Denied Page 8


‘Hello, Olivia.’ William’s voice is just how I remember. Soft. Comforting.

I hang my head. I’m not ready for this.

‘You could at the very least be courteous enough to look at me and say hello this time. That night at the hotel, you were in an awful hurry.’

I slowly turn my eyes and absorb every refined piece of William Anderson, refreshing the distant memories that I’ve stored at the back of my mind for years and years. ‘What is it about you types and manners?’ I ask shortly, keeping my stare on his shimmering greys. They seem even more sparkly, his full head of grey hair making his eyes seem more like liquid metal.

He smiles and reaches over, clasping my little hand in his big one. ‘I would have been disappointed had you not fired a little spunk in my direction.’

His touch is just as comforting as his handsome face. I don’t want it to be, but it is. ‘And I would hate to disappoint you, William,’ I sigh. The door next to me shuts and the driver is up front in no time, pulling away from the kerb. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘For dinner, Olivia. It seems we have a lot to talk about.’ He pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles before placing it back in my lap. ‘The similarities are incredible,’ he says quietly.

‘Don’t,’ I grate, turning to look out the window. ‘If that’s all you want to talk about, then I’ll graciously decline your invitation to dinner.’

‘I wish it really was all there is to talk about,’ he replies sternly. ‘But a certain wealthy young gentleman is higher on my list of concerns, Olivia.’

My eyes slowly close and, if it were possible, I’d close my ears, too. I don’t want to hear what William has to say. ‘Your concern isn’t necessary.’

‘I’ll be the one who decides that. I’m not going to sit back and watch you be dragged into a world where you don’t belong. I fought long and hard to keep you from it, Olivia.’ He reaches over and runs his knuckles down my cheek, watching me closely. ‘I won’t allow it.’

‘It has nothing to do with you.’ I’m sick of people thinking they know what’s best for me. I’m the master of my own destiny, I think like an idiot. I take the handle of the door when the car stops at a red light, ready to jump out and run. But I don’t get very far. The door won’t budge and William has a firm grip around the top of my arm.

‘You’re staying in this car, Olivia,’ he asserts firmly as the car pulls away from the lights. ‘I’m in no mood for your defiance this evening. You really are your mother through and through.’

I shrug him off and rest back in the plush leather. ‘Please don’t speak of her.’

‘Your hatred hasn’t lessened, then?’

I turn cold eyes onto my mother’s ex-pimp. ‘Why would it? She chose your dark world over her daughter.’

‘You’re about to choose a darker world,’ he says matter-of-factly.

My mouth snaps shut and my heart rate doubles. ‘I’m choosing nothing,’ I whisper. ‘I’m never going to see him again.’

He smiles fondly at me on a little shake of his head. ‘Who are you trying to convince?’ he asks, and probably wisely, too. I heard my words. There was no conviction in them. ‘I’m here to help you, Olivia.’

‘I don’t need your help.’

‘I assure you, you do. More than you did seven years ago,’ he says harshly, almost coldly, leaving me feeling cold. I remember William’s dark world. I can’t possibly need his help more now than I did then.

He turns away from me and takes his phone from his inside pocket, punching in a few numbers before holding it to his ear. ‘Cancel my appointments for the rest of the evening,’ he orders, and then hangs up, slipping his phone back into his jacket. He keeps his gaze forward for the rest of the journey, leaving me wondering what’s about to transpire over dinner. I know I’m about to hear things that I don’t want to, and I know there is nothing I can do to stop it.

The driver pulls the Lexus up to a small restaurant and opens the door for me. William nods, a wordless gesture to step out, which I do without a fuss, knowing it will get me nowhere to protest. Smiling at the driver, I wait for William to join me on the pavement and then watch as he buttons his jacket before placing his hand on the small of my back to guide me onward. The doors to the restaurant are opened for us and William greets almost everyone as we pass through. The awareness of his presence by other diners and the staff is powerful. He nods and smiles all the way until we’re being seated at a private table at the back, away from prying eyes and ears. A wine menu is handed to me by a smart waiter, and I smile my thanks as I take my seat.

‘She’ll have water,’ he orders. ‘And the usual for me.’ There’s no please or thank you. ‘I recommend the risotto.’ William smiles across the table at me.

‘I’m not hungry.’ My stomach’s in knots, a mixture of nerves and anger. I couldn’t possibly eat.

‘You’re bordering on emaciated, Olivia. Please let me have the satisfaction of watching you eat a decent meal.’

‘I have my nan to nag me about my weight. I don’t need you nagging, too.’ I place the menu on the table and take the glass of water that’s just been poured.

‘How is the formidable Josephine?’ he asks, accepting a tumbler of dark liquid from the waiter.

She wasn’t so formidable when William sent me back to her. I recall him referring to my grandmother on a few occasions during my reckless spell, but I was too blinkered by my determination back then to delve into the details of their acquaintance. ‘You knew her?’ Now I’m curious again, and I damn well hate being curious.

He laughs, and it’s a pleasant sound, all smooth and light. ‘I’ll never forget her. I was her first call each time Gracie performed one of her disappearing acts.’

The mention of my mother’s name stirs the bile in my stomach, but hearing about my grandmother makes me smile on the inside. She’s fearless, not intimidated in the least bit by anyone, and I know William wouldn’t have been an exception. His amused tone while talking of Nan is proof. ‘She’s well,’ I answer.

‘Still spunky?’ he asks with a slight smile on his lips.

‘More than ever,’ I answer, ‘but she wasn’t too good when you took me home that night seven years ago.’

‘I know.’ He nods in understanding. ‘She needed you.’

Regret cripples me, and I crumble within, wishing I could change how I reacted to the discovery of my mother’s journal and to my grandmother’s grief. ‘We got through it. She’s still spunky.’

He smiles. It’s a fond smile. ‘No one ever made me quake in my boots, Olivia. Only your grandmother.’ The idea of William quaking in his boots is ludicrous. ‘But she knew deep down that I could no less control Gracie than she or your grandfather could.’

William relaxes back in his chair and orders two risottos when the waiter presents himself.

‘Why?’ I ask once the waiter has scurried away again. This is a question I should have asked all those years ago. There are so many things I should have asked back then.

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