12. Oliver

Chapter 12

Oliver

I was suddenly jolted back into the past at Lexie's words, and it washed over me like a tidal wave.

My father had told me something unthinkable. I didn't believe it, not for a minute, but I had to talk to her all the same.

I needed to see her. I wanted to prove my father wrong. I knew he hadn't ever liked Lexie, but he wouldn't lie to me about her and my best friend.

But I saw them, sitting together at the bar, laughing. I saw red. I barely knew what I was doing. I felt myself hitting Tristan, but I didn't know I was going to do it. Everything felt like a bad dream, a nightmare.

I looked up at Lexie, my eyes wide and wet.

"Tristan? It had to be Tristan?"

"What the hell are you talking about, Oliver?" Lexie hissed, pulling at my arm, sniffling out a sob.

"You're sleeping with my best friend!" I yelled, wrenching away from her, and standing up to face her, ignoring Tristan even though part of me wanted to strangle him.

This wasn't really about Tristan. This was about me and Lex, and what we had. What we used to have.

"Oliver, what are you…" she started, but I couldn't listen to any more of her lies.

I had stalked away, and that was the last time I'd spoken to either of them until recently.

I blinked away the memories to find Lex looking up at me with wide green eyes.

"My dad told me about you two," I told her, trying not to feel the old resentment. I felt sick, just like I had that day.

She scowled. "Why did your dad dislike me so much?" she muttered. Her eyes locked onto mine again. "Also, you knew he didn't like me. Would it have been so hard to imagine that he might not have had your best intentions in mind when he told you that?"

"It's water under the bridge," I finally said, pushing all of the thoughts, memories, and heartaches away. "I forgive you."

"That's the thing, Oliver. It's not. You're still angry, you still haven't apologized… to me or to Tristan. It's not water under any bridge because you aren't over it," she scoffed, and of course, she was right, but I didn't want to talk about this any more.

God help me, despite everything, I wanted her back in my life. I needed her around, needed her near me, and last night only proved that. Waking up this morning without her, thinking she might have run away again... I couldn't handle that.

I needed her.

"Why did you leave this morning? "

"I didn't want your kid to find me in the house," she muttered.

I nodded. "Fair enough."

"I also need to look for jobs," she said.

"You have a job," I insisted.

"Yes, and I'm grateful for it," she said, then paused with a sigh. "It's part time, Oliver, and I'll never make enough money to get out of Wagontown if I don't get a second job."

"You're going to leave Wagontown again?"

She stared at me incredulously. "Of course I am, Oliver. It's not like this place is full of great memories for me. I just want to get the hell out of here. Also, there's no way for me to make a living here, if you haven't noticed. I can't even pay you rent. "

My heart sank. She was going to leave me all over again, and I didn't know how I was going to handle it.

I assumed not well.

"You always wanted to get out of Wagontown," I muttered.

"We never would have made it together anyway," she said in a soft voice, and my head was spinning.

How could she say that? I had planned to marry her, have a family with her. Even now, I still wanted her, though I didn't know in what capacity that was possible.

In the meantime, however, if I could get her a job and keep her near me...

"Why don't you work for me?" I suggested. Lexie looked at me, blinking.

"Work for you? Like as an assistant or something?"

I chuckled. "Nothing like that." I already had an excellent assistant. "I'm buying a bar, and you could work there."

"Oh, Richy-rich," she teased, a smile on her face. "Must be nice to be able to just buy a bar. "

I shrugged. "So will you do it?" I asked her.

"What, work as a bartender?"

"It's a living," I argued, and she took in a breath.

"You're right. I'm not going to turn up my nose at it. I'll take the job."

She stuck out her hand for me to shake, and I shook it, smiling.

Things seemed to be looking up.

"Promise me one thing," I said, leaning down to her ear.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up into my eyes.

"No more running," I said firmly. "When you're ready to leave, talk to me first. Let me know you're going."

She was quiet for a long moment, but then finally nodded.

