(See the first chapter for disclaimer, notes, spoiler, etc.)
Chapter Eighteen: "A Marvelous Night"
Morris
This was a mistake.
A huge fucking mistake.
Pancake brushed against his legs as he moved closer to Olivia, the small box tight in his hand. He glanced down, making sure he didn't inadvertently step on the dog. She sat Olivia's feet, watching him with bored amusement as he shifted the box anxiously from one hand to the other. "Olivia-"
Her groan segued to a long sigh. "Not again." Her blue eyes narrowed as she watched him closely. "We've been over this and over this."
He shook his head and looked down at the small box. "If Greg was here-"
"If Gregory was here, he'd be alive and none of this would be necessary." Her voice was clear, not even a quiver. "I need to get close to AJ. We need to find out what he knows." Gently, she reached out and covered his hand with her slender one. "Besides," she continued softly, "it's just dinner."
He sighed deeply and squeezed her hand before he began to open the box. "A huge fucking mistake," he muttered, glancing up in time to see the way she smirked.
"Your disagreement is noted," she said simply. "But, if this helps you be more at ease, then fine."
"This is more than just ease. This is peace of mind." He cleared his throat and said, "You'll need to open your shirt."
With a chuckle, she reached up and slowly began to unbutton her silk blouse. "All the way?"
Never in a million years did he imagine standing in front of Greg's wife before he replied softly, "Just to your bra."
She nodded, letting her blouse fall open as he pressed his hand to his left ear and spoke softly into the thin microphone. "This makes me quite like Emma Peel, doesn't it?" he heard her ask and he glanced up, satisfied with the audio check. She continued to smirk, seemingly pleased with her own joke as she stood before him partially undressed.
He ignored the tremor in his hand as he reached out. His fingers brushed against the silk material and her right breast as he clipped the wireless microphone to her bra. "It's not too late to get you a leather catsuit."
She laughed softly, her breath tickling his hand. "That might tip AJ off," she pointed out. She was calm. Calm with his hands against her chest. Calm in the face of a dinner with AJ Deschanel. Too calm. "Do I want to know where you got this from?"
"It was legally purchased," he said as he adjusted the microphone, "from an acquaintance who used to work for Mossad. If that's what you're asking."
She shrugged. "I suppose."
He nodded. "You're all set." She nodded, nonchalantly redoing her buttons. As if what they were talking about – what they were doing – was completely normal. "It's undetectable and the transmission range is more than adequate for our needs. Just make sure that AJ sits close by."
"Ha," she muttered. "I'm sure I won't need to go out of my way to make that happen." She slipped her blazer on, adjusting the collar. "Just like I'm sure this is the right thing to do." She held up her hand, pre-emptively silencing his rebuttal. "Gregory's death wasn't an accident. AJ coming back when he did wasn't an accident. AJ owning a minority share of Gregory's company isn't an accident."
"AJ chasing after you again isn't an accident," he added.
Her eyebrows arched in surprise and she reached for his hand, wrapping hers around his wrist. "You think this is about me?" she asked urgently. He watched as her expression twisted and she stepped closer to him. "They've hated each other for years, but-"
"Greg was going to hate anyone you dated before him. As for AJ-"
"Yes?"
He shrugged, giving her one final once-over. There was no way AJ could tell she was wired unless he copped a feel. "Never count out a spoiled rich boy who didn't get what he wanted," he pointed out.
She shook her head slightly and tucked her clutch beneath her arm. "Men and their egos," she muttered.
Her heels clicked against the floor as he and Pancake followed her out of her office. "I'll be in a car down the street from Grenadine's." Listening in. Making sure that nothing happened to her. He owed it to Greg. He owed it to her.
When they reached the foyer, she stopped abruptly and turned to him. "I trust you," she said softly, his chest tightening. She stepped closer to him, a whisper of a smile on her lips. "I always have, Morris."
He cleared his throat, embarrassed, as he looked down. The dog sat between their feet, her head back as she stared straight up at them. "Olivia-"
"Would you feel better if we had a code word?"
