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Authors: J.P. Bowie

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BOOK: A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA
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“I said get out,” Olivia barked at him. “When I need your services I’ll send for you.” She waved her hand, dismissing him.

Clenching his fists in anger, Grant stood and strode from the room without another word.

“That putz!” Olivia snarled. “He better watch his mouth or he’s outta here.”

J.P. Bowie

98

“Olivia…” Brenda sighed. “Calm down. He was just trying to help. Everyone’s going to be jumpy when they hear this news.” She picked up the phone and punched in Jeff ’s number.

“Hello Brenda,” Jeff said, recognizing the raspy voice. “You’ve heard about Luke?”

“You too, huh?”

“Yeah, the Orange County police were on the phone this morning,” Jeff replied. “They found Peter’s camera at Luke’s apartment. It had photos of my birthday party on it. The investigating detective recognized me and some of the guests so he called me to let me know—and to question my involvement with Luke.”

“Why would Luke have Peter’s camera?”

“Good question. I’m figuring he took pictures of Olivia then swiped the camera for whatever he could get out of it.”

Brenda snorted with derision. “That rat…I knew that kid was no good.

Here, tell Olivia this…” She handed the phone over to Olivia who had been staring at her with ever widening eyes.

“I can’t believe this,” she moaned, after Jeff had repeated his information.

“You think Luke was planning to blackmail me?”

“That, or sell the photos to the tabloids. Why else would he steal the camera?” Jeff paused, realizing this was more bad news for her. “I guess when you offered him the job of bodyguard he put those plans on hold—or maybe he’d forgotten all about the camera, now that things were going his way.”

“Well, isn’t that just peachy,” Olivia said, her voice hardening. “And I thought it was all my charm that held him here. That son-of-a bitch.”

Brenda smiled to herself. It hadn’t taken long for Olivia to get over Luke’s demise. Nobody got to play that lady for a sucker. Any minute now she was going to forget she ever knew him.

“Okay Jeff…” Olivia tapped her foot impatiently. “What do you have on those letters?’

“I’m following up on a lead I got over the weekend,” Jeff told her. “I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“Fine. Keep me informed. By the way,” she managed to slip a smile into her voice. “Tell Peter he’s going to get an offer for my portrait. One of my fans wants to buy it. I’m telling the guy ‘no chance’. I want it for myself. It’s terrific, and I’ll beat any offer he gets.”

“Right, I’ll tell him,” Jeff replied. “I’ll be in touch. Bye, Olivia.”

J.P. Bowie

99

Jeff ’s expression was grim as he put the phone down.

“What’s the problem?” Nick asked him.

“Olivia—that’s the problem,” Jeff groused. “I don’t want to be dealing with her. She sets my teeth on edge. I don’t know…there’s something so damned cold and callous about her.”

“Makes you glad you’re gay, huh?” Nick chuckled.

“It’s not that so much, Nick.” Jeff sighed as he picked up the copies of the letters that had been sent to Olivia. “Usually, I won’t do business with people I don’t click with. They can offer me twice my usual fee, but if I don’t like

’em…well, there’s the door. I just feel I got dragged into this thing with her, because of what was happening at the time.”

“You mean the interviews and all.”

“Right. It would have seemed downright rude, I guess, if I’d refused to help—but now…Jeez, I’d just really love to tell her to take a hike. She was just so damned cold about Luke all of a sudden. Like he didn’t mean a thing to her.

Starts talking about her damned portrait like it’s the most important thing in her life.”

“Well, be fair Jeff,” Nick said. “The kid was using her.”

“And she was using him! I’m not saying he wasn’t blameless here. The fact he had the camera…
stole
the camera, probably means he had the idea of using the photos against her. But I’ll bet he hadn’t really thought that through. It was most likely a foolish impulse and may very well have come to nothing. I mean, did Luke strike you as the nefarious type?”

Nick shrugged. “How would I know? He was the bartender at your party. I don’t think I spoke one word to him. The only time I really noticed him was when Olivia made such a big thing of having him take a picture of all of us.

Even then, I was watching her most of the time and wondering when she was going to fall on her ass.”

“I’ve seen him two or three times since,” Jeff said. “With Olivia. He seemed smitten—but he did look kinda out of place with that crowd.”

