Page 169 of The Temporary Fiancée
So why would he say that she did?
Was he just trying to get to me? Just to rile me up, so that I’d hate him even more later when I find out that he was lying?
I take a few deep, calming breaths, letting my rage run its course. Then I pack up my briefcase. I’m heading out early today.
I have to. I need to see Olivia. I need to speak to her, to run damage control.
I need to find out if my father actually pulled that stunt. And I need to apologize for it, if he did.
As my driver takes me home, I keep running through the conversation with my father on a loop in my head.
Who does he think he is?
A pit of regret lodges in my stomach as I remember my promise to protect Olivia’s reputation. I might have been able to do that with the press, but it seems like I couldn’t when it came to my own family.
After all, my father seems to think so low of her. He won’t stop trying to defame her, no matter what she does.
As the car pulls up outside of The Luxe, I’m out of the door before it even rolls to a stop. I rush into the lobby and hop into the elevator with a nod to Henry.
I won’t feel better until I see Olivia. I need her. I need her presence. I need to know that she’s okay.
When I step into the foyer of the penthouse, though, it’s quiet. Empty. No tell-tale clicking of her knitting needles from the other room. No echo of her voice in the hallway as she talks to her mother or Riley on the phone.
Nothing.
“Olivia?” I call out; there’s no response. Worry seizes me. I pace into the living room, but there’s no sign of her at all. Usually, she’d have a knitting project draped over the back of the couch, or a book resting on the coffee table.
But now… it’s like she was never here.
I’m filled with a sudden sense of sheer panic. I head into the kitchen, hoping to find her there cooking something, or brewing a cup of that tea she likes so much.
Instead, I find a yellow post-it note attached to the counter.
Reed, I’m sorry we couldn’t make things work. I wanted to, more than anything. Goodbye. - Olivia
That’s it. That’s all it says.
I stare at it, reeling.Goodbye?Why is she sayinggoodbye?
This can’t be happening.
Was my father telling the truth? Did she take the money and leave me? I want to believe anything else, literallyanythingelse, but when I rack my brain for answers, I come up empty.
I feel like my thoughts are starting to spiral. Really, the only person who can give me the truth—who can tell me what I need to hear—is Olivia.
So I fish my cell phone out of my pocket and call her.
And listen to the droning sound of the dial tone in my ear. I’m not sure whether my call didn’t get through or she declined it on purpose.
But either way, she’s not answering.
Olivia
I lie on my back,sprawled across the four-poster in my childhood bedroom. The mattress is like a rock beneath my spine, but I can’t even bring myself to care.
Beside me, my phone vibrates again; someone’s calling, for the fifth time in the past hour. I glance over at it numbly, and see Riley’s name at the top of the screen.
She’s been trying to reach me this whole time, but I don’t answer. I can’t bring myself to. I don’t really want to talk to anyone, not even my best friend.
