“Um . . . okay,” she mutters, distracted. “Pencils there. Paper here. Draw whatever comes to mind. I’ll be right back.” She leaves Josh and goes to the kitchen, her phone vibrating like a kid with a temper tantrum. She sets the phone on the kitchen island, appalled she won’t pick up the phone because she can’t. Not now. She’d left her dad a message this morning, but that was before Josh’s reaction to his picture. Dwight will know something isn’t right just from the tone of her voice, and she’s never been able to lie to him.
His face lights the screen, a photo she took when they walked across the Golden Gate Bridge several years back before she moved out of the city. The phone dances on the quartz countertop until the call drops into voice mail. As much as she wants his side of the story, Josh’s safety and Charlotte’s warning keep her from reaching out. She needs to protect her nephew. That’s her priority.
The new voice mail icon appears and Olivia plays the recording.
“Livy, Princess. Daddy here. I’m still in San Diego at the wine symposium. Gorgeous here. Weather is perfect. I was just talking to your mother and you came up in conversation. But you always do.” He chuckles and she tries not to feel alarmed. Don’t overreact. She gives herself a pep talk. Charlotte won’t tell him about Josh. He still doesn’t know. “I got to thinking we haven’t done lunch in a while, you and me, like we used to. I’ll be home in two days. Call and let me know when’s a good time. I’ll make reservations. You pick the place. Got to run. Love you, Princess.”
The recording ends and Olivia immediately calls Charlotte. Questions race through her mind as the phone rings. What did they talk about? Did she tell him about Josh?
The doorbell rings. “Now what?” she wonders out loud, peeking out the front window. Ethan waits on the porch with a smile and groceries. She opens the door and stares at him like he’s a ghost.
“Hello? Olivia, are you there?” Charlotte’s voice spills from the phone.
“I’ll call you back, Mom.” She ends the call and Ethan’s smile fades.
“Forget about dinner?”
She peeks at her phone screen and balks at the time. “Lost track of time. Sorry.”
“I can come back later.” He starts backing up.
“No, no. Come in.” She hasn’t thought about dinner. Josh must be starving, and she’s eager to learn anything about the days and months leading up to when Lily left. She takes a bag from him. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.” She leads him into the kitchen.
“I brought steaks,” he says when she starts unloading his bags. At least she doesn’t have to think about what to cook. “I saw the grill out back last night. Hope you don’t mind.”
She hesitates before dropping a bag of potatoes on the counter. “Of course not.” Blaze might. He treated the grill as his own.
“Where’s Josh?” He looks around the room.
Her gaze follows his, eager to see what Josh will show her. “He’s in my studio drawing. Remember Amber?”
“Yeah, I do. How is she?”
“Good. She runs her own accounting firm. Dating an ER doc. I talked to him this afternoon and he told me he thinks Josh has aphasia. I read that the best way for him to communicate when he can’t talk is to draw. He’s drawing what happened to Lily.”
“That’s smart. Hope it works.”
“Same.” She crosses her fingers.
Ethan uncorks the wine, and she turns on the stereo to drown their voices so Josh doesn’t overhear them in case Ethan shares something disturbing. Evening jazz pours from the speakers throughout the house.
Ethan pours two glasses. “What?” he asks when she doesn’t take the wine he offers. His eyes mine her face. “Did something happen today?”
She hesitates, debating how much to tell him. They’d been close once, but she doesn’t know him anymore, a strange sensation given the years of anger and hurt. After all that happened, the lack of emotion she feels for him is a revelation. She tilts her head. “Did Lily talk about our dad with you, other than he wouldn’t let her use the car for work?”
He sips the wine. The creases on his face deepen like tire tracks in dirt. “God, that was a long time ago, but now that you mention it, she—” His gaze lifts past her. “Hey there, Josh.”
Josh stands in the doorway, hands tucked into the front pockets of his dark-washed skinny jeans. Ethan gives him a fist bump. “Hungry?” he asks.
“Yes,” Josh says.
“Hope you brought your appetite. I’m grilling steaks.”
His face brightens and he vigorously rubs his stomach. Olivia smiles, grappling with her impatience. She wants to know what Ethan was going to say.
Ethan looks at Olivia, his expression apologetic, a promise to pick this up later when Josh isn’t around. “I’ll put these on the grill, then we’ll talk.”
The doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it. Josh, why don’t you help Ethan,” she suggests, already on her way to the door. She looks through the peephole, wondering who is selling what on a Saturday night. A lone figure holding a motorcycle helmet and a bottle of Fireball fills her view. His leather jacket fits snugly over his torso.
She presses her forehead against the door and groans. Blaze. She remembers the apples rolling down the driveway. Distracted, she’d agreed for Blaze to swing by tonight to talk.
She opens the door, ready to apologize. Their issues will have to wait.
“Hey, Liv.” Blaze smiles and displays the bottle like a trophy.
“Blaze—” She senses movement behind her. Blaze looks beyond her. His eyes widen, then sharpen. He stands taller and grips the helmet like he wants to chuck it over her head.
“What the fuck is Miller doing here?”
CHAPTER 22
“Theodore,” Ethan greets. He lifts his wineglass.
Blaze grimaces at the sound of his given name and looks between Ethan and Olivia, taking in the scene, which is entirely misleading, worse than what he would have interpreted had he driven by the house last night. Wine in her Zalto glasses. Soft jazz playing over her wireless system. The dim lighting because she hasn’t had the chance since they arrived home to turn on all the lights. Her chambray shirtdress with the three-quarter sleeves. Would he believe she’s been wearing the dress all day? But when Blaze had called earlier, it completely skipped her mind she’d already made plans with Ethan. She can only imagine what he must be thinking. He’ll truly hate her now.
Blaze scoffs. “Is this a date?”
“He’s just visiting,” she says.
Blaze narrows his gaze.
“How’ve you been, Theo?” Ethan offers his hand.
Blaze reluctantly takes it. “Fine. How long are you in town?”
“I leave tomorrow.”
“Good.” Blaze’s face sours.
“Will you give us a moment?” she asks Ethan.
“Come on, Josh. The steaks won’t grill themselves.”
“He’s using my grill?”
Ethan slides him a look. “Your grill?”
“That’s right, Miller. I live here.” As if to prove his point, Blaze moves farther into the house, nudging her aside.