enjoy art, sometimes, but I think tonight’s enthusiasm was more about you. She really wants me to be happy.”