(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)

Chapter Nine: "Libertango"

"This better be good," Bette grumbled, leaning over to kiss Olivia's cheek as she dropped into the chair next to her. "It's so early."

"I know," Olivia murmured, glancing around before she pulled out her flask. She discreetly poured a very generous splash of vodka into her orange juice and tucked it away so quickly that Bette nearly missed it.

"Oh boy. It's that kind of morning," she sighed. She glanced over at her sister-in-law, a dark pair of sunglasses firmly planted on her face. "Rough night?" She watched Olivia flinch and cough.

"Something like that," she muttered, downing a gulp. She sat forward, her elbows on the table as she leaned her head into her hands. "Oh, Bette…"

"You know, I know that sigh. That 'Help-me-I-don't-how-to-fix-the-mess-I've-made' sigh." She waited until Olivia looked up, an embarrassed blush flushing in her throat. "What did you do?"

Her hands went to her cheeks, sighing at the way they trembled against her flesh. "Last night, I…slept with Gregory." She sat, waiting for the fallout she expected.

She didn't expect the nuclear bomb.

"You…what?" Bette hissed, leaning in angrily. "My brother's been dead barely a month and-"

"Oh, Bette, please. You know what kind of marriage Del and I had."

"He knew too, apparently." She sighed, collapsing against the back of her chair as she thought back to the will reading. "He all but practically spelled it out. 'Faithful Olivia,' wasn't that what he said?"

"I was just as faithful as he was," she argued, her head throbbing. "You yourself knew how faithful that was."

"But, so soon? And, what about Thomas and Louise?"

"Coffee?" the waitress asked pleasantly.

Olivia shoved her mug over, steam rising as the waitress poured it full. "I've got an awful headache," she sighed, causing her sister-in-law to chuckle.

"Hangover…or regret?"

"Both." The waitress bit back a smile as she turned away and Olivia sighed, taking a tentative sip. "The children weren't home. No one was."

"Hmm, when the cat's away…"

"Please, stop." She looked up, brushing her hair back. "I need to talk to you about what happened."

"I'll tell you what happened: Gregory. It was only a matter of time before you let yourself go loopy around him."

"Loopy?"

"You know what I mean. Ridiculous." She sighed, stirring milk and sugar into her coffee. She tapped the spoon against the mug until Olivia winced. "Oh, so sorry," she said sweetly.

"Maybe I was a little ridiculous."

"Of course you were. What did you think was going to happen if you stayed in Gregory's house, slept in his guest room?"

"Believe it or not, I wasn't thinking of that when he offered to have us stay there." Bette's eyes were skeptical and she turned away from her, suddenly annoyed. The early morning sun stained the ocean and she looked out at the horizon, imagining her children tucked into the berths below deck on Gregory's boat. "Maybe," she finally said, turning back to Bette, "it was a mistake to stay with him for so long."

"You think?" she scoffed.

"I mean, it's not as if the papers are still writing about Del's murder every day. Maybe we can move back into the hotel?"

"Or, you can stay with me, like I offered."

"Bette, you know I won't stay with you. Annie lives there too."

She shook her head, watching her over the rim of her mug. "You wouldn't know it though. She met some new fellow and she's hardly been home these last few days."

"Hmm. Regardless, it wouldn't work."

"But staying with Gregory this last month has?"

Her face turned as she winced. "Thomas and Louise get along with his children," she said meekly.

"Right. And, that's the only reason you stayed. Admit it: a part of you got a cheap thrill from living under the same roof as Gregory!"

"Oh, alright! Yes! I did!" She watched Bette smile, satisfied.

"Olivia," she said sternly, reaching for her hand, "listen to me. You're my best friend. I've loved you since before my brother married you, so I want you to keep that in mind when I tell you-"

"What?"

She sighed. "You have got to get over this thing you have for Gregory. Listen Toots, no good will come of it. You're not twenty any more."

"Thank you. I'm very aware of the march of time through my life." She sat back, crossing her arms against her chest. "This was one night…one mistake."

"Oh, Hallelujah. You've come back down to Earth."