“I’m sure he was. Let’s face it, the kid was a beach bum looking for a lucky break. He found it in Olivia Winters—but somebody had it in for him. Maybe somebody he owed money to—maybe nothing to do with the Winters dame at all…”

“But it does seem strange that he ends up dead shortly after she takes an interest in him. I’m beginning to think your first thought was right—that it was someone who didn’t like his involvement with Olivia.”

J.P. Bowie

100

Nick nodded. “Maybe your buddy McKenna can fill you in after he’s talked with Olivia’s crowd.”

“Yeah, I’ll call him later and see if he’s come up with anything.” Jeff stood and stretched. “Okay, I’m gonna head home. We’re going out with Eve and Fred tonight. You got plans?”

“Uh uh…Just a quiet evening at home with Eric. He said he was cooking up somethin’ special.”

“Tell him ‘hi’, won’t you?”

“Will do. See ya tomorrow.”

“Later.”

Nick pulled into his parking space outside the apartment Eric and he were renting, until they found a more permanent home. He felt a twinge of disappointment on seeing Eric’s space still empty.

“Must be working late,” he muttered, climbing out of his car.

During the year and a half he and Eric had been living together, he’d found it a real source of comfort whenever Eric was home before him. Eric was an innate homemaker, and invariably had lighted candles, soft music and a glass of wine ready when Nick came home at the end of the day. Nick had playfully teased him about it on several occasions, even though he was very touched and warmed by Eric’s thoughtfulness. Now, as he trudged up the steps to the apartment, he felt an emptiness inside, thinking that there would be no welcoming smile and warm embrace waiting for him. Boy, he thought, shaking his head as he fumbled with the door key, who knew I’d become so damned needy after all those years alone after Martin? He’d always thought of himself as a resilient loner after Martin’s death, but then along came Eric and changed all of that…

He pushed the door open and stepped into the darkened apartment, flicking on the light switch as he did so. There on the carpet lay a line of sheets of paper with the outline of a bare foot drawn on each one. They were all headed in the direction of the bedroom, the door to which was closed.

His lips twitched…“Hmm, Eric’s in a playful mood.” The bedroom door was locked.

“Eric?”

“What is the password?” a voice intoned from behind the door.

“Let me in.”

“Wrong…”

“Now!”

“Wrong again…”

J.P. Bowie

101

“Eric Jamieson…” Nick rattled the doorknob impatiently. “Let me
in
.”

“Oh, come on Nick,” Eric whined. “Play along…believe me—it’s gonna be worth it!”

Nick leaned his forehead on the door and sighed. “Okay. The password is…uh, sex…?”

“Wrong…”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Okay, it’s…it’s I love you.”

“And I love you too—but it’s still wrong…”

“Eric…if you don’t open this door right now, I’m gonna break it down and…and spank your behind.”

“You got it…” The door was quickly unlocked and Eric jumped into Nick’s arms. He was naked, save for a very brief pair of shorts. The room smelled of a tantalizing mixture of fragrances none of which Nick recognized, but all of which seemed to increase his sexual desire—or was it simply this hot man he held in his arms and who now showered him with sensual kisses? At that moment, he didn’t care as he propelled Eric across the room and threw him onto the bed.

Eric smiled up at him. “How did you guess the password was ‘spank me’?”

“You drive me crazy,” Nick murmured, before crushing Eric’s lips with his own. Eric wrapped himself around him, pulling at Nick’s shirt and unbuckling his belt with skillful fingers.

“Oh my man, I love you so,” Eric crooned in his ear. “Look what I have for you…”

“I can feel what you have for me,” Nick said huskily, grasping Eric’s erection.

“Wait, wait—something special.” He reached over and grabbed a bottle from the nightstand. “Close your eyes and relax…”

“Relax? After you’ve got me all riled up? Oooh, what’s that?” he whispered as Eric gently massaged something smooth and warm across the ridges of his abdomen and up over his chest. “Oh god, that feels so good…”

“It’s…aroma…therapy…oil,” Eric told him between strokes. “It’s supposed to inflame the animal in you…”

“You do that all by yourself,” Nick said, kissing him. “Give me some of that…”

Eric poured some into the palm of Nick’s hand then lay back as his lover gently rubbed it into the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. He writhed with sensual abandon under Nick’s touch. At the same time he reached for the
J.P. Bowie

102

condom he had tucked under the pillow. Tearing the wrapper with his teeth, he slipped the latex sheath over Nick’s engorged penis.

