Naked Hope (20 page)

Might catch an earlier flight. Call you the minute I land. Don’t make me wait any

longer…

Her stomach fluttered. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt and checked out her appearance in the mirror. A bit more risqué than her usual style with the tight skirt and open collar. At the moment, she wasn’t feeling particularly buttoned up.

The day flew by. Around three, Jill sat across from her colleague Molly Lauren and tapped Olivia’s report. “So, we agree, she’s successfully completed her probationary period.”

Dr. Lauren nodded. “Her father and grandmother have been an exemplary support system. They’ve appeared for every weekly review and been receptive to taking direction. Olivia has flourished in a curriculum that offers creative freedom. The intellectual stimulus suits her. She shows a definite reduction of emotional stress, her speech is evening out, and she’s easier to understand. This has encouraged her to try much harder to communicate more effectively.

Jill pushed away from the conference table and leaned on one elbow as Dr. Lauren turned the page of Olivia’s report.

“Her team has consistently reported back two areas of concern. We’ll work on them with her new protocol. One is Olivia’s ability to deal with transitions—especially transitioning from one interaction to another. You can see in her numbers, and the reports from her team, she’s not progressing as rapidly in this area.”

“Oh?” Jill frowned, squinting at the data. “Any indication as to why this would be?”

“She tends to dominate situations.” Molly folded her hands. “Because she has difficulty with change—either from one activity to the next or one person to the next—she tries to keep things status quo—to stop the change.”

“I see. And the other?”

Molly turned the page and pointed. “Here, you can see she’s highly creative with her version of events. However, when we compare Olivia’s version to that of her father and grandmother, frequently there’s a significant variance.”

Jill nodded. “Good distinction. Okay, so we’ll focus on establishing appropriate forums for creativity, and understanding the difference between being creative and telling just the facts.” She glanced at the clock that displayed four thirty and jumped to her feet. “Oh, Molly, I didn’t realize the time. I’ve got a five-thirty on the other side of town with my editor.” She crammed a stack of paperwork and her laptop into her case.

“Sure.” Molly nodded. “We’re done here anyway. Where on the other side of town?”

“Manning’s Landing.”

Molly frowned. “You better fly. Meanwhile, this is another big win, Jill.” She patted the stack of student reports. “Really big.”

“For all of us,” Jill called over her shoulder, already at a dead run toward the parking lot. She rolled down the ramp and joined the long line of cars waiting to exit, disappointed she hadn’t heard from Gavin. He must not have caught an earlier flight, after all. She couldn’t wait to tell him Olivia had achieved success and would remain in the program.

Free of the parking ramp, Jill gunned the accelerator. She almost didn’t see Olivia’s little form standing alone in front of the institute, her backpack discarded on the sidewalk a few feet away. More than an hour had passed since school let out. Why was she still waiting for Baines? A closer look and Jill spotted evidence that Olivia was crying.

Chest tight, Jill pulled up in front of the little girl and rolled down the window, “Olivia, what are you doing here?”

Olivia raised her tear-stained face. In a small voice, she said, “Waiting.”

“Waiting for whom?”

“My Dad.”

“Your father?” Jill glanced around. Something wasn’t right. “Doesn’t Baines usually pick you up?”

“Yes.” Olivia nodded. “But Dad was picking me up today and take me to hear the orchestra.”

“Really?” The back of Jill’s neck prickled. This couldn’t be right. Gavin hadn’t even landed yet. And he’d never take Olivia to a rehearsal. Was this an example of Olivia’s ‘creative’ version of events?

Still, Baines hadn’t picked her up.

“Here.” She pointed to the back seat. “Hop in while we figure this out. Why haven’t you called Baines?”

Olivia climbed in and ducked her chin. “I did. He’s not there.”

Jill dug in her purse for her cell phone and then squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, remembering she’d left it in her office.

“May I borrow your cell? What about your grandmother?” she asked, reaching for Olivia’s phone.

Olivia shook her head, tears starting again.

Jill dialed Gavin first, just in case Olivia had the arrangements right. His phone went straight to voice mail. Next, she tried Baines but got his voice mail. She tried the Fairfield residence, and once again, the call rolled to voice mail. Finally, she tried Edith but got only her voice mail. Frustration warred with determination. Jill twisted and said, “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do—I’ll just make a quick call to cancel my meeting across town, and then I’ll take you home.”

