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“Maybe she forgot,” I say, and he tilts his head, like he thinks I’m crazy.
“You think?” he says.
“It’s possible.”
“Maybe in your head, but if that’s the case, why did they show their hand now?” he asks. “Surely it would have been more sensible to wait until they’d completed their task.”
“You’re assuming it was financial,” I say.
“Are you trying to say it was personal?”
“It feels pretty fucking personal.”
His eyes soften, and he sighs, shaking his head.
“Did they seem to recognize each other?” Ella asks.
“No… I don’t think so. But they’d have had to pretend to be strangers, wouldn’t they? Otherwise, they’d have given themselves away. And if you’re right and I’m wrong, why did she never talk about her father? In the whole time she was here, she mentioned her parents, and talked about her mom, but never said a word about her dad.”
“I imagine she had her reasons.”
“Yeah… like her dad being Ken Bevan.”
“You’re paranoid,” she says. “And you’re being unreasonable.”
I pick up my phone, holding on to it. “Okay then, why did she sleep with me?”
“Ooh… let’s think. Because she liked you? Hell… maybe she even loved you. I don’t know. Like I said, I never met her, but did she seem like someone who’d use sex to get what they want?”
She seemed like the polar opposite. Livia knew nothing about sex. It was one of the most endearing things about her. Her innocence was so beguiling.
“No, she didn’t,” Drew says.
“How would you know?” Ella asks.
“Because, unlike you, I have met her. It might only have been briefly, but in my opinion, she wasn’t experienced enough to know how to use sex… for anything.”
I stare at him, long and hard, hating that he worked that out, although I can’t deny it’s true.
“Drew’s right. Livia wasn’t like that at all.”
Chapter Twelve
Livia
I’ve had a terrible night’s sleep. Actually, that’s not true, because I haven’t slept at all. I’ve spent the night in bed, thinking about everything that happened yesterday. Aside from the discovery that my father isn’t my father, but is a man I’ve never met – at least not until he came into my office yesterday – there’s the secrecy, the lies… and Hunter.
I lost count of the number of times I wished I could call him. I can’t… obviously, because I don’t have a phone anymore. But if I did, I’d call him, even now, in the cold light of dawn. I’d ask him why he did what he did, and said what he said, why he didn’t bother to to talk to me before he threw me out of his office, and out of his life. I’d cry at him, too, and I think I’d also beg him to give us another chance, because I miss him so much.
Sleeping without him is impossible. Knowing I’ll never be held by him, or kissed by him again, is unthinkable.
I get up, going into the bathroom to shower, and then I dress in jeans and a top. I leave my hair to dry by itself and wander into the kitchen. Mom’s sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her, and she looks up as I walk into the room.
“How are you?” she asks.
“Okay.”
“You look like you haven’t slept.”
