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It was too much.
It was cruel, and she wouldn’t have said Zamir was cruel.
She stared at the email with a growing sense of despair.
He was moving on. And why shouldn’t he?
He’d made it obvious he wanted to be distracted from the circumstances he found himself in. Did she really believe he wouldn’t seek comfort in another woman’s arms?
It was easy enough for Olivia to organise the date. She didn’t need to drop Zamir’s name. Her name carried enough sway. Every venue in Vegas knew she worked for Johnny, and that she represented top-tier A-Listers. If Olivia Henderson called, restaurants tripped all over themselves to meet her needs.
She chose a restaurant that was a personal favourite of hers. It was at the top of one of the premiere hotels, and it rotated gently, providing views of the glittering lights and the desert hills in the distance. The food was exceptional, and the ambience excellent. There were private tables that catered for more romantic liaisons. It had been hugely popular with previous clients.
Olivia couldn’t think about the fact she was organising a date for the man she loved. It was a matter of sanity and survival. If she imagined Zamir sitting in that stunning restaurant with another woman, she knew she’d combust.
She spoke to the maître ‘de and organised the best bottle of champagne, and a selection of amuse bouche to be presented upon arrival, and she pretended she was talking about someone other than Zamir.
But when everything was organised, she began to slowly pull her clothes out of the wardrobe. She folded them neatly into her suitcase, and then zipped it up. If the security agents in the hallway thought anything of her departure, they didn’t show it.
Olivia rode the elevator with a growing sense of despondency.
The foyer of the prestigious hotel was busy.
She weaved through the guests with complete numbness. Taxis were queued in the driveway; she placed her bag into the boot of the first one, and settled back against the upholstery. Her voice shook as she gave her home address. Only once the bright lights and frenetic pace of the strip was behind her did Olivia pull her phone from her pocket.
Your date is organised. She typed the address and time she’d agreed with the restaurant. I hope you enjoy yourself. By the way, I was wrong. Turns out, I am a quitter. Or at least, I am now.
She sent it without a moment’s hesitation, and then switched her phone off.
She was so tired. She couldn’t have handled his response. Worse, she couldn’t have handled it if he hadn’t replied. And so she chose blissful unawareness.
Her apartment was devoid of life.
The small orchid she kept above the microwave had died. It was hot and stuffy despite the coolness of Autumn.
She moved through it, switching lights on, opening windows, tossing out the enormous collection of junk mail that had been dropped through the slot in her door.
Home, dirty and cluttered or not, was home.
She was too tired to shower.
Instead, she climbed into bed, and pulled her teddy bear to her chest. It was the same bear she’d been hugging to sleep every night for the past twenty two years – a gift on her second birthday from her mother, she’d loved him instantly.
Even now she took comfort from his furry nearness.
Sleep, the healer of all ills, came to her swiftly. Being home had the power almost to render the previous two and a half weeks a bad nightmare. It took some of Zamir’s power away.
She slept deeply, and might have slept through the entire night, if a sound in her room hadn’t woken her.
She blinked her eyes open, momentarily disorientated, until they landed on the familiar features of Zamir. At first, she smiled. It was an instinctive reaction, brought on by what he had come to mean to her.
But quickly, she remembered everything else.
Every reason she had not to smile at him.
His treatment of her.
His coldness to her.