"I never left," she muttered as she reached for a croissant and promptly began to shred it. "He's lived a whole life since I last saw him. He found a wife. They had this wonderful life together and then he lost her."

She nodded, sighing sadly. "Alex's death…that was a tough time."

"He still loves her," she said softly, pushing the plate of croissant crumbs away. "Every time someone mentions her, I can see it in his eyes." She shrugged, slipping the sunglasses from her face to rub her eyes. "So, last night…I was drunk and he felt sorry for me."

"That's all?"

"That's all," she said, not able to ignore the regret coursing through her veins. It would never be more than that for them.

Bette sat quietly, watching the dark circles beneath her friend's eyes, the blue irises dulled into submission. "Nothing's gone right, huh?" she sighed, patting her hand before she nudged the sunglasses back to Olivia. "For either of us."

She nodded, settling the dark glasses back onto her face. "We're cursed," she sniffed, letting her fingers curl around the hot mug of coffee. "For what we did that night to Elaine. We'll never be happy. Ever."

"We don't deserve to be."

Looking down at her lap, she whispered, "The will is out of probate. The jewels were delivered to me yesterday."

"You didn't tell Gregory how you and Del ended up with the Deschanel jewels, did you?"

Olivia looked up, rolling her eyes. "Why yes, of course I did. That was right before I slept with him." She scoffed, reaching for her mug. "Why on earth would I tell him about that?"

"I worry about your judgment when it comes to Gregory," she said, ignoring the way Olivia sighed and turned back away. "Is it awful," she asked after several minutes of contemplative silence, "that I thought what we did died with Del? That we would finally be free of it?" From the way Olivia slowly looked over, her face suddenly pale, she knew they had shared the same wish.

It just wouldn't come true.


Gregory's pen raced across the paper, circling and scratching with a vengeance. The sheet fluttered as he turned it over, reaching for a new one. Again and again, the cycle continued, hour after hour, day after day.

Until, he stopped abruptly and sat back, tossing the pen away. He flexed his hand, his knuckles cracking. The home was silent, completely devoid of any life beyond the four wall of his study. It was the first time in nearly a month that he was completely alone. Sean's return and the presence of Olivia and her children had all but assured that Haven was brimming with life again.

With a deep sigh, he glanced at the papers stacked on his desk and reached between them. The frame was heavy in his hand, a twisted vine of gold leaves snaking around the edge. He looked down, Alex's radiant smile glowing from behind the glass. The chair creaked as he leaned back, still finding it possible to lose himself in the sparkle of his wife's eyes.

He glanced away, his mind wandering to the previous night. Olivia's eyes had been bottomless pools, churning with grief and pain. But, still he had been drawn to her, lost in the warmth of her arms and the curves of her body. Slowly, he turned back to the photo, tracing the line of Alex's chin with his finger. "Was this really the promise you wanted me to keep?"

The minutes rolled together as he gazed at the photo. The silence was deafening and his hand tightened around the frame, the glass cool. They couldn't have been more different, Alex and Olivia. They were the sun and the moon, the polar extremes of his universe. And yet…

Oh, Gregory. Stop trying to rationalize everything. He flinched as Alex's chuckle echoed in the silence. Haven't you learned by now that some things are beyond your control?

"You died," he whispered, holding the picture over his heart. "If that wasn't proof of my powerlessness, I don't know what is." He heard her sigh and he could almost imagine the rueful way she shook her head, her tongue clicking.

Always the forest, never the trees.

He couldn't help but grin as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I miss you."

I know.

"The children miss you."

I miss them.

He opened his eyes when the silence grew, folding his hands over the frame. "Alex?" he asked, wondering if he was just imagining it all.

Gregory, you promised me. You promised me you wouldn't be alone.

"I know."

Caity and Sean aren't children anymore. They've grown up…and they're going to leave and start their own lives.

"I know," he repeated with a sigh, gazing into the cream colored ceiling.

I couldn't bear you being alone.

He looked down at the picture, drawn to her still. "I've got you."

She sighed sadly. You have the memory of me. A memory can't hold you at night or dance with you on the Satya.

Gregory sat forward, gently returning the photo to the corner of his desk. A feather light touch caressed the back of his neck and he closed his eyes, relishing the sensation. "Alex…" he murmured.