An absurd chuckle bubbled up from his throat until he realized she was serious. "Sure. Why not?"
Her phone chimed and he watched her pull it from the purse, swiping the screen. "AJ's turning into the driveway," she announced, looking back up at him.
An indescribable expression hardened her eyes and, in that moment, he saw the anger churning within her. "Pulled pork," he suggested.
Her face wrinkled. "What?"
"Pulled pork. That's the code word."
Feet thundered down the stairs and he looked up as Evy rushed into the foyer, followed closely by Casey. "So, you're really going to dinner with AJ Deschanel," he heard Evy say and he couldn't help but shiver at the disdain with which she said AJ's name. She couldn't have sounded more like Greg in that moment if she tried.
"We saw his car pull in," Casey offered as a means of explanation.
"For the last time," Olivia said, barely keeping the exasperation out of her voice, "it's just dinner."
"Mom, that guy is a complete-"
He watched as Casey's hand settled firmly on Evy's right shoulder. "He's a business partner," he said calmly, trying to smooth over the waters.
"And, a minority one at that," Olivia pointed out as Evy shook off her older brother's hand, still glaring. "He needs to be reminded of his place in Liberty."
Evy rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Do what you want."
"Good night, darling," she called out as her youngest child stomped back up the stairs. He and Casey made eye contact, but the younger man only shrugged. She turned to Casey, flashing a brief smile, before she turned to him. The glint of anger still shone in her blue eyes as she whispered, "Pulled pork."
Olivia
"This way, Mr. Deschanel." I forced a smile to my face as Hans, the maître d', led us through the dining room. AJ's hand lingered near my left elbow and I felt on display as we walked through the maze of tables. Suddenly, like when I was here with Bette a few weeks ago, I was bombarded with memories of Gregory and I walking this very path. It was always the restaurant we always went to when it was just the two of us. Coming here now with AJ was a mistake. A tremor went through my body and I panicked, wondering if he could feel it. I glanced over at him, but he was too busy nodding at people he recognized at other tables.
My left hand curled into a ball and my thumb rubbed against the bands of my engagement and wedding rings. This was for Gregory. My skin crawled as AJ's hand crept up my arm to rest between my shoulder blades. Near my now-healed right scapula, injured in the car crash he orchestrated. Him or Ben. Or both of them. I was convinced of it. Despite my pleas to Morris for proof, I knew what I felt in my soul. No one had more to gain from Gregory's death than Ben or AJ.
My stomach flipped as I slipped into the chair Hans held out before I heard AJ say, "Merci, Hans. I'll take it from here." Then his hands were on my shoulders for the briefest of moments, long enough for him to give them a gentle squeeze, before he pushed my chair to the table. This was for Gregory.
"Thank you," I murmured, wondering if he could hear the tension in my voice. Gregory would've been able to hear it.
AJ's charming smile, the one I adored when I was 18, beamed across the small table. I certainly hoped Morris' microphone would be able to hear everything we said. Despite its flimsy appearance, he assured me it was powerful. "I would be remiss if I didn't say just how pleased I am that you've joined me for dinner tonight."
I forced a bashful chuckle from my throat. "Are you really?"
"Oh, yes. You honor me with your presence. We will have a marvelous night."
This was for Gregory. With a teasing smile, I leaned in and said softly, "Still a flatterer."
His rakish grin stretched all the way to his blue-gray eyes. "Well," he began quietly and I smoothed my silk blouse, less the thin fabric be in the way of the device clipped to my bra, "I've thought of you often these last few months."
"Oh?" I glanced down quickly, seeing my buttons undisturbed and the device still undetectable.
He sat back, a pleased expression on his face. "The last few months, the last forty years. Same difference."
The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention and I was suddenly very aware of the way my heart pounded in my chest. In my ears. In my soul. This was for Gregory. I didn't even realize I had giggled until I heard myself. "Oh, AJ, how I've missed you. Truly." Fuel his ego, Liv. Make him believe.
