Olivia waved for him to stay put. “You have some time before your men bring him in. Please, let me order you something for dinner. If you’re going to be up for hours, you’ll need food.”
Rawlings smiled at her, and she felt the warmth of it spread through her body. “Actually, if you could make me two dinners to-go, I’ll share a meal with Mr. Hatcher. It’s amazing what folks will say over a piece of steak and a bottle of beer.”
“That’s quite an unusual interview technique,” Olivia quipped with a raised brow. “But then again, you never fail to surprise me.”
The smile grew wider and warmer still. “Is that why you find me so irresistible?”
Olivia was fully aware that the chief was teasing her, but she walked to his side and looked at him, hoping the intensity of her desire would leap from her eyes into his like a jumping spark.
“That’s one of the reasons.” Her voice was deep and low, filled with the caress she longed to bestow upon him here, in front of everyone, if only she had the courage. “When this is all over, I’d like to discover more.”
Chapter 16
The eyes indicate the antiquity of the soul.
—RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Thursday passed with Olivia attending to a vast array of tasks at both restaurants. She and Laurel also went on a whirlwind shopping excursion to prepare for the homecoming of her young nephew.
To keep her mind off the fact that she hadn’t heard a word from Rawlings since he’d left The Boot Top to interview Raymond Hatcher, Olivia threw herself into work, scouring the docks for the freshest seafood, tweaking menus with Hudson and Michel, and answering hundreds of e-mails from customers, suppliers, and food critics.
When the inbox on her desk was barren, she and Laurel drove to the closest megamall, talking about everything under the sun other than Laurel’s marital problems. Her articles on Cora and Boyd Vickers and the love story between Evelyn White and Heinrich Kamler had been picked up by several of the big-name papers. As a result, she’d had job offers from across the country, which she’d used as leverage to gain more flexible work hours and a higher salary.
“I’ll be able to bring the boys to their preschool and pick them up again. And when I can’t be there, I can afford to hire this wonderful retired schoolteacher who lives in our neighborhood,” Laurel told Olivia with a smile. “I’m getting the best of both worlds. I get to be around for my kids and have the job of my dreams.”
“I don’t know how you do it all,” Olivia told her friend. “You’re so busy. How will you find the time to work on your book?”
Laurel shrugged. “I write after I put the boys to bed. I’m tired, but I pour myself some wine and sit down at the computer with Michael Bublé or Harry Connick and type away for an hour or two every night.” She twisted a strand of wheat blond hair around her forefinger. “It’s not like Steve and I are sharing a bottle of merlot in the kitchen and swapping stories about our day. We’re not even watching TV together. For the past few months, I’ve barely seen him. He comes home after I’m already in bed, smelling like beer and cigarettes.”
“Have you asked him where he’s been?”
“I’m afraid of the answer,” Laurel said after a pregnant pause. “As long as we’re in this limbo, we’re still a family.”
Olivia cast her a sidelong glance. “And how does Michel fit in this familial arrangement?”
Laurel colored. “He’s just a good friend.”
“You know he wants to be more than that.”
“I told him that I can’t,” she said firmly. “Not while I’m still married. I’m not that kind of woman.”
Olivia wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Only Laurel could determine when she was ready to address the problems with her marriage, and Olivia knew nothing about the intricacies of the institution. It had taken her most of her adult life to meet a man worth taking a risk for, and yet, she had no idea how to follow Jeannie’s advice and do something big to show Sawyer Rawlings that she had no reservations left when it came to starting a relationship with him.
Laurel perked up the moment she entered the children’s boutique. Moving through the store with utmost assurance, she filled a cart with bedding, clothes, diapers, bathing equipment, and toys. She then chose the nursery furniture, insisting upon same-day delivery. When the woman running the customer service desk spluttered an excuse, pointing at the schedule on her computer, Olivia gestured at the pair of loaded shopping carts and said, “We could leave these here and go to another store if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“No, no!” the woman hastily capitulated. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“I wish I had the guts to do that,” Laurel said after their purchases had been totaled.
Olivia grinned. “I wouldn’t have been so forceful, but the schedule page she showed us was for last week. I don’t like being lied to, I don’t like laziness, and I don’t like people treating me like I’m a nitwit.”
“No wonder Michel respects you so much,” Laurel said with a laugh. “He refers to you as Madame General to the staff, you know.”
“I think that has a nice ring to it,” Olivia replied breezily.
After shopping, the two women and Haviland ate lunch at a dog-friendly outdoor café and then Olivia dropped Laurel off and drove across town to meet Hudson at his house. Hudson gave her a quick tour of his home and then they sat on the stoop and drank iced coffee. It wasn’t long before the deliverymen from the children’s boutique arrived and set up the nursery furniture. Olivia tipped them handsomely and then she and Hudson hung curtains and framed prints and washed a load of baby clothes, blankets, and burp cloths. They put board books and soft toys on the shelves and plugged in a crescent moon nightlight.
When they were done, Hudson stood in the doorway and gazed around the room. Laurel had chosen a sailboat theme for the crib sheets, bumper, and quilt. A mobile of bright boats bobbed from the ceiling, and a lamp shaped like a blue whale threw a scattering of stars against the wall above the changing table. A rug made of squares of primary colors and the framed prints of swimming fish lent the small space a cozy, cheerful atmosphere.
Olivia couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to have such a tiny, helpless being sleeping in this room. She pictured her nephew, his beautiful gray eyes gazing up at the boat mobile, hands curled into fists as he gurgled and cooed at the small aquarium attached to one of the crib rails. Would he cry as he watched the plastic octopus swimming by? Would the lullabies or bubbling noises soothe him to sleep during the early hours of the morning or stimulate him so that he woke up the entire household? Would Anders dream?
“Kim’s going to pass right out when she sees this,” Hudson said, his eyes smiling. “I planned to buy a used crib and a pack of diapers and let it go at that. This room looks like it could be on TV.”
Knowing this was high praise, Olivia nodded in agreement and then removed a gift-wrapped package from a shopping bag. “May I put this in Caitlyn’s room? I didn’t think it was fair to lavish things on my nephew while ignoring my niece.”
“Sure.” He examined the rectangular shape. “What is it anyhow?”
“An art set. It’s a little advanced for her age, but the girl has real talent. You should have seen the drawings she did the night you and Kim came to The Boot Top to finesse the menu for the crab house.” Olivia held up the present, which was wrapped in pink paper covered by silver and purple butterflies. “This has everything a budding artist needs. Colored pencils, pastels, charcoal, paints, brushes, and tons of paper.”