Connor drew a taut nipple between his teeth and sucked. Olivia screamed and her entire body shuddered when his finger stroked her from behind, pressed, and she exploded into a million pieces.
He held her, let her climax wash over her. His was on the way. His sacs were ready to burst. He pulled out with an animalistic groan and spent himself all over her belly and down her thighs.
They slid down to the floor in an exhausted heap.
Chapter 12
T
he fire shimmered in the electric fireplace, casting off a comfortable warmth. The rain continued to pound. Two empty wineglasses sat on the coffee table. Etta James crooned “At Last” in the background.
Olivia was wrapped in Connor’s arms with a throw from the couch covering them. Connor tenderly stroked her curls, and placed tiny kisses every so often on her forehead. What she felt right then at that moment was a closeness that she had never experienced. The lyrics to the song were hauntingly real for her. She wanted to hold on to this moment, even though she knew it was only temporary. She snuggled closer.
“Cold?” he whispered.
“No.”
He adjusted the throw over her shoulders. “What is it, then?” He ran the tip of his finger along the tiny cleft in her chin.
She released a slow breath. How much could she say, if anything at all? But if she wanted to hang on to this temporary closeness she would have to give a little.
“You’re very lucky, you know,” she began slowly.
“Lucky? How do you mean?”
“You know who you are, who your family is, where you came from… ”
He listened to the wistful quality in her voice and waited for the rest.
“I don’t have any of that. I suppose that’s what steered me into my profession, searching for beginnings.”
“You want to tell me what you mean?”
Silence hung between them and stretched. Connor figured that was all she would say, and he wouldn’t press her. Then she started to talk again.
“I have no idea who my parents are. I was… given up as a baby. Spent the first sixteen years in foster care. I did have some nice families,” she quickly added. “I stayed with Frank and Lorna Hollis the longest. All they ever told me was that my birth mother’s last name was Gray. They wanted to adopt me, but I didn’t want it.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t believe that being adopted would change anything for me. Not really. I’d been bounced around for so long. As soon as I got attached I got pulled from the home and sent somewhere else. I didn’t want to love the Hollises. I figured that even if they adopted me, at some point they would get tired, too. I couldn’t deal with that. The only thing that was constant in my life was that I lived in Atlanta for most of it, until I moved to New York.”
“I’m sorry,” Connor whispered.
“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”
“Are you really?” He adjusted his body and sat halfway up. He looked into her upturned face.
“Most of the time I don’t think about it much.” She glanced away.
“And when you
do
think about it?”
She paused. “Then I remember that nothing is permanent. That commitment is overrated. That love is only for the moment. And if you love too long it gets taken away.”
Connor didn’t know how to respond, how to heal what hurt her inside or if he even could. He totally understood her reluctance to commitment; he had his own, as well. What was hard for him to grasp was not having family, a real one. Sure, he might be at odds with his father and might not be as close to his siblings and cousins as he once was, but he knew that come hell or high water they were there for each other. Family was the centerpiece of what made him the man that he had become.
He tenderly kissed the top of Olivia’s head. For now all he could do was hold her and make the time that they did have together good times.
* * *
“Well, I don’t have the fixings for jambalaya, but I can make a mean roasted chicken,” Olivia announced as she came out of the bathroom freshly showered.
Connor had finished his shower and was putting on his dry clothes. “Sure. Maybe we can catch a movie or something afterward. It’s still early.” He tugged his shirt over his head.
“I’d like that. Sounds as if the rain has slowed down.” She ruffled her wet hair with the towel.
“Need some help in the kitchen? I’ve been known to be quite handy.”
Olivia laughed. “Of course. Can you cut and steam vegetables?”
He extended his arms. “I’m your man.”
She wouldn’t read anything into the words. “Come on, then.” She waved him on.
They laughed and talked about all sorts of things as they prepared dinner: music, politics, religion and the places they’d traveled. The more they talked the more they realized that they had been crossing each other’s paths for years. They had both been at Luther Vandross’s last concert at Radio City Music Hall; they loved Lela James and had been at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center when she’d performed with Kem. When Connor stayed in New York, he often frequented the Akwaaba Mansion bed-and-breakfast in Bedford Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, and her first apartment was right around the corner from it. They’d both attended the same lecture series featuring Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, only on different dates.
“I visited Germany about four years ago,” Connor said, before taking a sip from his glass of wine. “There is always so much talk and data on the Holocaust but very little if anything is known about the blacks who were also there and tortured and experimented on.”
“Yes! The Rhineland Bastards, they were called.”
A spark of admiration lit Connor’s eyes. “You know your stuff.”
“It’s what I do,” she said with a grin.
He lifted his glass and she did the same. “To knowing our history.”
