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Olivia sat alone on a bench, her head buried in a book.
“Olivia?” I called out to her. “Olivia, can you come to the car, please? I have to get the twins to their yoga class.”
“Leave and come back for me.” She flipped the page. “I need some time alone.”
“You know I’m not allowed to do that, Olivia.”
“Leave me alone.” Her voice cracked. “Please.”
I rolled up the window and returned the screen to her uncle.
“Anything else, Mr. Dawson?”
“Try asking the driver to get her into the car,” he said. “She likes him more than you.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and Miss Hawthorne?” He ruined my chance of ending the call before him.
“Yes?”
“I meant what I said to you days ago aboard my yacht.” He leaned closer. “You’ve always been sexy as hell to me, and you really don’t need to wear makeup.”
“I’m only wearing eyeshadow.”
“And fake lashes.” He smirked. “You don’t need them.”
“Thanks…” My heart skipped a beat, and I tried to think of a way to stay on this friendly lane of conservation.
“Instead of staring at me, focus on getting my niece into the car.” He crashed us back into Asshole Avenue. “The twins don’t need to be late for their appointment.”
He hung up first, and I groaned.
“I’ll get Miss Olivia for you.” The driver smiled at me through the rearview mirror. “Give me about fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks.”
I watched him step out and approach Olivia. She looked up from her book and hugged him. Then she patted the spot next to her, and they chatted as if we didn’t have somewhere to be.
Ugh…
Dealing with Mr. Dawson’s hot-and-cold act was one thing, but my patience was wearing thin with Olivia’s.
She had everything in the world at her fingertips, but whenever she was with me, she behaved like I was a villain who wanted to take it away.
In desperate need of advice, I FaceTimed my stepmom Lauren.
“Hey there, top chef!” She smiled. “Your father and I were just bragging about you to a neighbor!”
“About what?”
“The usual,” she said. “We’re so proud that you’re kicking butt in culinary school and working under that world class chef you’ve always admired.”
“Yeah, well…” I held back a sigh. I’d nearly forgotten the web of lies I’d spun for them.
“I’m calling because I need to ask you a question.”
“I’m listening.”