Olivia threw herself hard against the seat. “No, no. I want to see my dad.”

Jill reached between the seats and patted Olivia’s knee. “I don’t think your dad is back from New York yet.”

Olivia rocked back and forth. “He is. We talked.”

Jill’s eyebrows shot up. “You talked with him?”

“Yes.” She pointed to the phone in Jill’s hand. “He promised me I could hear the orchestra.”

This couldn’t possibly be right. Gavin would never do that…Would he?
Her stomach knotted. She briefly closed her eyes and willed her stomach to relax, then Jill checked Olivia’s phone. Sure enough, Gavin had called her just before noon. But that could have been about anything. Unconvinced, Jill said, “Well, I still think it’s best to take you home—”

Olivia rocked harder. “No. I want to see my Dad. He’s at the hall.”

Confused, Jill clarified, “Orchestra Hall?”

“YES,” she shouted.

In a few moments, she’d be next to unmanageable. Jill sighed. “All right, Olivia. Let’s go and check it out.”

Wedged between layers of cars, for Jill time crawled. When they drove into the Orchestra Hall parking lot, Jill spotted Gavin’s black BMW parked in the spot reserved for
Conductor
. For the first time in ten weeks, a tiny niggling of doubt scratched at the pit of her stomach. How could he have had such poor sense as to invite Olivia to listen to the orchestra? Jill’s rapid high-heeled steps rang in her ears as her feet trod across the unforgiving tiled corridor, echoed by the flat falls of Olivia’s tennis shoes. They stopped in front of the rehearsal room.

Jill reached for Olivia’s hand and caught her back out of the way just as an angry-looking Adrienne pushed through the doorway.

She swept them with a bold gaze that bordered on contempt, her expression oscillating between anger and amusement. The door hissed closed behind her. “Why, Dr. Cole, what are you doing here?”

Jill attempted an even smile. “Hello, Adrienne. We’re here to see Gavin.”

Adrienne’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, but this rehearsal is closed.” She held out her hand.

Jill recognized Gavin’s cell phone.

“When he’s serious about no interruptions, he turns over custody of this—” she tapped the phone, “—to me.”

“Not to worry,” Jill heard herself say. “We’re here by invitation.”

Adrienne stepped into their path. “You must be mistaken. He specifically said no visitors.”

Jill advanced, pulling Olivia with her. “I’m sure family doesn’t fall under the heading of visitors. Come,” she whispered to Olivia.

“No. No. No.”

Gavin’s outburst grated against her ears, and she tensed.

“You, there.” He jabbed his baton violently in the direction of the violin section. “You were half a beat behind. Yes, yes. I mean you. Let’s take it from rehearsal number sixty-eight again. Just the violins, please. And, this time,” his voice stretched tight, “try to follow my beat.”

On the upbeat, Gavin swung in their direction. His gaze slammed into Jill’s. He waved the orchestra to a halt.

The first note from the violins died instantly.

“Take five, everyone.”

Chapter Sixteen

Gavin’s right hand still held the baton at a downward angle. His other hand raked through his hair in a careless gesture, which Jill found effortlessly sensual even in this moment of obvious agitation.

His gaze darted to Olivia, and his body stiffened. With a deliberate movement, he set down his baton and waited as the orchestra shuffled out.

The regal Adrienne sailed back into the rehearsal room, moving against the orchestra members like a salmon swimming upstream, and inserted herself between Gavin and Jill. “Gavin, we have to talk. For heaven’s sakes, what were you thinking inviting

” she broke off, pointing to Olivia and Jill. “We’re already too far behind schedule.”

Gavin’s eyes flashed and he pointed to the door. “Not now, Adrienne.” He turned to Jill and Olivia. “You’re
here
? But why would you—why did you come
here
?” He glanced at his watch and swallowed hard. “I hadn’t realized the time.”

“But, Gavin

”

“Dammit, Adrienne, I said
later
.”

Turning to Jill, he said, “I’m sorry we ran long. That must be why you would come
here
…looking for me.” His gaze raked over her and shifted to Olivia.

The doors opened and the orchestra filed back in.

Gavin stretched his neck and twisted his head from side to side. “Look, we’re almost done. I just need a few more minutes. Wait for me in the office? Adrienne will show you.”