Olivia tapped her glass against his. If only that were true.
* * *
After dinner Olivia felt a little lazy, a little cozy, and pleaded to stay in and find something to watch on TV instead. Connor agreed, with the caveat that she join him before sunrise for his morning run.
“If I blink my eyes three times and wiggle my nose will you go away?” she said, taken aback by the very idea of running before dawn.
Connor tossed his head back and laughed, then focused on her in all seriousness. “You’re going to have to do a helluva lot more than that.” He leaned forward, lifted her chin with the tip of his finger and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Trust me. You’ll love it.”
When he looked at her like this, when he was this close, it was hard to deny him anything. She swallowed. “Fine.”
“And since I’m such a compromising kinda guy, you can pick the movie.”
* * *
The movie wound up watching them after they launched into another heady conversation. Connor told her about his very first reno job. It was a former brothel in the French Quarter and the new owners had wanted it rehabbed and turned into a tourist attraction.
Olivia giggled. “My first real job was in Atlanta. I was fresh out of college. I worked at the High Museum and I assisted the curator in collection and archiving. It was very interesting work. I stayed about two years.”
“How did you wind up at The Institute?”
“Hmm. A series of opportunities presented themselves over the years. Internships. Postgraduate work. Fellowships. I attended conferences and met a host of people in the field. I got a recommendation from a fellow attendee when an associate position opened at The Institute. I didn’t get it, but I did get a five-year research contract. It gave me some stability but I knew there was always an out.”
“That’s where you met Victor.”
“Yep. He was my boss. What a cliché, huh?”
“It happens.”
“He’s leaving The Institute in a month,” she quickly said. “He’s submitted my name to take his place and the board has pretty much approved. All I have to do is say yes.”
Connor sat up straighter. “Well, you’re going to say yes, aren’t you?”
“I’m not sure why I’ve hesitated to give him my answer. Well, that’s a small lie. I do know.”
Connor’s expression tightened. “Why?”
How could she put this so that it didn’t sound as trite and trifling as it had become? “One of the myriad reasons why Victor and I didn’t work is
because
he was my boss. It was wrong on so many levels.”
“And… ”
She pushed out a breath. “Now he feels that there can be something between us because we won’t be working together anymore.”
Connor’s jaw tightened. He pushed up from the couch and crossed the room, putting the coffee table between them. “Can there be?”
She vigorously shook her head. She looked into his eyes. “No. It’s over. Done.”
“Then, why hesitate? What string is he pulling?” The lines around Connor’s eyes tightened.
“Basically, if I say yes to him and me, it will ensure that I get the job. If I say no to a relationship, the offer will likely disappear. He didn’t come right out and say it, but I got the message. So I’d be pretty much out of a job. My contract is due to end when this project is over. If I did decline the job offer and wanted to stay at The Institute, I’m pretty sure that Victor would have a hand in not getting my contract renewed.”
Connor murmured an expletive under his breath. His expression turned ominous. He wasn’t going to go down this path. Made no sense for him to get his back up about some woman and her former lover slash boss and their happily-ever-after. “You’ll figure it out.” He turned his back to camouflage the dark turn of emotions that she would easily detect in his eyes. He refilled his glass of wine. “More wine?”
Olivia felt stung as surely as if she’d been struck. She wasn’t even sure why she’d told him, why he needed to know anything about the decisions that she had to make for
her
life. That was what happened when you got comfortable, trusted, let your guard down. “Sure. More wine sounds great.”
The movie ended. Dinner was over. The rain stopped. Conversation had dwindled down to awkward.
Connor stood, stretched. “I should be getting home.”
“Oh. Sure.” Olivia got up, rubbed her hands down her thighs. “I’ll, uh, walk you to the door.”
“Dinner was great,” he said at the threshold. “We’ll have to swap recipes.”
“I’d like that.” Her throat felt so tight.
Connor hesitated. “Olivia… ”
“He doesn’t mean anything. He never did. I don’t know if it matters to you, but I need you to know that.”
Connor ran his tongue along his bottom lip. He nodded. “Thanks.”
“I guess that was a good way to get out of running before dawn,” Olivia said with a half smile.
Connor stepped up to her and slid his arm around her waist, pulled her close. “I’m going to go home, throw some things in a bag and then I’ll be back. We’ll talk, drink more wine, make more love and before dawn… ” He leaned down and lightly kissed her. “You good with that?”
She swallowed over the swell of emotion that lodged in her throat. “I’m good with that,” she whispered.
“See you in about an hour.”
Olivia stood in the doorway until Connor had driven off. This was scary. She was afraid — afraid of the steamrolling emotions that were hell-bent on running her over. Her eyes filled and she quickly blinked away the water. She couldn’t risk connecting, feeling, being a part of something that was destined to end. She closed the door and turned away. It was too late.