Be happy, my love.

The air shifted and he looked up, finding himself alone once again.


"Good morning."

Cole lowered the paper and looked up, seeing Annie hovering in the bedroom door. He grinned, folding the paper as he stood. "Sleep well?" he asked, holding out one of the dining room chairs. With a nod, she sank into the chair, the hem of his button-down shirt riding up on her thighs.

She leaned on the table, brushing back her hair. "Very well," she cooed, cupping his face.

He leaned in, kissing her deeply. "Good, I'm glad," he whispered when he finally pulled back, looking deep into her green eyes. "Are you hungry? You slept through breakfast, but I'm sure we could…"

She stood slowly and came around to his chair, holding his shoulders as she sat in his lap. Her toes curled when he grinned and she reached out, running her fingers through his thick dark hair. He clung to her hips, the shirt bunching beneath his fingers. "Very hungry," he marveled as her thighs tightened around him.

With a giggle, she arched her back as his fingers slipped up to the buttons. "Starving," she gasped as he pushed the shirt apart and wrapped his arms around her. He crushed her against him, kissing the breath out of her as her arms went around his neck. When his lips danced over her jaw bone and down her throat, she tilted her head to give him better access.

As she cupped the back of his head, losing herself in the way his lips devoured her throat, she noticed the newspaper scattered on the floor of the hotel suite. Her stomach flipped when she saw her father's stern glare on the front page and she raised her hands to Cole's chest, pushing him back as she stood. "Is this today's paper?" she asked, crouching to examine the newsprint as she re-buttoned the shirt.

"Yes," he said quietly, watching her read the article.

"My father's will is out of probate," she announced, her voice flat.

"Didn't you know what was in it though?" he asked, feigning confusion as he crouched next to her. "You were at the will reading."

She nodded and looked up, a deadly gaze in her eyes. "Only of how things were divided. I didn't know the details of what Olivia got."

"Oh?" he said casually, peering over her shoulder. "Anything interesting?"

"Plenty." She passed him the paper and folded her arms angrily against her chest. "Well? Do you see what I mean?"

Cole nodded, pretending to read the article. "The real estate alone makes her one of the wealthiest women in California, I would think." He listened as Annie scoffed and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. "And, the money, stocks and jewel collection only add to that."

"Ugh, I know." She sighed deeply, glaring at the newspaper. "I don't even know how Daddy got the Deschanel jewels. That's the first I ever heard of them."

He glanced over, amused. "Come now, Annie. Of course you know how your father got them." She looked up, meeting his eyes as he continued, "Your step-mother is just like mine: always demanding more, more, more. I'm sure she saw them at some auction house and made your father get them for her." She turned away, lost in thought. He leaned over, whispering in her ear, "And a beautiful woman only wants beautiful things."

Annie spun around, the fibers of the area rug burning into the flesh of her thighs. "You think she's beautiful?" she asked accusingly.

He grinned, shaking his head as he leaned in and kissed her lips. "No, I think you are. But, I know women like Olivia." He stood and extended his hand, helping her to her feet. His arms hung around her waist, locking their bodies together. "You know…"

"What?" she asked when he trailed off, shaking his head. "Tell me."

"Well, Sweetheart," he said, casually dropping the term of endearment into his explanation, "it's just not fair. People like Olivia and my step-mother walked away with everything and people like you and I are left with nothing."

"I know," she sighed angrily as she shook her head. "They've got too much."

"More than they know what to do with," he said, wondering when she would take the hint.

"She doesn't deserve it. Any of it." She turned, reaching for the paper on the floor. "Especially not jewels that are probably worth millions and millions of dollars."

He bit back a sigh and nodded deeply when she looked at him. "It's too bad there's nothing we can do," he said softly, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

She watched him turn away, her flesh tingling. "Wh- what do you mean?"

He grinned briefly, letting his expression turn to one of confusion as he turned back to her. "Well, nothing. Not really."

"No," she insisted, coming right up to him. "Do you think there's some way we can get them?"

"The jewels?" he asked.

"Of course! We just said that it wasn't fair that she had them!"