He beamed again before he reached for the wine list. "We'll start with champagne. They have a '98 Dom that would be perfect for-"
My left thumb continued to furiously rub the bands of my rings as I pointed out, "I don't drink." AJ's head flew up, but he said nothing as he slowly lowered the wine list. I leaned back into the plush chair as I continued, "Surely that gossip made its way to you since you've been back."
It was as if a blanket dropped over the table. Instantly, AJ's expression went neutral and I saw a glimmer of something I remembered seeing in Cole's eyes years ago when we stood in the grotto for the last time. It was the burn of anger. "Yes. Yes, of course." A heartbeat later, the wind seemingly shifted and something resembling solemnity replaced the anger. "I'm so sorry, Olivia. That was thoughtless of me."
I took the napkin and laid it in my lap, letting the heavy cloth hide the way my hands trembled. "It's perfectly fine," I heard myself say and I marveled at how even my tone was. "Don't let me stop you. Cheers."
But, he shook his head as he leaned in, seemingly chastising himself. "No, it isn't. I apologize."
His mouth closed abruptly as if he was censoring his next thought. "AJ?"
His eyes lowered and I sat up, listening as he explained, "I suppose I'm guilty of remembering us how we were years ago." Slowly, he looked up, meeting my eyes. "The parties, flute after flute of champagne, the dancing…" A smirk appeared on his lips as I watched him smooth his tie, his fingers dancing over his ostentatious diamond tie pin. "The long and sleepless nights.
This was for Gregory. With a soft chuckle, I suggested with a shrug, "The irreplaceable advantages of youth." My youngest child's disgusted expression suddenly came to mind, the way she stormed from the foyer. So, you're really going to dinner with AJ Deschanel. Someday, she'd understand why I was doing this. They all would.
He shook his head slightly, disagreeing. "It wasn't just youth," he suggested. "You were…a goddess. An intoxicating and bewitching goddess."
I couldn't help it. "A goddess?" I laughed, truly amused. "You knew an 18-year-old girl. A bloody child. Someone who had barely begun to live." I could feel a trickle of sweat run down my spine as I twisted my hands in my lap. The diamond of my engagement ring dug into my palm as I watched a condescending expression bloom on AJ's face. Perhaps he couldn't help it either.
"I'm also guilty of remembering you how you were years ago…before Gregory turned you into an alcoholic."
As a flush of white-hot anger consumed me, I watched his condescension gave way to smugness. I leaned forward, feeling the glare etched into my expression as I hissed, "You know nothing about my marriage. Nothing." Did he realize he had crossed a line? That his French charm would only get him so far? "Gregory and I were married for nearly 45 years. It wasn't perfect. We had difficult times. But, it was our life. Ours." My voice shook with ire as I snapped, "I wouldn't trade a single moment of those years for anything."
"Olivia-" he began, his face suddenly a mask of surprise as I stood abruptly and reached for my clutch.
"Enjoy your dinner," I shot back. I ignored the way he called my name, drawing the attention of the other tables as I walked through the restaurant. "I'm leaving, Morris."
Morris
He swerved into the valet lane, slammed on the brakes, and threw the car into Park. The timing was perfect. Olivia stormed through the stained-glass doors and he pressed the button, rolling down the front passenger window. "Olivia!" he called out and her head whipped up around. The expression on her face was unsurprising. She was furious. He pulled out the ear piece and dropped it into the empty cup holder as she yanked open the door and threw her purse in. He didn't even need her to announce that she was leaving. When he heard the edge in her voice as she snapped that AJ knew nothing about her marriage, he knew AJ wouldn't even have the chance to order them a starter.
"Let's go," she hissed as she slammed the door shut. She slipped her arms from the blazer and he saw the dark sweat stains discoloring her silk blouse. He should've listened to his gut. This was a mistake. She wasn't ready for this.
"Where to?" he asked he asked as he shifted into Drive. The restaurant shrank from view as he pulled onto the street and into the evening traffic.