Chapter 13
I
t was still dark. Olivia snuggled down farther beneath her covers.
“Oh, no you don’t. Wake up, sleepyhead.”
Olivia groaned and blinked until she brought Connor into focus. “It’s dark,” she whined.
“It won’t be for long. Come on.”
“I used to like you,” she groaned, and threw the covers off.
“I’m wounded. I’ll meet you in the kitchen. I put on some coffee.”
She stuck out her tongue and trooped off to the bathroom.
* * *
After a quick cup of coffee they headed out. The world was still asleep. There was no rustle in the trees nor the melody of birds. Every now and again they passed a house with a tiny light in a window. Beyond that the two of them were entirely alone in the world as they slowly jogged along the path that led to the beach. An incredible sense of closeness enveloped Olivia, even more so than having Connor inside her body. The two of them against the world. A calm settled over her.
The air was crisp as a starched shirt, with a fresh-washed smell from the rain. The grass shimmered in the faint light that was beginning to awaken.
“You okay?” Connor asked.
“Yes… I am,” she said, and meant it.
Connor took her hand as they made a turn. Just beyond the rise the scent of salt water rose to meet them. They cleared the rise, and what appeared to be an uncharted world spread out before them.
Hovering like a halo above the gently rolling water the fledgling beams of gold and orange fanned out, tinting the sea a color she’d never before seen. They continued down the rise toward the sandy shore and along the beach.
Inch by inch a new day made its presence known, rising in a glorious ball of liquid fire. Olivia’s breath caught at the magnificence of the dawning. She slowed, stopped, captivated.
Connor smiled at the expression of wonder on her face and the way that the building light was reflected in her eyes.
“I’ve never seen a sunrise like this,” she said in a faraway voice. It was a feeling like none that she’d experienced before, almost spiritual.
“It’s quite amazing,” Connor said. “Makes you realize how insignificant we are with our petty troubles and silly agendas in the face of this kind of awesomeness.”
Her fingers tightened around his hand. Something inside her shifted. She turned to him. “Thank you,” she whispered.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Anytime.” He jutted his chin toward the stretch of beach. “Come on.”
* * *
“I’m going to head home first. Are you coming out to the site today?”
Olivia tucked her T-shirt into the waistband of her jeans. “I plan to a bit later. I have some writing that I need to get done and some calls to make.”
“Have you decided what you’re going to do about the job offer?” He picked up his cell phone from the nightstand and slid it in the front pocket of his jeans.
She released a long breath. “I’m going to take the job if the offer is still open, with the understanding that it’s strictly business and nothing more.”
“How do you think he’ll take it?”
“Victor isn’t a man who takes kindly to being told no. But I don’t think he’d sacrifice a good business decision in order to stroke his ego.”
“So will this mean that you’ll be anchored in New York?”
“For the most part, but I will get to do some traveling.”
“Are you going to be okay with that? Seeing the world from behind a desk isn’t what you do, but maybe I’m wrong. I see you in the trenches.”
For a moment she was taken aback. Would she be satisfied overseeing projects and a staff rather than being up close and personal uncovering history? She’d spent most of her life searching and looking and hunting and seeking. Maybe it was time to see the trees instead of the forest.
“Maybe it’s time for a new beginning.”
Connor studied her tentative expression. “Be sure it’s what you want. Everything that glitters… ”
She half smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He stepped up to her and pulled her close, lowered his head and gave her a slow, deep kiss that took her breath away. “See you later,” he murmured against her mouth.
All she could manage was a nod of her head.
* * *
Before she got too busy with the technical part of her job, she went through the house picking up and putting back. She stacked the dishwasher and put a load of clothes in the washing machine. Just as she was settling down to work her phone rang.
“Victor, hello.”
“I was hoping to hear from you before I had to leave. Have you come to a decision about the job?”
She steeled herself for his response. “I have.”
“And?”
“I appreciate the offer. I’m honored. But I’m not going to accept it.” And the moment the strange-sounding words were out of her mouth she wondered where they’d come from. Yet in the same breath of surprise there was a feeling of relief.
Silence hung between them. Olivia could see Victor’s cool sandy-toned skin deepening in color.
“I see. Well, no, I don’t see. This is a big career move for you. From there you could write your own ticket, seek out projects and get the funding. Think about all the good you could do.”
“I know. Believe me, I do.”
“Then, what the hell is it? Is it because of what I said about us? Don’t let your pride get in the way of—”
“Actually, no. Initially, I was going to accept the position and make it clear that it could only be business between us.”
“What changed?”