Olivia spotted a handful of vacant chairs, raced over, and threw herself into one. “I want to stay and hear the orchestra.”

Jill and Gavin exchanged looks. She walked over, reached for Olivia’s hand, and led her from the room.

A sulky Adrienne pointed the way to the office.

Olivia hurled herself against the utilitarian-looking sofa, crossed her arms, and sat like a statue.

“Tell me about school today,” Jill invited.

Olivia clamped her mouth shut.

Jill’s pager vibrated. She reached into her jacket pocket, frowned at the number, glanced at her watch, then at Olivia, walked over to the credenza and dialed the phone. “Dr. Cole. I was paged.”

After a moment she heard Molly Lauren’s voice. “I’ve got bad news. One of our students, Julie Hill, has had an accident. I thought you should know as soon as possible. I know you’ll want to meet with her team and work out changes to her protocol.”

Jill bit her lip, concerned for girl, and stared at the toes of her favorite high heels.
What else could go wrong today?
“Are her injuries serious?”

Molly sighed. “They’re saying she’ll be fine but the poor thing is in a lot of pain. This will cause a delay in her program. We need a plan ASAP to keep this from affecting the trial.”

“Thanks, Molly. Will you round up her team as soon as you have her doctor’s official prognosis, and let me know what they recommend? I’m in the middle of something but am available by phone if you need me.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve got this one. I just wanted to keep you apprised. I’ll be in touch with an update.”

She clicked off and saw that Olivia no longer occupied the sofa.
Damn.
Jill sprinted toward the rehearsal hall, and turned the corner just in time to see the rehearsal door close behind Olivia. As quietly as she could, Jill entered and scanned the room.

Olivia sat off to the side, watching the orchestra, her face soft with wonder.

Jill sat next to her, rather than to make a scene over removing her.

Gavin reminded her of a musical warlock enchanting them all with his melodic spell. The hall seemed to expand to make room for each note as the maestro leaned into one section, then another, his baton moving in exacting arcs. Jill would have lost herself in the moment if she hadn’t such great empathy for the violin section with whom Gavin was not yet entirely pleased. She couldn’t stop from cringing when he jammed his baton at the cellist.

When the orchestra stopped, Jill let out a long breath, as if she'd been holding it for some time.

Olivia sighed, unequivocal reverence in her eyes. Gone were the shadowy, doubtful eyes, the pouting mouth and inattentive tilt to her head. Brightly alert, she leaped from her chair and threw herself into Gavin’s arms.

As he gazed down at his daughter, Gavin froze. Then, as if in slow motion, he circled his arms around her and closed his eyes. Without releasing her, he said. “Good work, everyone. That’s it for today.”

Olivia squirmed out of her father’s arms and ran over to the piano. She pulled out the bench and cried, “I can do it, Dad. Listen.” Her fingers pounded against the keys, producing a jagged jarring that in no way resembled music. Olivia stopped, shoulders hunched, and looked at her father.

With slow steps, Jill walked to the piano, lifted Olivia's hands from the keyboard, and held them. With quiet authority, she said, “That’s fine, Olivia.”

“Liv.” Gavin’s voice was strangled. “Sonny’s going to work the lights. I know how you like to help him. Why don’t you go with him for a few minutes?”

Olivia lifted her head, mouth downturned, her big eyes wet with tears.

Gavin gave Sonny a brief nod while the technician took Olivia’s hand.

The little girl looked little more than a shadow as they walked out of the room.

Jill studied Gavin, who jammed his hands in his pockets and turned away.

After a moment, he said, “Shall we go?”

She blinked rapidly. Had she heard him correctly? “Go?”

Gavin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Jillian. This isn’t the start I’d imagined for our reunion. I intended to hand off the rehearsal to Harper at four so I’d be there before you and Olivia arrived. But, I lost track of the time. I guess it’s why you came here looking for me, yes?”

Jill took both his hands in hers. “Tell me why you thought I would meet you.”

His eyes closed. Jaw stiff, he said, “When I left the messages asking you to pick up Liv and meet me across the street at
La Mantra’s
for an early dinner, I never thought you might not want to. Was I wrong?” Gavin’s jaw ticked. “Jillian, I just don’t quite understand why you’d bring Liv
here
, of all places.”