"Well, yes. But what can we do?"

"You can talk to her!" she exclaimed after several moments of silence. "You're a museum curator!"

"Well, I'm just an assistant curator." He smiled, shrugging bashfully. "Annie, I don't see-"

"Oh my gosh! Cole, this could work! This could really work."

He watched as she began to pace, mumbling to herself. "Annie?"

"I've got it!" She spun around, a wide smile on her face. "You could give Olivia some ridiculous made up story about wanting the jewel collection for your museum."

"Ok…" he said slowly. He had to hand it to Annie. She really wasn't the flake he originally pegged her for. "And, then what?"

"We steal the jewels!" she said proudly, her face flushed with excitement.

"We. Steal. The. Jewels."

"Yes! You get her to relinquish the jewels for exhibition in your museum. And then, oh no," she exclaimed, her face turning into a mockery of sadness as she pouted, "there's a robbery. Or a plane crash. Whatever. The point is, we can run away with them!"

"But, Annie, I'll lose my job."

"Oh, who cares about that?" She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck as she hugged him tightly. "We'll have the jewels and with my inheritance, you'll never have to work again! We can go anywhere!"

"Anywhere?" he asked, a hint of interest infused in his question.

"Anywhere," she promised, cupping his face. "I've always wanted to go to Tahiti. How about you?"

He screwed up his face in thought, cocking his head. "Tahiti sounds nice," he finally replied.

"So, you're in?"

He nodded, picking Annie up and spinning her around. "I'm in."


"Daddy? We're home!"

Gregory came down the hall, following the laughter and voices echoing in the foyer. "I can see everyone had a miserable time," he deadpanned.

"The worst time," Caitlin joked, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Well, better luck next time."

"Next time couldn't be better," Louise said, playfully smacking her brother's hand away from her braids.

"We had an amazing night," Sean added, speaking for the group.

"Perfect weather and calm seas," Thomas added, glancing around. "Where's my mother?"

"Here, Darling." They looked up, watching as Olivia slowly came down the stairs. She stepped into her son's embrace, pulling Louise in. "Did you have a good time?"

"It was great," the teenage girl exclaimed, grinning at her mother.

"Hmm, you could have used more sunscreen," she decided, cupping her daughter's slightly sunburned face.

"Come with me," Caitlin said, gesturing for Louise to follow. "Rose keeps aloe gel in the refrigerator."

"Refrigerator…food. God, I'm starving," Sean sighed as he trailed after the girls, Thomas in his wake.

Gregory looked over at Olivia, slightly amused at the way she painfully avoided looking at him. "I'm glad they got away," he said finally, watching as she flinched when he spoke. "Did them all good to get out of the house."

"Yes," she nodded as she sighed and slowly looked up. His dark eyes glittered as they moved over her and her stomach flipped. She forced her trembling hands together, locking them before her as he stepped closer to her.

"I didn't see you at all today," he pointed out, watching the way a pale flush rose in her throat.

She shrugged nervously, gesturing to the staircase and then the front door. "I had breakfast with Bette and then-"

"We were supposed to meet for a briefing on the resort project." He watched as her face turned uncomfortably before she nodded slowly. "Do you have time now?" She nodded again and he turned, hearing her footsteps behind him. "It shouldn't take long," he explained after a moment. "You've come into the project early enough that we can catch you up in no time."

She nodded blandly, following him into his study. The room was flooded with sunlight, glowing on the polished wood of his desk. He brushed past her to close the door and she flinched, stepping away from him. She felt his eyes on her, lingering as he went back to his desk. "You, Ben and I are the primary investors," he began, holding out a thick sheaf of documents. Their fingers danced together as she took it, forcing her eyes down. "Del secured his, now your, stake several months ago," he continued, watching as she clutched the packet to her chest, still not looking at him. "The architect submitted his proposal and-"

"Gregory, about last night," she interrupted, slowly raising her head to meet his eyes. She shook her head slowly, her lips parted as the color drained from her face. He sighed, watching as she dropped the papers to his desk and shrugged helplessly. "I wasn't- I never would've-"

He watched her falter, struggling to give life to the emotions coursing through her. "Olivia," he said softly, coming around the desk, "it's alright." He took her arm, guiding her into the leather chair.