She thought about the question and the real implications of it. She thought about what Connor had said and the truth that was in his words. “I know I wouldn’t be happy going to meetings and worrying about budgets. It’s not what I got into this for.”
“Is there anything that I can do to change your mind? I’m sure the board would pay you whatever salary you asked for.”
“The old ‘money is no object’ ploy,” she said, tongue in cheek.
“That’s not what I meant. Well, if you’ve made up your mind there isn’t much more to say, is there? I hope you won’t regret this later.”
She could feel his frustration in the clipped sound of his voice and decided to let the comment slide. “Do you have any idea who else might be considered?”
“There were a few names tossed around. I’ll know more when I get back and let them know of your decision to turn them down.”
Olivia winced at the barb. “Have a safe trip, Victor. And thank you, really, for everything.”
“I’ll be in touch.” He disconnected the call.
Olivia sighed. Hopefully, she’d made the right decision. Deep in her spirit she believed that she had. As much as she had combed the globe in search of solving the mysteries of the world, she knew she could never stop searching. Uncovering the past, traveling in search of answers kept the emptiness of her past at bay. She wasn’t quite ready to give up the sanctuary of the hunt and be forced to face the abyss of her life, no matter how tempting the prestige or how high the salary.
She returned her attention back to the work at hand: clearly documenting the items that were contained in the leather folder. She took out her notebook, where she’d written down what she’d found and all the steps she’d taken, and transcribed that onto a computer file, which she then emailed to The Institute. She studied the images once again on the computer and tried to imagine what life must have been like for the Dayton family. What were they like and where had the family scattered? Why had they not wanted to maintain their history?
It was hard for her to grasp the notion that anyone with a legacy this impactful, one that changed the course of people’s lives, would not care about preserving it. Yet she shouldn’t be surprised. She saw it often, especially in areas that were predominately black. The stately brownstones in New York, in particular, once owned and cherished by black families and passed down, were often sold off by the grandkids, who were tempted by the extraordinary amount of money outsiders were willing to pay. So they took it, moved from the North and returned South almost as if they could somehow return to their roots — or at least the roots that they knew. Some would call it progress. She couldn’t.
* * *
Connor wiped sweat from the back of his neck and loaded another pallet of wood onto the truck. They were making good progress on the interior foundations. One of his main concerns on projects like these was safety. The buildings were not just old, they’d been in disrepair for decades. He didn’t want any ceilings or walls falling on his men. They had four more buildings to shore up and then the interior work could begin in earnest.
Jake caught up with him. “Hey, that Victor guy is up at the main building. Said he wanted to talk to you.”
Connor’s jaw tightened. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“No, just that he wanted to see you. Maybe it’s about that job up in New York.”
“No reason to get me involved. That’s Olivia’s decision.” Over coffee, earlier that morning, Jake had poked and prodded Connor about how things were going with him and Olivia. He’d been stingy with details but offered up enough for Jake to know that he cared about her. He’d also told him about her job offer and her decision to take it, playing down his feelings about it.
Connor loaded the pallet on the back of the truck, took off his gloves and stuck them in his back pocket. Several things were running through his head about Victor’s unannounced visit and he didn’t like any of them. “Take this truck down to building twelve. The guys are waiting on this wood.”
“Sure. Hey, you cool? You want me to come with you? I can send someone else with the truck.”
“Naw. I’m good. He’ll be safe with me,” he said, half in jest, and began the short walk to the main building.
Victor was waiting out front, starched and polished. Connor had never seen one individual look so out of place.
“Mr. Randall, what can I do for you today?” he asked as he walked up on Victor.
Victor lifted his chin and offered a mock smile. “I was hoping to get a moment of your time.”
“I’m here. So take your moment.” He folded his arms across his chest and planted his feet.
Victor cleared his throat. “Olivia informed me this morning that she wasn’t going to take the position at The Institute.”
Connor masked his surprise. “And you felt the need to tell me, because… ”
“Olivia is extremely talented, brilliant, actually. This position will open a world of opportunity for her that I don’t think she is taking into consideration.” He lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked directly at Connor. “I was hoping that you would talk to her and help her to change her mind.”
“What makes you think that I can change her mind?”
“I’m not a stupid man, Mr. Lawson.”
They both understood what he meant.
“I may have put her off with… caveats that she… was unwilling to concede. Those are off the table.” He cleared his throat again. “All I want is the best for Olivia.” He paused. “And I think you do, too.” He extended his hand to Connor.
Connor stared at the olive branch for a moment and then extended his as well for a firm shake.
Victor gave a tight-lipped smile and a short nod of his head and walked off toward his car.
At that moment a light breeze could have knocked Connor over as he watched Victor walk away.