Out the corner of his eye, he saw her raise her hands to her face and said nothing. The only sound in the car was her ragged breathing, muffled from behind her palms. "It's alright, Olivia," he began softly. "He knew how to push-"
"It was a disaster, Morris!" she hissed as she turned to him, her eyebrows bent into a frown. "A bloody disaster! I ruined everything before it even started!"
"No," he replied firmly. "He knew how to get a rise out of you." He couldn't prove it, but he was convinced everything AJ said to her was planned. It had a purpose. Some kind of purpose.
Her hands fell into her lap as she leaned back into the leather seat. "It's over, Morris. I ruined it."
"You ruined nothing." He slowed to a stop at the red light and looked at her. Her face and neck were flushed. The anger from just a moment ago was quickly shifting into despair. He reached out, covering her hands with his right one. "Nothing. Ok?" She only rolled her eyes, disbelieving. "You want me to take you home?" he asked.
She groaned and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Casey and Evy – mostly Evy – will have no less than a dozen questions about why I'm home so early." The pitch of her voice bottomed out as she slowly turned her head to him. "Anywhere but the house," she muttered.
Olivia
Something jostled me awake and I blinked my eyes open as I gasped. I didn't even remember falling asleep. "Sorry about that," I heard Morris say on my left. "I've been meaning to get that portion of the driveway re-paved, but I've gotten used to the bump."
"Where are we?" I asked, hearing the sleep clinging to my question as I pushed my blazer aside. I glanced at the digital clock on the center console and saw it was nearly two hours from when I stormed out of Grenadine's.
"The hills of Laguna Niguel." The car came to a stop in front of a modern home that so camouflaged by the surrounding wilderness it looked like a hidden oasis. "My home."
I gaped at the house and said nothing. Since he'd reentered my life, I'd done nothing to inquire about his life. Nothing. I'd only taken and insisted. "Oh, Morris," I sighed, turning to him. Ashamed. "I'm a horrible friend. I've never asked you anything about your move back. About your home. If you were settled in."
He chuckled and pressed the button to unlock the car doors. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Come on. I'll put up a pot and give you the grand tour."
Coffee did sound heavenly as I climbed out of the car, clutching my blazer and purse. As I followed him through the darkness, I glanced around. "Neighbors? It seems so quiet."
"It is quiet." He glanced over his shoulder as he stopped at the front door and said, "It's quiet because there are no neighbors. It's the only house on top of the hill." I followed him into the foyer and blinked again as he turned the lights on. "House was built in the 70s by a college professor. One of his kids inherited the property, but he lost it when he went upstate on fraud charges. I'm only the third owner."
I nodded as I wandered through the living room, my eyes dancing from the massive wood beams above to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "It's beautiful, Morris."
"Watch this," I heard him say a moment before the lights went out. I gasped, seeing the lights from the city glittering at the base of the hills as he chuckled. The black void beyond the lights could only be the Pacific Ocean. "I know. Takes my damn breath away every morning." A moment later, he was at my side as we looked through the window together. "Not bad for a kid from Bed-Stuy, huh?"
I felt the smile on my face as I spoke. "Gregory said something similar years ago when we bought the house. Living in a house on the beach with an inground pool was an accomplishment for him after growing up in an apartment block."
A moment of silence went by before he said, "Why don't you go sit on the terrace? I'll have the coffee ready in no time." His hand rested between my shoulder blades as he led me through the living room. "Milk, but no sugar, right?"
I nodded and draped my blazer over the cushioned lounge chair. I stepped out of my heels before I sat down, my purse in my lap. Birdsong and the wind rustling through the trees consoled me as I lay back and rested my hand over my heart. Instantly, AJ's condescending tone came back to me. The way his accusations discolored the seemingly kind expression on his face. He was a liar. He always had been. I sighed deeply and looked up at the dark night sky. With the house lights off and the isolation from the top of the hill, the stars shone brightly in the sky. "Oh, Gregory," I sighed into the night. "I blew it."
But, the only reply I heard was music playing from inside the house and the sounds of Morris making coffee in the kitchen. With another deep sigh, I reached into my blouse and pulled the thin microphone from my bra. The silk was stiff, forever ruined after the perspiration stains dried. My right hand closed into a fist around the device as I whispered to myself, "Blew it."
