All Good Things(22)

I shook my head. No, I couldn't buy her a Bugatti. I would, if I thought it would please her, but I knew she would probably send it back to me after setting it on fire. I couldn't bring myself to subject such beauty to her anger.

Finally, after extensive pacing, where I was sure I would have to get my floor polished and two classes of cognac, I came to the conclusion, money just wouldn't do. I had to break it down. Not because Olivia was simple, but because she was complex. Where as most women would want material things, I believed she wanted personal apologies. I fucking sucked at that shit. I was aware I would be staring at this piece of paper for the rest of the night. I had no clue what to write, but I hoped to make it good.

The sun was tainting the sky when I finally folded the letter and placed it in an envelope. I needed a few hours of sleep before my meeting at eleven. I wandered into the bedroom adjoined to my office and closed the door behind me. The windows were covered floor to ceiling, blacking out the light that tried relentlessly to slip through the cracks. I walked over the lush black shag rug and stripped from my clothing before dropping onto the bed. I would call Laura to arrange to have the letter sent as soon as she came into the office. I had a couple hours before she arrived and I fell into sleep with images of Olivia plaguing my mind and following me into my dreams.

***

I moaned aloud and pulled my pillow over my head. How dare that son-of-a-gun do this to me? I had only been able to sleep for a few hours because of his games. My body was exhausted but my mind was wide-awake. I tried relentlessly to sleep through my thoughts, but when four-thirty rolled around, I decided there was no use in trying when I'd proven to myself over the course of the last few hours, I would only fail.

I threw the blanket off my bared legs and padded barefoot from the bedroom. I wore my pajama shorts and a tank top, but decided I may as well throw on a housecoat since I was always cold. I usually tried to avoid the inevitable and packing extra clothing was my thing.

I walked into the kitchen and glared at the coffee pot. I wished I could remember to set the damned timer so I had fresh coffee waiting for me when I woke up, but that would require I had a set time to rise, and recent events proved, I obviously didn't.

I groaned as I moved across the kitchen to pour the ground grains of deliciousness into the filter before adding the water and pressing start. Now, I had to wait. Since twiddling my thumbs just wouldn't do, I decided to vacuum Moo-moos hair off the floor he was currently running across to greet me with his kitten-cute meow. Because the darned fur ball was simply irresistible, I put off vacuuming and picked him up into my arms before reaching into the fridge and grabbing his open can of cat food. After giving him sufficient love, I plopped a spoonful of his favorite wet food into a bowl and set it on the floor for him to indulge in. I stared appreciatively at his little belly and smiled. Moo-moo was black with a white belly. He looked more like an Oreo, but I couldn't resist calling him Moo-moo. It just suited him. He was a little piggy, but that was to be expected since he'd been all bones when I'd found him.

I quickly pulled the vacuum from the pantry and started the machine. I knew Trisha was probably going to bite my head off, but oh well. When I ran the vacuum over the last inch of floor, I turned it off and jumped to see Trisha with her blond, bed-head scowling at me.

"You are so damned lucky you made coffee." Trisha grumbled as she moved around the island on the hunt for a mug.

"That's my coffee." I protested as I wrapped the cord around the vacuum.

She glared at me with hard eyes. "Don't test me. It's not even five a.m. and you woke me up with," she waved her hand at the vacuum, "whatever you were doing."

"It's called cleaning." I sighed. "Trisha, meet the vacuum, he lives in our pantry."

Trisha grunted. I watched her pour the deep brown liquid into her mug and I laughed. I put the vacuum away and poured myself a cup of coffee. One milk and one sugar. It was the only way to wake up. The bittersweet magic of caffeine was an essential need of mine.

Trisha sighed after a gulp. Her eyes softened and she looked up at me. "Spill it."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." I avoided eye contact as I sipped my coffee, warming my chilled bones.

"You know what I'm talking about." She stated. "What's got you up at this ungodly hour?"

I shrugged. "I decided to enjoy the sunrise."

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that you came home late last night?" Trisha asked bluntly.

"No." I said, too quickly, and her eyes widened.

"Did you go out with Trey?" Her smile was so wide I feared it would split her face. "Tell me everything."