“And then what?”

  His gaze settled on her face, an odd look crossing his features. “Then I hope to complete a goal that’s been a long time coming.”

  His voice had lowered, the hushed tones making her skin tingle. Or perhaps that been his gaze, which was more like a caress than a stare. “And what’s the goal?”

  “That, I can’t tell you. Not yet. But soon, you’ll hear all about it.” The jovial smile was back and he jostled a gift in his hand, something he’d apparently gotten her for a graduation gift. His gaze dropped to it. “Where can I put this?”

  She pointed to the parlor across from them. “Over there, I suppose.”

  “Ah, right.” He suddenly looked nervous, as if he wanted to be anywhere but there. “I think I’ll go find my parents.”

  He turned to leave, and she pivoted to head up the stairs but stopped when he called her name. When she turned around, the seriousness on his face stunned her.

  “I’m so glad you made it to your goal, that you’ve accomplished this feat. I’m very proud of you, Babycakes.”

  She heard the vile nickname but ignored it; the depth of what he was saying meant too much to her to bring it up. He smiled and sauntered off, leaving her standing there breathless and shocked. Olivia wasn’t exactly sure what that had been about, but her chest ached with the sentiment and tears stung the back of her eyes for some reason. Shaking the sensation off, she wandered back up the stairs, deciding it was better to hide as the guests arrived. Perhaps she could hide the rest of the day. She wasn’t sure anyone would even notice.

  An hour later, her mother found her typing away on her manuscript.

  “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. We were about to serve the cake and couldn’t find you.” Her mother walked closer and saw the open document on the screen. “This is more important than your party?”

  “Your party. I told you I didn’t want one.”

  “Olivia Anne, those people downstairs are here to celebrate your accomplishment. The least you could do would be to spend some time with them.”

  As she stood, her mother also took note her dress was long gone. Maria picked at the edge of her hoodie and wrinkled her nose. “Would it have killed you to stay dressed a little while longer?”

  Olivia rolled her eyes heavenward and tried to collect herself. She didn’t want to go back down, but knew she had to. Her mother would never let her live it down if she didn’t. Moments later, she smiled as they brought the cake. She’d cut into the first slice and took the first bite, a round of cheers going up around her as she did. She tried not to sigh loudly as they all twittered and smiled around her. Her gaze drifted to Liam and she saw the bemused look on his face, as if he knew exactly what was going through her mind. She tried to keep her stare from him for long, afraid he would figure out other things going through her mind as well.

  Soon after they finished the cake, she politely thanked those assembled as she opened one impersonal gift after the other. She knew she shouldn’t be rude, but she almost wished they hadn’t bought her anything at all, but it had been the price of admission to her mother’s party. The guests had been expected to bring something and she was expected to fawn over it, whether she liked it or not. She wished she’d thought ahead of time and asked the families to donate to her favorite charity in lieu of gifts, but she wasn’t used to big parties in her honor, either.

  When she’d received Liam’s gift, she’d gazed at him for a brief moment before she began to tear through the tissue paper it was wrapped in. Her fingers shook and she hoped no one noticed. Once she’d cleared the paper away, she saw the most exquisitely bound leather notebook she’d ever seen. The cover looked like stained glass, shards of color reminding her of the Tiffany lamp in her father’s office. A fine pen was attached to the side, encrusted with crystals that resembled the cover.

  “For you to write down your ideas. Your mother says you spend all day typing away. I thought an old-fashioned notebook might come in handy and get you outside on occasion.”

  Her gaze flew to his and she almost sensed a note of hesitancy in him. It was a remarkably thoughtful gift from a man she hadn’t seen in so long. She looked back over the sterile, benign gifts everyone else had given her. None of these people truly knew her and hadn’t made an effort in the gift giving. She knew it was the thought that counted, but she knew they had only bought the items because it was expected. His gift had been thoughtful and heartfelt. He’d even apparently talked to her mother to find out what she might like. Her gaze returned to the notebook and she felt tears prickle the back of her eyes. She fought to hold the emotion back. “Thank you, Liam. It’s lovely.”