“Oh baby,” he sighed as Nick entered him with a slow rhythmic motion. He lifted his legs over Nick’s shoulders and gave in to the sheer wanton joy of their joining. His hands caressed Nick’s chest, teasing his nipples, smoothing the residue of the oil deeper into his skin. Nick gasped as he gazed into Eric’s light blue eyes, and a feeling of almost rapturous intoxication overcame him. It was as if love, desire and lust had manifested itself into one incredible sensual sensation. They were not sure what brought them both so quickly to an almost tumultuous orgasm, but as they lay basking in the afterglow of great sex, Nick asked, panting slightly; “Just what’s in this oil, anyway?”

“Essence of Nick,” Eric teased him. “All I need to keep me up all night.”

“First thing in the morning—go order a case.”

c h a p t e r 1 1

s

Olivia kicked off her shoes and sprawled face down on her giant bed. Waves of depression swamped her as she buried her face into the deep pile of the silk comforter that enveloped her.

“Luke, Luke,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. Since the news of Luke’s death, her mind had been consumed with so many conflicting emo-tions.

Anger.
He had meant to betray her, had he not?
Frustration.
She had let herself be duped by him, hadn’t she
? Loss—
she felt so damned alone again—and worse, fear
.
Yes, she had to admit to herself she was afraid. Afraid that whoever had killed Luke meant it as a warning to her.

Could it be those religious crazies? Surely they wouldn’t go so far as to actually kill someone—and why Luke? She rolled over onto her back and gazed at the ceiling above her. Perhaps Luke would never have used those photographs against her. He may have taken the camera in a weak moment, but…after what they had experienced together—surely he could never have sold them to some scurrilous tabloid? No, most likely as Jeff had suggested—he must have forgotten all about the camera and those photographs of her lying dead drunk on the ground.

She was startled from her reverie by the shrilling of the phone by her bed.

Probably Brenda checking up on her, she thought. Sighing, she reached for the receiver. “Hello?’

“Hi Olivia, guess who?”

She recognized the voice immediately. “What the hell do
you
want?”

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?’

- 103 -

J.P. Bowie

104

“Old friend? Old friend?” Olivia’s voice rose in volume. “You no-good-son-of-a…You have your nerve calling me. How did you get this number?

Her caller let out a quiet chuckle. “I still have connections.”

“Well, where are you? As if I care.”

“Closer than you think—and you will care, eventually.”

“Those days are over.”

“Not quite, Olivia. You and me—we’re not through yet.”

“Listen to me, you jerk…you try and screw with me now—I’ll boil your balls in oil!”

“Still the lady, I see…”

“Listen, fool…” Olivia was near breathless as she railed at the caller. “You get the hell out of my life. There’s no more money coming your way—ever.

Got it? Don’t even try asking. You and I are through…”

“I don’t think so…”

“Well, I know so. You had your chance and you blew it.”

“Olivia, you know you’re not over me—you never will be. Having affairs with young studs is no way to forget me and what we had together.”

Olivia could feel her pulses race as she listened to his deep seductive voice.

Yes, she could remember the long lustful nights she’d spent in his arms, the closeness she’d felt, and the love she thought they had shared. Where had it all gone so wrong?

“Is Brenda there?” he asked.

“No.”

“Good. She’d just be blackballing me all over again. It was all her fault you know…”

“You blackmailed me!” Olivia cried, snapping out of her reverie.

“Only because you listened to her and her twisted notion of what happened.

Nothing we did was supposed to hurt you, you know that.”

“But you videoed the whole thing, Brad. You set me up and then blackmailed me.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that…”

“Bullshit! Don’t give me none of that jive. There’ll be no more blackmail.

I’m too big now to be hurt by your wimpy stories. You’re a small time loser—you always were and you always will be. There’ll be no more hand-outs—and you can take that to the bank!” She threw the phone back on its cra-dle and fell back onto her pillow with a loud cry of exasperation.

“God damn him!” A thousand memories crashed in on her as she lay, blinking back tears of anger and frustration. Why had he called her after all this
J.P. Bowie

BOOK: A PORTRAIT OF OLIVIA
12.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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