Part 7 (1/2)
She smiled. ”As long as she makes you happy.”
”She does.”
”Well,” she said with a sigh, setting aside her knitting. ”I've had about enough with the small talk. What about you?”
”Indeed.”
”Did you send Joel Tunson his money?”
He nodded. ”I send it every month, Olivia, although I don't believe he ever spends a dime of it.”
”It doesn't matter. Keep sending it. What about Desi Green?”
”What about her?”
”Where is she? Hanging out with Oprah, I suppose?”
”Oprah was last month. This month, I believe it's Anna Wintour at Vogue,” he joked.
Olivia looked perplexed by his attempt at a joke.
”She's launched a new business. Shoes, I believe. And purses.”
Olivia laughed. ”All of a sudden she thinks she's Coco Chanel?”
”Basically. She's lost interest in the Gatewoods and seems to have moved on with her life, Olivia. If you ask me, Desi Green's a nonissue, and you no longer need to waste your money or your time worrying about her.”
”Your advice is appreciated, but unsolicited, Edgar,” she said coldly. ”As long as my husband's blood flows through her veins and I am still here on this Earth, I will always worry about Desi Green.”
That was the bane of this woman's existence and it had been since that child was born. Edgar had tried talking sense into Julian. He'd warned him to leave that woman alone. Ida Green was not worth losing his beautiful wife over or the scandal he would suffer and the damage it would do to the business he'd worked so hard to build.
Edgar didn't tell Olivia the truth to betray his friend. He told her so that she could make her husband see just what was at stake if he continued that foolishness.
”H-how do you know, Edgar?” she'd asked him, sinking onto her knees and finally down on the sofa, shocked by the news. ”How do you know he's the father?”
Ida Green was several months into her pregnancy. Edgar had known Julian well enough, and he'd known Ida well enough to know that she had been loyal to Julian. She loved him, and like Olivia, she lived for him.
”I just know, Olivia,” he said dismally. ”I wouldn't be telling you this if it weren't true.”
”You shouldn't be telling me this period!” she suddenly snapped. ”I don't believe you! That wh.o.r.e is not carrying my husband's child, Edgar, and shame on you! Shame on you for coming to me with this nonsense!”
The seed had been planted that afternoon in Olivia Gatewood, and they never spoke of it again, but at some point in her life, she'd accepted the truth that Desi Green was a Gatewood, and she'd never let the reality stray too far from her thoughts. It was the driving force behind the reason Olivia put that gun in Desi's hands instead of Ida's the night Julian was shot. She'd never said it, but Edgar had reached the conclusion on his own.
”Speaking of Desi, how is my son?” she asked coolly.
The relations.h.i.+p between the two of them had become strained at best since he'd had her placed here. Olivia resented him for trying to save her life, and he loved her enough to let her resent him.
Edgar had never kept secrets from Olivia. He'd always cared for her, probably in ways that were inappropriate for a man to care for his best friend's woman. But despite his loyalty to Julian, Edgar always believed that Olivia deserved better than to ever be lied to. The Gatewood name, the family's position, always seemed to mean so much more to her than it did to her husband. She relished it, and it was Olivia Gatewood who had added the grandeur to the name.
”I'm afraid he's gotten himself into a mess,” he casually explained.
A thoughtful expression crossed her face, one that was hard to read. ”How so?”
”With a woman.”
Olivia shrugged. ”That was going to be my next guess,” she said in that delicious Southern accent of hers.
”Does the name Lonnie Adebayo ring a bell?” he asked curiously.
She thought about it and shook her head. ”No. I'm afraid it doesn't. Is he f.u.c.kin' her?”
He smiled. No one said the word f.u.c.king quite like the beautiful Olivia. ”He was, until he lost his d.a.m.n mind and tried to beat the woman to death.”
The amus.e.m.e.nt vanished from her face. ”She's lying.”
”He admitted it.”
She looked shocked to hear Edgar say those words. ”Jordan's never put his hands on a woman, not even Claire.”
”He put his hands on this one, Olivia,” he said coolly. ”And he made the mistake of not finis.h.i.+ng what he started,” he continued.
Olivia stared wide-eyed at him.
”The worst thing he could've done was to leave that woman alive,” he explained without batting an eye. ”Now he wants me to help him clean up behind him.”
”Don't tell me that,” she muttered.
As angry as she was at her son, Olivia still believed that boy walked on water. She believed he was still her little prince, and that he could do no wrong. Edgar owed it to her to set her straight. He'd tried to get her to see the light where Julian was concerned, and she refused, until it was too late. The woman was getting too old to still believe in fairytales.
”The sonofab.i.t.c.h may not be Julian's by blood, Olivia, but he's certainly his by circ.u.mstance,” he said coldly.
Olivia raised her chin in defiance, but said nothing.
”The b.i.t.c.h is a beast, a reporter or photographer, or, h.e.l.l, both-who's covered some of the most incredible events around the world, and she is a pit bull,” he said, curling his hand into a fist. ”She is relentless, and once she gets her teeth into something or someone, she doesn't let go.”
In recent weeks he'd read every article Lonnie Adebayo had ever written, viewed every photograph she'd ever taken, and her work showed him more than any other human being on the planet could've ever told him about the woman.
”He should've made sure she was dead,” he said, in a hushed, angry tone. ”Because if she can bring him down, she will! And she'll do it at the expense of your last name, Olivia!”
She stared unemotionally at him. ”There you go again, overstating things.”
Olivia Gatewood had a knack for taking the things he told her, and tucking them away safe inside herself for processing later on. Edgar had learned long ago not to force more on her than she could handle at any one time. He picked up his hat and put it on his head.
Edgar composed himself. He knew better than anybody that he had a problem with being melodramatic at times. ”But don't you worry your pretty little head about this Lonnie woman, Olivia,” he stated calmly as he stood up. ”No one cleans up messes left behind by the Gatewoods better than I do. And I a.s.sure you, I'll wipe up this dirty little stain the same way I have all the others.” He smiled at her one last time.
Olivia's gaze drifted off. ”Thank you, Edgar. You're a good friend,” she said casually.
He paused before leaving. ”Yes,” he said, nodding rea.s.suringly. ”I certainly am.”
The Makings of You ”You could've just met me at the motel room where I'm staying,” Frank said irritably, sitting next to Lonnie Adebayo in a crowded mall.