"All right. No more running."

I nodded back, slowly moving toward the door, hoping against hope she'd stop me, kiss me, but she didn't. She just looked away and started making herself coffee.

"I'll get you some more information about the job at the bar," I said awkwardly.

She nodded, barely glancing at me. "Cool."

Cool? I sighed. We were back to square one on the intimacy front. I hated that, but there wasn't anything I could do about it right now.

As I walked back up the hill to my place, I thought about how I was already in too deep.

I needed to back off, not continue jumping in.

But instead, I found myself pulling out my phone, calling Clayton. We'd been in talks about the Pig for a while, but I'd never had a reason to pull the trigger.

Until now.

"Hello?" Theresa, his wife, answered.

"It's Oliver Stanhope," I said quietly into the phone, letting myself out the back door. "I was hoping that we could meet up today. Finally sign the papers."

I could feel her hesitation through the line. "I don't know, Oliver. We've received another offer?—"

"I'll double it," I said firmly, hearing a surprised gasp on the other end of the line.

"Double it? You don't even know what it is!"

"Doesn't matter. You know I can cover it."

"All right. Come on over then, I'll get everything printed out."

"Be there in an hour."

I hung up the phone, then hurried upstairs to dress simply in a button-up shirt and a pair of black jeans. I didn't need a three-piece suit to close on the purchase of a dive bar, and besides, Clayton's wife, Theresa, and I knew each other. She knew my family and had been friends with my mother.

When I arrived at the Pig, she met me at the door.

"How's your mom?" she asked quietly, and I took in a deep breath. I knew that Theresa must know what a hard time my parents were having, how they'd split up recently. They hadn't mentioned the word "divorce" yet, but it seemed to hang heavy in the air every time I was around them. I couldn't get them in the same room together, not anymore.

"She's hanging in there," I muttered, not wanting to speak much on that subject. Thankfully, Theresa seemed to understand, simply nodding before sliding a file folder across the bar to me.

"Can I get you a beer?"

"Any kind of ale, please," I replied. She poured me a pint that I barely sipped while looking over the contract.

It seemed straightforward, but I knew my lawyer, Andrew Taylor, would want to have a look at it before I signed anything. I also knew he'd try to talk me out of it. He kept saying that bars were money pits, but I begged to differ. I'd seen the markup on shots of liquor and wholesale prices, and I thought it would be a great secondary income.

Besides, if it didn't work out, I was only out a couple million. I had plenty more in various bonds, properties, and in my bank account. I'd done well for myself, so why shouldn't I indulge this little bar-owning fantasy?

I asked Theresa to email me the contract so I could forward it to my attorney.

"Clayton is okay with this?"

"As long as you go by his rules and don't fire any of his staff."

"Of course."

She shrugged. "Then he's good to go."

"Where is he, anyway?"

Theresa grinned. "He should be packing."

"Packing?"

"We're going to the Bahamas."

I couldn't help but grin. If anyone deserved it, it was them.

Once I received notification from Andrew that the contract was legit and good to sign, I called a mobile notary, and by the time lunch rolled around, I was the proud owner of The Pig in the Poke.

Theresa shook my hand.

"Say hello to your mother for me."

I nodded, knowing I'd do exactly that. I'd talked to Mom about buying the bar, and she thought it would be a good investment. Besides, I hadn't seen her at all since Lex came back into my life. She knew what happened all those years ago. She'd understand .

Trent was with her so I might as well pick him up. This was all the work I was going to do today anyway; everything else would be handled by my assistant and the board. It was nice to be able to make my own hours, although I usually worked too much for comfort.

Maybe that could change now that I had the bar. I could work there, instead, spend some time away from the business I'd worked so hard to build. It could help me avoid burnout, for sure.

I didn't buy a bar just to employ Lexie. Did I?

When I arrived at Mom's, I expected Trent to come running out when he saw my car pull up, but he didn't. Mom came to the door, smiling.