  His smile pierced her heart and made her realize that old crushes never really faded away. She couldn’t imagine why a man like him would never be interested in a woman like her, yet she couldn’t stop the wave of longing she still felt for him. She captured his stare for a moment longer before he turned from her and began talking to her aunt.

  Everyone began to rise around her and either made their way to the door or to the buffet to grab another plate of food, leaving Olivia to feel as if she wasn’t even there. They all drifted away without a word, instead clustering into smaller cliques and couples, and talking to one another. Their laughter flittered around her and felt like slings and arrows to Olivia’s soul. She was forgotten once more, the outsider. She took it as an omen and made her hasty retreat back to the safety of her room, the notebook in her hand. It was the only gift that mattered to her.

  Chapter 2

  Four years later…

  Olivia rocked on the swing, pulling her cardigan up tight as a stiff autumn breeze twirled around her. Dried leaves danced on the air as more of the brightly colored foliage fell from the trees in her backyard. She brought the old dog-eared book closer as she perused the pages of her romance novel. The two young lovers were intertwined in lovemaking, bringing heat to her face … and a few other intimate spots. It wasn’t the first racy romance she’d ever read, but the steamier scenes always made her blush. She hadn’t known that kind of passion the two were engulfed in, but she longed to have that same fire in her own life.

  She lived vicariously through the characters on the page, knowing this kind of relationship wasn’t for her. The few men she’d dated hadn’t wanted the kind of romance she read about in the books that were her guilty pleasure. Heroines didn’t have wide hips, curving stomachs, or ample bosoms. Well, perhaps they did have the ample bosoms, but not along with the first two. It also didn’t help that she walked with a slight limp, a remnant from her fall so many years ago. Her mother told her that it was barely noticeable, but to Olivia, she felt as if that was all anyone could see when they looked at her.

  Another gust swept across her and made her shiver. She put down the book, and her gaze ventured across the lawn, stopping on the tree stump in the middle. Why her mother had never had the gardeners remove it, she’d never know. Maria Owens had been adamant that the tree, which had nearly killed her daughter, be removed from her sight, but now the grayed-out stump was still a reminder of the day Olivia’s life changed forever.

  “Olivia! Come in out of the chill. I’ve made soup.”

  Pulled out of her reverie by her mother’s voice, she stood, stretching a bit before she took her first step. Working out the kinks always seemed to help her get moving easier. Once done, she carefully ambled across the lawn and slipped in the back door, the scents of her mother’s cooking hitting her instantly.

  “You’re going to catch your death out there in the chill, Olivia. Come warm yourself with some lunch.”

  Olivia sat at the kitchen table as her mother set a bowl before her. Without words, she started to eat, spooning the warm liquid into her mouth, knowing her mother was going to begin pressuring her once more. Maria sat down beside her, a bowl for herself in her grip.

  “Did you look over the pamphlet I left for you?”

  Olivia’s stomach turned, even though she’d known it was coming. “Yes, I looked it over.”

  She felt her mother’s expectant gaze on her, but she didn’t want to answer any further.

  “And?”

  “And?” She ladled another spoonful into her mouth to give her mind an extra moment to think. “And … I don’t think I want to do it.”

  “But … this could be life changing for you.”

  “I understand that, but it’s my life. I have the right to choose how I spend it.”

  “You’d rather continue on like … this?”

  Tears prickled the back of her eyes from the sense of rejection. Even though logically she knew her mother meant no slight, she couldn’t push away the sensation she would never be good enough for her mother, no matter what. “Surgery has complications. There’s a chance something could go wrong and I could be paralyzed from the waist down. The doctors told you twenty years ago it was a miracle I was even walking at all. I don’t want to chance it.”

  “Exactly! Twenty years ago. Medicine has changed dramatically in that time. This is your opportunity to have an active life for once.”

