Picture Perfect (Butler Island) (28 page)

Grant exited the gift shop and
boarded the elevator with a large bouquet of pale pink roses in hand.
Reluctantly, he’d left the hospital last night at the urging of Olivia’s nurse.
Olivia was only allowed one overnight guest, and he wasn’t about to ask Ty to
forfeit his privileges. He’d been told that visiting hours would resume at nine
o’clock sharp the following morning and as he glanced at his watch, he
acknowledged he was right on time.

The elevator opened to the second
floor and Grant pointed his feet toward the extended corridor that led to
Olivia’s room. He thought back to the last time he’d been here, the morning
after her first attack. He hadn’t known what to expect then—knew only that she’d
been badly injured.

He’d been reeling from the incredible
evening he’d had with her when Ty had phoned him that morning. Back then, he
didn’t have a face to direct his anger toward; now he did:
Jarrod fucking
James!

Why hadn’t he put two and two together
sooner? It made perfect sense now: James’ multiple absences from poker night,
his frequent trips to the
dog track just
outside of Pensacola, his prompt arrival to every fire—and let’s not forget—his
fascination with Olivia
.

Jarrod had torched thousands of
dollars worth of private property and had nearly killed Olivia in the process…

 Over gambling debts.

 Grant shook his head as the
realization sunk in. He would have gladly loaned the money to Jarrod had he
known how desperate he was to get his hands on it.

Luckily, Jarrod had been apprehended
last night; charged with seven counts of arson and two counts of aggravated
battery.

Sedating his lungs with a gallon of
oxygen, Grant nudged the door to Olivia’s room open…

 The room was empty and from the
looks of it, it had been for some time.

 Retracing his steps, he moved toward
the nurses’ station and caught the attention of a kind,
elderly R.N. “Excuse me, has Olivia Everitt been moved? I just went to
the room she was in last night, but it was empty.”

“The cute lil’ blonde with that nasty
gash on the back of her head?” she questioned.

“That’s the one.”

“She checked herself out against Dr.
Conrad’s orders—”

“—When?”

“Oh, I don’t
know—three—maybe four hours ago.”

A peculiar phenomenon had washed over
him; after meandering through the hospital parking lot in search of his truck,
he’d had what could only be described as an “out-of-body experience.” He
vaguely remembered the drive to Ty and Olivia’s. It was almost like he was
hovering above his body, like his mind was completely detached from his
physical self. He couldn’t say for certain which route he’d taken or how long
he’d been on the road. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was sitting
behind the wheel of his oversized Ford pick-up, idling in Ty and Olivia’s
driveway.

After exiting his truck, he drifted
toward the front door and pounded on the dense wood with his fist.

“What the hell’s going on?” he
demanded as Ty answered the door. “I just left the hospital and they said she
checked herself out!”

“Good morning to you, too, bro”, he
uttered sarcastically. “Have a seat; we need to talk.”

Ah, hell, this
couldn’t be good, Grant acknowledged. He knew Ty wasn’t happy about his
relationship with Olivia. He expected Ty’s anger and disappointment
: it wasn’t
exactly breaking news that his best friend was furious at him for secretly
dating his little sister. But what he soon realized, after situating himself on
the red leather sofa, was that Ty’s anger and disappointment was no longer
directed at him: it was now focused on Olivia.

“So, you just left the hospital,
huh?” Ty asked nonchalantly as he blew into his steaming coffee mug.

“Yeah—what the hell’s going on? Where
is she?” Grant demanded.

“Gone.”

“Gone?—
what do you
mean
?”

“Liv got a call just after midnight
from one of her photographer friends. Apparently, there was a
ski lift collapse at a resort in Northern New
Hampshire.
She… jumped at the chance to photograph it.”

“She’s in no condition to travel—why
didn’t you try to stop her?”

Ty took a sip of coffee and nearly
choked as he stifled a laugh. “Are you
serious?
You know Liv—she doesn’t
take orders very well; ‘bout the only way I could’ve made her stay was have the
hospital staff strap her to her bed!”

Grant leaned forward, resting his
elbows on his lap. Ty was right. But that didn’t make the news of her sudden
disappearance any easier. “Alright, so when will she be back?”

“Yeah, that’s the thing—I’m not
really sure when or
if
she’s planning on coming back.”

“Cut the bullshit, bro—what do you
mean
if?”

Ty exhaled a puff of air and set his
coffee mug on the adjacent glass end table. “Before she left, she asked me to
visit her in New Orleans for New Year’s… January second is her birthday…”

Grant slid the palm of his hand down
the contours of his face, but his frustration still remained. “No offense”, he
uttered softly, “but your sister drives me fucking crazy sometimes.”

“None taken.”

“I just don’t get it. Why would she
just up and leave like that?—without even saying goodbye?”

Rising from his seat, Ty sauntered
toward the bar and reached for Olivia’s portfolio. “She left in such a hurry,
she forgot this. I think you’ll find your answer in here”, he clarified as he
gently tossed it toward Grant.

“What’s this?—her diary or
somethin’?” Grant questioned.

“Well, sort of: she calls it her
personal
portfolio
. Take a look.”

Opening the album, Grant stared at an
all-American family: The Everitt’s. The beautiful little girl sitting on her
father’s lap, gazing into the camera without a care in the world…

Turning the page, he came upon two
newspaper clippings: one that depicted the tragic accident that ended the lives
of Olivia’s parents, and the obituary that’d reduced their lives to a tiny paragraph.