The bright stars winked back at me, saying nothing. "I'm angry, Gregory," I continued. "So very angry. I have been for months." My throat tightened and I narrowed my eyes. It was true. I didn't want this. This painful ache in my chest where a Gregory-sized hole had taken up residence. This agonizing emptiness that threatened to consume me entirely. This blinding fury that churned deep in my soul.
"You hungry?" Morris' question cut through my silent pity and I looked up, blinking. "You didn't end up eating anything at Grenadine's."
"No," I murmured as he held out my coffee. I placed the microphone onto my purse before I wrapped both of my hands around the heavy ceramic mug. He sat on the chair next to mine, exhaling deeply as he sank into the cushion. I glanced at him, seeing the deep thought seared into his expression. I raised the mug to my mouth and sipped tentatively as we sat together.
I needed to try again with AJ. I knew it. Morris knew it, however reluctantly would admit it. As a current of new anger went through me, I heard him clear his throat and say, "You know, sometimes I sit out here with a cigar and ask myself why I didn't reach out Greg when I moved back." Slowly, I looked over as he continued, "I'd been back almost six months when he died."
"When you ask yourself that, do you find an answer?"
He scoffed and took a sip of his coffee. "The answer is that I was a chicken shit," he growled and I heard the reproach in his answer. "I didn't want to find out that more than thirty years had gone by and he still hadn't forgiven me." I blushed, ashamed, as he concluded, "I guess it was easier to pretend we were still friends, but had just lost touch."
I said his name softly and he slowly turned to me. "He had nothing to forgive you for," I whispered and I watched his face fall. "And, he knew that. He just…well, apologies were never easy for him." He cleared his throat deeply and looked down, the shadows concealing his expression. "I know he would've welcomed you back into his life." Despite Gregory's disgust of the predictable, I know that's what he would've done.
"Well, like I said," he replied, his voice tight, "that's what I think about when I'm out here with a cigar."
He wouldn't meet my eyes as the sound of the rustling leaves replaced our hushed voices. Was this what living alone looked like? Endless nights of aimlessly wondering What if? with only the dog for company? I hadn't lived alone since Gregory died. But, things were changing. Casey and his family were moving out in less than three weeks once their new house was done. Evy was scheduled to return to university in two months. Soon enough, it would just be me. Wandering the halls of a large and empty home. "Do you like living alone?" I murmured.
He shrugged. "I don't mind it. Benefits of being a lifelong loner, I suppose."
I've never been a loner. Other than the brief time I lived by myself in that awful room on the east side of town, I'd lived with either my parents or Gregory. And, for Morris' claims of not minding the solitude, he certainly sounded less than thrilled with the prospect. "But, there's been no one since you and Valerie divorced?"
I've got to hide
What's killing me inside
Let the music play
I just want to dance the night away
Finally, his eyes met mine again and I saw the mix of sadness and regret churning in his expression. Slowly, he shook his head as he sat his coffee mug on the small table between our chairs. "Couldn't do it," he sighed as rubbed his face and leaned back into the lounge chair. "I thought I was going to be married to Val for the rest of my life. After everything we went through with her family, that was the plan."
"Because she was white?" I asked softly and he nodded. He and Valerie were already married by the time Gregory introduced me to them. But, he had told me about the resistance Valerie's family put up when she started dating Morris. A moment later, I listened as he continued, "But, really…I just couldn't imagine anyone else but Val as my wife. Still can't. After our life together, and our daughter, I was shell-shocked when she filed for divorce. Devastated when she remarried two years later."
"What happened?" I asked, truly curious. When I knew them, Valerie and Morris seemed to have as strong a marriage as Gregory and I did. They always seemed happy. Always seemed in love.
He was quiet for a long moment and I set my mug aside too as I watched him. "We just…grew apart." His voice was thick as he looked back at me. "The things she used to love about me became the things she hated."
I reached out and covered his hand with my left one, unable to say anything in the face of that painful honesty. We were just two broken, devastated, and angry people. Still reeling from the twists of fate we were cursed with living through.