  “Active? You mean skinny.” Olivia wanted to bite her tongue as soon as the words came out, her instinctual defensive hackles rising before her brain put a stop to her mouth. Yet she couldn’t help feeling as if she was a disappointment. Her mother was always pushing her, prodding her to do more. Nothing was ever enough.

  Her mother leaned back in her chair, a ghastly look on her face. “Is that what you think? Olivia Anne, I’m not saying that at all. That isn’t what I meant. I love you for who you are.”

  Olivia felt her eyebrow rise, even though she tried hard to avoid the gesture.

  “You sit up in your room writing or out in the garden reading and that’s it. You go nowhere, you have no friends, and you do nothing unless it’s with your father and me. It’s as if you’re a turtle afraid to come out of its shell. I worry about you.”

  “I’m a writer, Mom. It’s what I do.” She took another bite of soup after spitting out a soft, “And … I have friends.”

  “You mean those people on the Internet? Those are not real friends. And what about boys?”

  “Oh, please, Mother, not this again. I’m a grown adult. I wouldn’t date a boy, but a man. And my personal life is just that. Personal.”

  “Personal? More like nonexistent. I’m not getting any younger, nor is your father. I would like to see you start a life before I die. Some grandchildren would be nice too.”

  “You have grandchildren. Both of your perfect children popped a couple out for you.” Olivia’s mind went to her older twin brother and sister. She’d lived in their shadows for much too long.

  “I will not respond to that, as you are as perfect as Anthony and Amelia are in my mind.” Her mother’s glare softened after a moment. “Emily and Trevor graduate high school next year and Yardley started Harvard this fall. My grandchildren are now all young adults. I want babies in the house again. I’m almost seventy. I don’t have much longer.”

  “Don’t guilt me into doing something I don’t want to do. It’s an antiquated idea that a woman must get married and give birth. I want a career before I worry about all that. You come from another generation, Mom.”

  “Antiquated? You want to know what’s antiquated? Your fear of living. This isn’t a life you have; it’s an existence. I’m tired of sitting back and watching you waste what should be the best years of your life, all because of that fall.”

  Her mother’s words struck a nerve, but Olivia couldn’t admit it. “I’m not sure a fear can be considered antiquated.”

  “Will you stop correcting me and listen? If you don’t get your head out of the sand, you’re going to wake up one day and you’ll be fifty, unmarried, with no family, sitting in a dark room typing away on that computer of yours. Your father and I won’t be around to protect you and … that frightens me.”

  “I don’t need a man to protect me. I can do it myself.”

  “You can barely get out the front door.”

  “I leave. On occasion.”

  Her mother’s mouth twisted into a gnarled line, and her glare could have set Olivia on fire had her mother willed it. “I shouldn’t have coddled you. After the fall, I waited on your hand and foot, scared that something else would befall my baby. I’ve done this to you. It’s my fault. Yet I will fix it.”

  “And how do you determine to do that?”

  “Do you know who gave me the pamphlet?” A wicked gleam came into her mother’s eyes. “I’ll give you one guess.”

  Liam. Olivia clenched her teeth as the realization sunk in. It had to be Liam.

  “He’ll be here tomorrow evening for supper. I expect you to be downstairs in one of your nicer dresses, not those old jeans and ratty sweaters you wear around here. I also expect you to be on your best behavior with our guest.”

  “Great.” She wondered if her mother sensed even one third of the sarcasm she’d injected in the word. Liam was the last person she needed to see because she wasn’t sure she could tell that man no.

  Her mother smiled the smile she saved for her charity luncheons, surrounded by the rich and affected. “Perfect, darling. Now finish your soup before it gets cold.”

  * * * *

  Olivia stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom wearing the fifth dress she’d tried on. None of them wanted to fit correctly. She hadn’t a reason to dress up for some time, the last time she’d worn a dress had to have been five years or more. No, that was a lie. She’d worn one under her graduation gown at her college graduation four years before. She began digging for that particular dress from the back of her closet, hoping she could still squeeze into it.