"He's in the backyard with the neighbor boy. They're skipping rocks out at the creek."

I smiled. That sounded like exactly what I wanted Trent to be doing all summer. I wanted him to make friends, branch out, stop being so attached to me. It wasn't that I didn't love his sweetness and snuggles, but I didn't want him to be lonely when school started back up.

He'd had a hard time adjusting to preschool, and I worried that kindergarten would be even worse.

"How old is the neighbor boy?" I asked, and Mom shrugged.

"Six, seven. He's about the same size as Trent, though."

"He's a big kid."

"Just like you always were," she said, beaming at me. She looked tired.

"Mom, can we talk?" I asked quietly. She raised an eyebrow, her brown eyes widening .

"Of course, Oliver. Anytime."

"I'll make us some coffee," I suggested.

"Decaf for me," she pointed out, putting a hand to her heart. I winced. It reminded me that she had been diagnosed with an arrhythmia that could prove dangerous. My parents were both getting up there in years, and it was scary, all the health issues that had popped up lately.

I made us each a cup of instant, decaf for her, and sat down at the table across from her.

"Something on your mind, son?" she asked, her eyes wrinkling around the corners as she gave me a small frown.

I sighed. "A lot of things, really." I paused. "I went ahead and bought that tavern downtown."

"Tess' place? Oh, that's wonderful," she gushed. Tess was Theresa's nickname. "Your father and I...." she trailed off.

I cleared my throat, not sure if I should push.

"Go on."

"Your father and I had our first dance there," she said softly.

"Mom, why don't you talk to him? I know he'd love to hear from you," I suggested gently.

Her face hardened. "We're not here to talk about me and your dad. We're here to talk about you. What's going on, Ollie?"

She was right. I was deflecting. There was a lot on my mind.

"Lex is back in town."

"I know you don't mean Alexandra Tripp," she said flatly.

"That's exactly who I mean," I said, rubbing a hand across my face. "She's staying in my cabin. "

My mother looked at me curiously, tilting her head. "How do you feel about that?"

"I..." I paused, trying to find the words. "I don't know."

She hummed in the back of her throat, sipping her coffee. "Why is she staying at your cabin? Doesn't she have family? Her sister still lives in town, from what I remember."

"They don't exactly get along," I mumbled. I wasn't quite sure what was going on between Lex and Gillian, but I knew that Lexie didn't want to be a burden to her.

"And it's your responsibility to take care of her? After everything?" Mom's voice was only a little icy. She knew the full story, but she had always loved Lex, always wanted the best for her. Even though she'd hurt me, I didn't think my mother hated her.

"It's not my responsibility, but it's... it's been years. It's over. Water under the bridge."

"Is that how you really feel, Ollie?"

"Yes," I said quickly, knowing it was a lie, guilt burning hot at the back of my mind.

She smiled. "Well, you've always been a good guy. I know you'll do the right thing."

The right thing .

What was that, exactly?

"What if I don't know what that is, Mom?"

She spread her hands out. "None of us ever really do," she said. "Most of the time, everything in life is an educated guess."

I smiled at her. "Rolling the dice over and over, I guess."

She nodded. "Sometimes you get lucky, is the thing," she said with a wink.

"Sometimes you don't," I said in a sober tone of voice .

"But it's the risk that makes it all worth it," she replied with a knowing look, patting my hand.

I smiled at her. Everything with Lexie always felt high-stakes, exciting, worth doing. Maybe that was why I just couldn't let her go, even though I had truly wanted to a time or two.

It was just that so much of my life was predictable, easy, reliable. Even parenting wasn't usually all that exciting because my kid was easy to take care of. I realized abruptly that Lexie gave things life, and color, and made stuff fun for me. I hadn't experienced much of that since she left.

How had I missed that before?

My head was all over the place as I drove Trent home and put him to bed. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Even right up to when I closed my eyes that night to go to sleep, I was thinking about Lexie.

I wanted her to stay in Wagontown. For good.

What that meant for me, I didn't know.