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‘So you were just annoyed that I obliged the reporters?’ Olivia surmised. ‘And kissed you to convince them we were dating?’
‘I was annoyed with the whole evening. The conversation, the made-up way we met, our supposedly similar childhoods... I get that we have to do this. I know I agreed. But I don’t like lying.’
Olivia picked up a fork and took a bite of omelette; it was fluffy and golden and meltingly delicious. ‘Mmm. Wow. This is fantastic.’
Ben slid the other half of the omelette onto a plate and joined her at the breakfast bar. ‘Thanks.’
‘So let me guess,’ Olivia said after she’d swallowed. ‘You have a deceitful ex in your past? Some awful woman who lied to you? Cheated? That’s why this little charade is getting up your nose?’
Ben’s eyes flashed again and the corner of his mouth quirked slightly. ‘Don’t you think you’re getting a little personal?’
‘Well, we are supposed to be dating. We should be talking about this stuff.’
‘We could talk about this stuff if we really were dating, but we’re not.’
‘So clearly I touched a nerve.’
He smiled then, properly, and everything in Olivia sizzled. Whoa. Down, girl. ‘No, you didn’t,’ he told her. ‘No deceitful exes.’ He cut his omelette into several neat squares, his gaze lowered. ‘If there was a deceitful person in my life,’ he said after a moment, ‘it was my mother.’
* * *
Now why the hell had he said that? Annoyed with himself, Ben stabbed a bit of omelette with his fork. He didn’t talk about his mom, or his family, or anything. He’d been an incredibly private person since he’d left home at eighteen—which reminded him that he’d told Olivia about that too. What was going on with him?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, and he was surprised she didn’t press. Had he sounded that bitter and angry? That sad? Honestly, he was thirty-two years old. He needed to get over all the crap that had happened when he was a kid. He was over it. It was just having Spencer and James back in his life, being at a Chatsfield hotel again, pretending at a relationship...all of it was raking up the old feelings. Old hurts. Old anger.
‘So tell me how you got into acting,’ he said, and she let out a funny little laugh.
‘Well, I found out at an early age that it’s nicer being someone else than being myself.’ She looked away quickly, and Ben was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to admit so much. Just like he hadn’t.
‘Why don’t you like being yourself?’
She shrugged, clearly trying to be dismissive. ‘It’s not so much now. But back when I was a teenager...’ She shrugged again. ‘I wasn’t very popular in school. A few bright sparks decided to make my life miserable.’ Her gaze slid away from his once more. ‘Losing myself in a role was the best kind of escape.’
‘I can understand that. I suppose it was similar with me and cooking. You find something you’re good at and it helps with whatever life is throwing at you.’
‘Yes, I think it does.’ She took a breath, toying with a forkful of omelette. ‘Actually, it wasn’t just the bullying in school. My mother died when I was twelve and acting was my coping strategy.’
Ben felt a sharp twist of sympathy, surprising him. Olivia Harrington was making him feel things he wasn’t used to feeling. Wasn’t sure he should. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, just as she’d said to him. She nodded jerkily.
‘Thank you. It was tough but I survived.’ She let out a little sigh that made Ben’s insides clench with a weird kind of protectiveness. Whoa. Time to calm down inside. He clearly felt too much for this woman, for her surprising sweetness, her sudden passion, her obvious strength. Yeah, he definitely needed to pull back a little. She looked up, her eyes glinting with unshed tears as she offered him the wobbliest smile he’d ever seen. ‘I still miss her, though.’
Another twist inside, and his resolution to pull back evaporated. ‘Of course you do. Were you close?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded again, staring down at her omelette. ‘Yes. Very much so.’ She let out a shaky laugh and dabbed at her eyes. ‘Sorry, I’m not usually this emotional. It’s late and this has been a hell of a few days.’ She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Sorry.’
‘You don’t have to apologise for getting a little choked up when you talk about your mom dying, Olivia,’ Ben said quietly. ‘How did she die?’
‘Cancer. It was actually pretty quick. A couple of months from diagnosis to...’ She trailed off, shrugging. ‘Well, you know.’
