Part 14 (1/2)
”Yeah. Of course Gran was involved in setting us up but apparently so was my father.” She held up a champagne bottle. ”A 1996 Cristal. Parker's champagne of choice.”
”Son of a b.i.t.c.h,” he said as it sank in.
”I can't believe you didn't suspect something was up. You were always the first to imagine complex plots when we were kids.”
”But I've learned that things are usually simpler than they seem.” He ran his hand through his hair.
”Not this time. Even your mom was involved.” She pulled out a pack from the basket. ”Sally's chocolate chip cookies.”
”That can't be true. She warned me to stay away from you. Let me see.” He took the bag of cookies and sniffed.
Olivia smirked. ”Believe me now?”
”d.a.m.n.”
”Sucks, doesn't it?” She grabbed a blanket, arranged it on the floor with one hand, and dropped the food basket on it before sitting next to it.
”What are you doing?”
”I'm eating.”
”Right now?”
She shrugged and pulled out a sandwich. ”I'm starving and it doesn't look like we're going to be let out of here any time soon. Want half? It's turkey and avocado.”
He flashed back to the first grade when he lost his lunch in a bet against River Sheridan and Olivia offered him half of hers, much in the same way.
Only then it was peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly and she wore a cookie monster T-s.h.i.+rt with bell-bottom jeans instead of pants with thong panties underneath.
He plopped down next to Olivia and took what she offered. ”Thanks.”
They ate in silence. Olivia mostly avoided his gaze, but he couldn't take his eyes off her.
Oh man, he was in trouble.
Chapter Seventeen.
Why was he staring at her like that? Did she have avocado all over her face? Olivia surrept.i.tiously wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin she found in the basket.
No, he still watched her.
Refusing to let it unnerve her, she finished her half of the sandwich, pulled out a cookie, and rummaged through the rest of the basket while she nibbled on it.
At least Gran had stocked them up in style. There was an a.s.sortment of fruit, several more sandwiches, and some pastries. At the bottom were champagne flutes.
”Why not?” She picked up the wine bottle. Knowing this was her dad's contribution, did that mean Lainie bought it? The thought that Lainie could be a part of this and not say anything bugged her. A lot.
”Treat would approve,” she said to distract herself as she peeled the foil off the top.
”Who's Treat?” Michael asked sharply, taking the bottle from her hands.
”A friend.”
”Does Lurch know?” He popped the cork like he did it all the time.
”Stop calling him Lurch. His name is Rick.” She shouldn't feel this inane smugness at his jealousy.
”I can't believe Rick would approve of his woman entertaining other men.”
She really should tell him Treat was Eve's husband, but her shoulder devil prodded her into silence. ”I'm my own woman, and Rick knows that.” She pulled out the champagne flutes that were, of course, in the basket as well. ”Though he might make an exception for you.”
Michael grunted. ”I'm not other men.”
No, he wasn't. And-G.o.d help her-that was the problem.
He poured champagne into the gla.s.ses she held out. As he took one from her, his hand brushed hers. She cursed the goose b.u.mps that rose on her arms. She was tempted to take a swig to calm down but then remembered the last time she used wine as an anesthetic and set her gla.s.s on the floor after a chaste sip.
”That's it?”
”Maybe later.”
He shrugged. ”Suit yourself.”
She watched the muscular column of his neck as he swallowed and her mouth went dry. She crawled to the shelf. There had to be some bottled water somewhere.
”When do you think they're going to let us out of here?”
She looked up. If she didn't know better, she'd swear there was a touch of desperation in his voice. She must have imagined it. In the dim light of the lantern he looked exactly like what he was-a confident, virile, successful man.
Olivia frowned. ”Why are you here?”
He glanced at her like she'd lost her mind. He drew it out slowly, like she was having a hard time understanding the concept. ”To make a movie.”
She rolled her eyes. ”I know that. I mean, why Mill Valley?”
”You've asked this before.”
”And I think it's time you gave me a straight answer.”
”You think I haven't?”
”You always hated Mill Valley. I thought you'd cut off your nuts before you'd come back here.”