Page 32 of The Cost of Love

“Send her through.” I sit back in my seat, slouching into a more comfortable position for what is likely going to be a long conversation.

“Alex!” she says, her voice high-pitched and bright.

“Liv.”

“What are you doing?” I can hear the TV in the background blaring some reality TV show with two women yelling insults at each other. I sigh, and it’s enough for her to know to pause it.

“I am at work. What else would I be doing?”

“Come visit. I am on bed rest because the doctor is worried about my blood pressure. You would think I was running marathons with the way he is fretting. In actuality, I can barely walk without this big belly always getting in the way.” Having inherited our mother’s ability to put people in their place with a look alone, I am sure the situation must be more dire than she is implying if she couldn’t bully him into letting her stay on her feet.

“I will after work. You are following his orders, right?” Worry nestles into my chest at the idea of something happening to her.

“Yes, yes, but I am driving everyone crazy. You grew up with me, so you are used to my difficult nature. Come now and keep me company. Please,” she whines.

I sit up and look at my calendar to check if I have any pressing matters to address today. Seeing that my day is clear to work on this quarter’s budget report, I decide I can finish it tonight. I tell her I will be there in thirty minutes, and immediately give orders to Ms. Welch to forward my calls to my cell.

When I use my key to enter Liv’s townhouse, I can hear her before I see her. She is yelling at the TV show she is watching, making sure the empty house is privy to all her opinions. I open the bedroom door to see that she is perched in the middle of the bed with pillows all around her. To the left is a tray of all her favorite snacks.

“You’re here!” she screams, trying to get up.

“No, sit. I’ll come to you.” I slide onto the bed on her right side and pull her into a half-hug.

She moves over, making room for me to sit more comfortably.

“Do you want to know something interesting?” The smile she gives is both brilliant and mischievous. She lifts one eyebrow in question while she waits for me to answer.

Even though she is seven months pregnant, she looks so beautifully put together. Dressed as if she had somewhere to go, she even curled her blonde hair. We look so alike, the only differentiating feature other than our sex is her brown eyes. They gleam with barely leashed amusement.

“Always,” I say, wondering what tidbit she has to offer.

Despite the fact that we went to different boarding schools, she was able to keep me up on all the gossip of both of them throughout my entire stay. Even blacklisted, I wouldn’t be surprised if she is still in the know about everyone.

“Mother called.” Her joy is so exuberant that it stops me from letting her in on the fact that I coerced her to do it.

It’s easy to fake my surprise, as I genuinely didn’t think our mother would actually follow through with her end of the bargain so soon. The happiness it brings Olivia is enough to make me want to keep my side of the deal.

“What did she say?”

“Well, she asked how I was doing, and when I am due. I think she might actually come to the hospital.”

“Please don’t get too excited about that. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“Why would I be disappointed? You are going to convince her to come, just like you convinced her to call. Also, we are getting lunch this week to catch up.” Too smart for her own good, she has figured me out. Still, I try to deny it.

“Oh, stop, I know this was because of you. She spent half the phone call talking about you taking over the company and dating Elizabeth Blackmore. Who is beautiful and cunning, but clearly not your type. Anyway, I told you it would work.”

The plan she constructed, since she was essentially disowned, was reliant on my making our parents come around. I am supposed to stay in their lives and influence them to allow her back in as well. Our father was barely present as it was, so it was more about getting our mother to accept everything.

I vehemently disagreed and told her I should treat them the way they treated her, but Olivia is adamant that I do as she says. She clings to the moments with our mother where she made us smile.

“I should just cut her off. It would be better for both of us,” I say with a frown.

“Nonsense. Plus, you promised me you wouldn’t. It would really hurt her if you did.”

Nothing hurts our mother unless it involves her reputation or her money. She would have to care about us more to be hurt by our actions.

“I don’t get why you still love her.”