"No!" she insisted as his hand slipped down to her wrist. "You don't understand." He could never understand what last night had meant. The culmination of the sad story of her life, lost in his arms and a sea of expensive wine. His fingers were warm around her wrist, pressing into her flesh. She forced a watery smile to her face as her free hand brushed the tears from her eyes. "I can't keep living here," she murmured, pulling her hand out of his grasp.

"Because of last night?" he asked. "Olivia-"

"Please…stop saying my name." She watched him look up and she stood, shaking her head. She closed her eyes, ignoring the way his eyes burned into her back as she whispered, "I made a mistake." The silence quaked between them and she opened her eyes, glancing over her shoulder. "We both did."

He nodded, standing. Her blue eyes danced nervously as he neared her but he turned at the last minute to lean against his desk. His face was frozen in a stern expression and she sighed, watching the fine line of his jaw. "That doesn't mean you need to stop living here. Where will you go?"

"Back to the hotel, I suppose."

"Our children get along though," he pointed out. "They're friends."

"They can still be friends if they live in different homes."

With a sigh, Gregory folded his arms across his chest and watched her step closer to him. "When will you leave?" he heard himself ask, drawn to the way her eyes sparkled as she stood in a ray of sunlight.

"Tomorrow, if you don't mind having us one more night." He shook his head and she sighed, clasping her hands. "I just- we're going to be working together now and- I don't want-"

"I don't think last night is going to interfere with our work at Liberty. But, you should know," he said, his arms falling to his sides as he stood, unblinking as he looked at her, "I don't agree that it was a mistake."

Her stomach flipped as his words echoed in her mind. "Wh- what?" she stammered, watching as he slowly bridged the distance between them.

"You heard me," he said quietly, drawn to the way her lips quivered. She jumped when he placed his hands on her hips, their mouths brushing together. "I don't make mistakes."

She began to shake her head, an argument dying in her throat as his lips pressed to hers. He drew her against him, discovering her mouth as her hands fluttered against his shoulders. "We can't," she gasped, his chest warm and inviting against her own.

He looked down, turning her chin up with his finger. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, slowly guiding her steps. "Keep telling me it's a mistake."

"Gregory," she sighed, bumping into his desk as he backed her into it, "this is-"

"This is what?" he asked, his fingers dancing against her blouse.

"Madness," Olivia sighed, the pale pink silk rippling as he gently pulled it free from the waist of her pants. He felt her tremble against him, their faces brushing together as she avoided his lips. Her breathing quickened, heavy in the silence as she leaned away from him. The edge of the desk dug into her as he clung to her hips, their bodies pressed together. He took in the smell of her perfume, the faint taste of vodka on her lips as their mouths brushed together.

"Madness?" he repeated softly, entranced by her full eyes as he reached up to cup her face. "Loneliness is madness," he murmured honestly, his fingers grazing her ear lobes. As she began to look away, he pulled her in, crushing his lips to hers. His arms went around her as he pushed her up onto the desk. Picture frames clattered together and papers fluttered to the floor as they shook the desk. She gasped as she found herself pushing his shirt open and raking her nails across his chest.

He muttered a curse in reply as he gave up on the small buttons of her blouse and ripped it open. They ignored the way the small pearl buttons bounced and scattered on the floor as he leaned against her, their open mouths hungry against each other. Their eyes met for a long moment, the desire in her blue eyes meeting the lust in his brown ones. She sighed, long into the afternoon as his fingers explored her body, coaxing the pants from her legs.

As she fought with his belt then the fly of his pants, he watched her. Against her heaving chest, a rosy hue flushed her face, her eyes bright. Her face had haunted him all day, sneaking up on him when he was least prepared. He reached out, fingering her long dark hair. She looked up, a grin lighting up her face as she finally pushed his pants down.

He pulled her in, their hips fitting together as her legs wrapped around him. His hands ran across her thighs, her flesh as smooth as the silk blouse he divested her of. With a hunger that surprised her, he crushed her against him, warm sunlight surrounding them.