"Look, I know what my dad said. And I know what you think, and I know you're horribly disappointed, I do. I just... That wasn't me. I didn't do those things and I—"
"Rian, I said enough. Look, I'm glad you're okay. I just can't see you."
"Aunt Hannah, please—"
She hung up. And as I sat on my sofa huddled in the corner and wrapped in a duvet, wearing my sweats and holey T-shirt, I cried. I’d made a lot of mistakes. My aunt was everything that I loved. And she'd been hurt because I'd gotten involved with the wrong boy. She was hurt because I trusted the wrong person, and I'd never gotten a chance to say goodbye. Never gotten the chance to say I was sorry. Never gotten a chance to tell her I loved her and make things right. And now I wasn't going to get that chance.
Are you going to cry and give up, or are you going to fix it?
Well, maybe I couldn't fix it, but I wasn't going to give up. I would give her time. Despite Ollie's wishes, I wasn't leaving, which meant I had time. I shoved the duvet off and climbed off of the sofa. I needed to wash my face before my dinner arrived. Just as I made myself somewhat presentable, there was a knock at my door. When I tugged it open, I was surprised to find Miriam had arrived before the takeaway guy. "Gosh, you would not believe the day that I've had. I just—" Miriam stopped herself short. "Why are your eyes red?" She barged inside, marching into my kitchen with two bottles of red.
"It’s nothing. I’m fine."
"Bullshit. Did that Ollie Wexler bloke make you cry? Shall we cut off his balls and feed them to him?"
The corners of my lips twitched. "He didn't make me cry today, but he did try and prank me into quitting my job."
Miriam's eyes widened. "First of all, how juvenile. Does he really think he’s going to get you to leave?"
"I don't know. But he basically poisoned me with too much caffeine so that I couldn't function in an important meeting."
"God, that fucker."
"And right now I'm sweating about how the hell I’ll repay him."
"Ah, it's got to be good. You don't get mad; you get even, my darling. We'll think of something fabulous."
"We've got a real Alexis and Krystle Carrington thing going on."
"Dynasty. Oh, I loved Dynasty."
"You could get the show here?"
"I spent summers with my cousins in the States. The reruns fueled our summer giggles."
"Ah, okay. Alexis Carrington was the devil. And we loved her for it with her shoulder pads and her shoes. God, she was brilliant. And she never let anyone beat her."
"We've got this. Besides, we can think of something diabolical, don't you worry."
"But it has to be good."
"You know, one of my friends, she sent this present to a guy who dumped her so he could go out with her cousin. She sent him a parcel that exploded into little glittering confetti bits all over him."
I stared at her. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I kid you not. It was hilarious. All his friends were there. That was epic. Maybe you can make something explode in Ollie's face."
I frowned at that. "God, so tempting, but no. I can't be quite so destructive as that. As much as I want something to blow up in his face, it has to be subtle."
"Don't worry. We will think of something. In the meantime, it’s time for a glass of wine. Tell me what else ails you."
As much as I enjoyed Miriam, I wasn't telling her. That was my shit. Miriam was one of my only friends in London. I preferred she didn't know my whole history and still loved me instead of judging me.
What makes you think that no-one's going to love you for you?
I knew what my therapist would say, but I wasn't going to think about my shrink. Or Dr. McAllister and his medications and recommendations. I was going to open those bottles of wine and pour one for me and my friend. And then we were going to come up with the best plan for Ollie Wexler.
Eight
Ollie
Okay fine, it was immature. But Rian was still here, riding it out. There wasn't anything I could do to her. No amount of unfriendliness, no amount of trying to push her out of my head, no amount of me pointing out or giving her all the reasons she didn't belong here was going to make her run.
Which meant I had to deal with her.
Her smell, her smile, the way she her breath caught when I touched her. I had already learned that she was hard to make go away. In some far depth of my mind, I could have Rian. And if I could have her, I could control her. I could control my feelings for her.
But in reality, goddammit, just saying her name, smelling her perfume, it wound me up. And every time, it was like she was the puppet master.
And so my small retaliation had been childish, and I knew it. I was waiting for her retaliation. There was no way that the Rian Cooke I knew would let that shit go. She once said that she liked a balanced scale. So as long as she felt like there was justice, she was okay. But if there was no justice, her anger shot right to the top.
So I knew justice was coming for me whether I wanted it to or not. I just had to figure out what she was going to do. Though, after several days had gone by, and then a week, and nothing had happened, I wondered if she'd lost her touch. That spark and fire that I used to see in Rian's eyes, maybe that was a thing of the past. Maybe she no longer needed to let loose like that.
And then we walked out of a meeting with Bridge one morning, and I found a package on my desk and frowned. "What is that?
She shrugged. "How am I supposed to know?"
Rian didn’t lie generally. Did I believe she could be manipulative? Absolutely. Did I think she held back, absolutely. But something in her sharp gaze told me everything I needed to know.
Whatever this was. Rian had had something to do with it and I needed to proceed with caution. There was something else in her gaze too. Just the hint of a flicker that I couldn’t identify. It was that flicker that unsettled me, loosening something in the middle of my chest.
That flicker was dangerous to me. Because I wanted to believe the flicker. But there was more to Rian than met the eye. She was hiding something.
Warily, I eyed it suspiciously picking up the package and inspecting it, even shaking it a little bit. “The return sender says Morgan Enterprises. I'm going to call the messenger service. Did you sign for it? It would be just like you to fuck with me and send me dog shit in a bag or something.”
She lifted her brow. "Really? Have you forgotten that you started this? You're such an ass. Is it so baked into your DNA that you can't even it turn off?"
"Seriously, what the fuck is this, Rian?"
"Ollie,” she said sweetly. “Do you think I have time to fuck with you? Unlike you, I'm taking the high road and showing some maturity."
That was funny because I'd taken the first opportunity to fuck with her. A fact I wasn't proud of, admittedly. When I took the letter opener and started opening up the package, I held my breath. I didn't know what it was or who it was from, and I should've just taken it back to the mail room and had them open it safely down there. They had a whole secure way of doing it, but I was impatient. When I opened the box, I found cellophane containing some kind of candy. I smirked. What the hell? It wasn't until I had turned the bag and held it up in the light that I started coughing and laughing.