He continued through the book,
skimming over various achievements, milestones, and significant moments from
her past. It intrigued him that a child who’d lost her parents could rebound
and grow into such a fascinating young woman. But then again, that was Olivia:
strong willed, tenacious, courageous. And oh-so beautiful.

Turning the page, he stumbled upon a
newspaper article from
The New Orleans Tribune,
dated July of last year:

Local
Respected Dentist Refused to Smile in

Scandalous
Mug Shot.

“What’s this?”
he questioned as he gestured toward the article
.

“Remember when I took some time off
last year to visit Liv in New Orleans?” Ty asked as he reached for his
forgotten coffee mug.

“Yeah—Fourth of July, right?”

Ty settled in the red leather club
chair wedged in the corner of the room and took a sip of his now tepid coffee.
“Yeah, it was. But I wasn’t in town to watch the city’s fireworks display… Liv
needed me.”

“She’d gone on this blind date with a
well-known dentist: well-known for his talent as well as his good looks.
Anyhow, the guy was a real Casanova: took her to a classy French Quarter
restaurant; ordered a bottle of expensive red wine; said all the right things…”

Shifting a bit in his seat, Ty went
on. “She realized she’d probably had too much to drink. She excused herself
from the table and went to the ladies room, hoping that a wet paper towel on
her face and neck would sober her up a bit… He… followed her into the restroom
and snuck up behind her. And then—”

“He didn’t—”

“No”, Ty confirmed, “He didn’t get
the chance, thank God. Some drunk guy stumbled into the wrong bathroom and
interrupted the bastard… The dentist was arrested that evening and several days
after the news became public, four other women came forward with similar
stories…”

Grant sat motionless for several
moments as the details from yet another tragic event in Olivia’s life sunk in.
How much hardship could a person endure before they broke in two?

“Liv built a wall after that. She was
heavily guarded before that night, but after…?” Ty shook his head. “Sometimes I
wondered if she’d ever allow anyone to get close to her again… Then she met
you.”

“Me?” Grant asked incredulously.

“Yeah”, Ty
answered on a sigh, “turn the page.”

Gently sliding his fingertips beneath
the upper right-hand corner of the thick cardstock, he turned the page, smiling
at one of his fondest memories: chasing after Olivia on the beach earlier last
month. He hadn’t noticed the first time she’d shown him this picture, but he
clearly saw it now: pure felicity.

At that moment in time, her mind was
free; free from the memories that’d haunted her; unshackled from the weight of
her burdens; content.

“I figured the two of you were just
hangin’ out—messin’ around. I had no idea how serious it was… She only adds the
most significant things to this album—the good and the bad—and when I saw this
picture, I knew.”

“Knew what?” Grant inquired.

“She’s in love with you.”

Grant closed the portfolio and placed
it on the couch beside him. Resting his elbows on his lap, he brought his hands
to his face and tented his fingertips together into a point. “Don’t be
ridiculous—she doesn’t love me. She fucking left without so much as a goodbye
and apparently has no intention of coming back!”

“Have you heard a damn thing I just
said?” Ty asked as he rose from his chair. “She loves you and that scares the
piss out of her because every person she’s ever cared about has abandoned her
in some way or fashion—
me included!
The wittiness and tough-girl
exterior are nothing more than a defense mechanism: a façade. Because
truthfully, inside, she’s still that vulnerable and terrified nine year old
little girl I picked up eighteen years ago…”

Running his fingers through his hair,
Grant expelled a puff of air from his lungs before meeting
Ty’s curious gaze. “So what am I supposed to do
now?”

Ty shrugged his shoulders.
“Depends—do you love her?”

“More than anything”, he uttered
softly.

Ty smiled in spite of himself. It was
clear how Olivia felt about Grant, and after talking with his best friend, Ty
was convinced that Grant felt the same way for her. Although he was still upset
that they’d gone behind his back, he couldn’t fault the guy for loving her. And
he certainly couldn’t allow her stubbornness to stand in the way of her
long-awaited fairytale ending.

“Here’s whatcha do—I have a plan…”

CHAPTER 23

It’d been two days since Olivia had
come home to New Orleans; two days since her friends had practically hauled her
to the French Quarter to celebrate the end of one year and the beginning of the
next.

She’d been standing in front of
Jackson’s Square, surrounded by thousands of tourists and locals. And the irony
of the situation: she’d never felt more alone. She’d managed to make it all the
way ‘til ten-thirty that evening, and then lied to her friends about not
feeling well. Thirty minutes later, a taxi had dropped her off in front of the
guest house she rented in the Garden District.

She’d missed the colorful firework
display over the mighty Mississippi River; had instead watched the ball drop
from Times Square on TV. Alone.

Completely alone.

She was so afraid—petrified—of love.
Allowing herself to be happy could only result in disaster—
always had—probably always would. She had accepted
it a long time ago; had conceded that she’d never experience “happily ever
after.” And the funny thing was: she’d been
okay
with it.

Until Grant.

Now she understood what she was
missing out on—what she was depriving herself of…

Grant deserved better. He deserved
the kind of woman who could open up and give all of herself to him. He deserved
the kind of warmth and contentment she wasn’t capable of giving.

Her insides were contorted like a
Cirque Du Soleil performer. God, she missed him. Missed the sound of his
laughter; the intoxicating masculine scent of his skin; the intensity of his
ice-blue eyes when they were focused on her…

But this was for the best. Better to
endure the unbearable heartache now; there was no need to postpone the
inevitable…