  Luckily, she could. Well, sort of. The black silk was formfitting and showed off everything, but as it seemed to be the only dress she could fit into, it would have to do. And by fit, that may have been a slight exaggeration, but she had all of her body encased and the zipper pulled. Breathing wasn’t necessary all the time, right? Olivia recalled that she’d left her graduation gown on the entire day to hide her body and the way it looked in the dress. Too bad she couldn’t do that again tonight.

  She yanked a cardigan from the closest hanger and covered her body a bit. Another glance in the mirror and she saw the knitted garment only made her look even bigger. She sighed and closed her eyes, the shimmer of tears wanting to slip.

  Why did it have to be Liam?

  She’d had a crush on Liam Palmer since before her fall. He’d been her knight in shining armor when he’d called for help when she’d fallen. His parents had stayed with hers through the ordeal and he’d sat at her bedside, trying to cheer her up once she’d finally awoken. He’d made many visits after that fateful day, checking on her as she’d lain in her cast atop her bed. Liam had been one of the only visitors she’d had other than her family during the nightmare and she’d looked forward to every single one.

  Once he’d gone off to college and med school, she hadn’t seen him again. Not until her graduation four years ago.

  Olivia saw the notebook he’d given her at the party sitting on her desk now. She’d never written a word in it, the gift too precious to use. Moving to it, she saw the light flickering off the carved face, the illumination bouncing off the colored inset. She lifted it, holding it to her chest. Now she was expected to be downstairs, in a dress no less, and entertain the man who had never really released her heart from his grasp. It wasn’t his fault. Other than being a friendly boy who’d made her giggle and smile, he’d never given her any reason to believe there could be more between them. It had been a wishful fantasy in her own mind and she was to blame for not being able to let her childhood dreams go.

  Unease filled her as she looked into the mirror. She knew she wasn’t the type of girl people considered beautiful. Curls the color of hay fell in clumps around her shoulders, vacant, blue-gray eyes stared back at her. Her curving stomach was still visible through the sweater she wore.

  Due to that accident so long ago, she couldn’t be as active as others and her body curved more than her peers who she saw running around the country club in little tennis outfits when she went with her parents. She didn’t fit the standards of beauty. Too bad culture didn’t praise a brain more than a body.

  Ultimately, she’d allowed her past to tie her down when she should shrug it off and move on. She may have been coddled, but she’d allowed her parents to coddle her, too. At any point, she could have stood up on her own and made her way in the world. It was just hard to leave the soft cocoon her parents had made for her, especially as she reached for her dream of being published. She needed to step outside their warm embrace; she knew she did. It was time for her to forge a life for herself and prove she could make it on her own.

  The surgery would make all that so much easier, but fear still held her back.

  “Olivia!” Her mother’s voice drifted from downstairs. Another long sigh and Olivia made her way down the stairs and into the foyer. She heard the deep, rich voice coming from her father’s study before she arrived, and by that, she knew Liam was there. A knot twisted in her stomach as she closed in on the space.

  The twinkling of feminine laughter brought her to a stop outside the archway. She stepped to the edge of the frame, hidden in the darkened recesses of the hallway, and gazed around the corner.

  A beautiful blonde woman stood before her parents, a glass of wine in her hands, laughing at her father. He’d probably told one of his off-color jokes that he didn’t seem to understand were in poor taste, the ones she’d begged him to stop telling. The fact the woman had apparently found it funny was a strike against her. Liam’s arm at her waist was the second. The final nail in the coffin came when she looked up at Liam with glittering eyes and smiled at him.

  Jealousy blasted through Olivia’s chest. She knew she had no right to feel it, but she felt it nonetheless. How many years had she wanted to be in the woman’s place, near him and his embrace, her fingers allowed to stroke his chest as the woman was now doing?