Morris
"You sure you won't miss running the radio station?"
"God no." Her reply was so instantaneous that he knew it to be truth. He listened as her voice dropped and she continued, "I would've sold it eventually. Gregory and I planned to start spending more time in Tuscany. I couldn't oversee day-to-day operations from Italy." She turned onto her left side to face him, her blazer draped over her torso like a blanket. "Evy teased we were going to become long distance parents to her."
He chuckled. "She's a spitfire, that one." He turned his head towards her just in time to see the way she stifled a yawn. He swore as he sat up, looking down at his watch. It was past midnight. "It's late," he muttered. "I should get you back to Sunset Beach."
"Morris," she sighed as she sat up, drawing the blazer around her shoulders, "don't be silly. It'll take at least an hour to get there and then another hour to drive yourself back." She glanced back at the house as she asked, "Do you have a guest room?"
He shook his head even as he explained, "It's only got a barely standing futon in there. It's where I put my granddaughters when they've come to visit. But, it's awful and I wouldn't make you sleep on it." A half-second went by before he heard himself say, "Take my bed. It'll just take me a second to put on fresh sheets."
"But, where will you sleep?" she asked as she stood. "You said the futon was awful."
He grabbed their empty coffee mugs and led her into the house. "And, it is. That's why I'll sleep on the sofa instead."
"Oh, Morris. Are you sure?"
"Sure that I'll take the sofa before you? Absolutely." A tired smile graced her face as he left the mugs in the kitchen sink. "Why don't you text Evy and Casey while I change the sheets?"
She scoffed as she reached into her purse for her phone. "They'll think I'm spending the night with AJ," she mused.
He cleared his throat and leaned back against the counter, his arms folded against his chest. "You don't want them to think that," he gently pointed out. "I understand why you won't tell them yet about what we suspect about the car crash. But, you can't want them to be angry with you." Because that's the only thing that will happen if they – especially Evy – think you're shacking up with AJ for the night.
With a yawn, she shrugged and swiped her phone's screen. "I suppose I can just say I went to Bette's after dinner and am staying there." She glanced back at him and said softly, "If I tell them I'm with you, they'll wonder how I ended up here."
He nodded. "While you do that, I'll get those clean sheets on the bed. Bedroom and bathroom are down this hall." She nodded absentmindedly, her hip jutted against the counter as she gazed down at her phone. Her brow was furrowed and she bit the corner of her lip as she began to tap out a text message.
With a deep exhale into his hands, he rubbed his face as he walked down the hall. This was not how this night was supposed to end. With a furious tug, he pulled the comforter back and then ripped the sheets from the bed. In fact, nothing this evening had gone to plan. As he tucked clean sheets around the mattress, he realized Olivia would need something to sleep in too. "Well, that's done," he heard her say from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her in the doorway.
"Pajama party at Bette's?" he asked, shaking the pillow from its pillowcase.
She chuckled and walked into the bedroom, picking up the framed photo of his granddaughters on the triple dresser. "The little one looks like Maya when she was this age."
"I thought so too. Thank God they take after Maya and not the stooge she married."
She looked up, exhausted but amused. "Gregory might have said something similar once, but he ended up liking Caity's husband."
He tossed the pillow back onto the bed and opened a drawer. "That must've made things easy for her."
"Who are you kidding? It made things easy for Gregory."
He laughed as he took out a faded Cornell t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. "You can sleep in these," he said, holding them out.
She smiled and pointed out, "I'm considerably shorter and smaller than you."
"So, you'll swim in them. But, it beats sleeping in your clothes."
With a tired and fading smile on her face, she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. A jolt when through him as she said softly, "Thank you Morris."
"For what?" he asked.
"For being my friend," she replied.
Her hand brushed his as she took the clothes from him and turned away. He stood still, frozen to stone, as she walked across the hall to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Frozen to stone, but still feeling her lips against his cheek
A/N: Olivia and Morris listen to "Let the Music Play" (written by Barry White).
