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Her cell phone vibrated on the countertop. She smiled at the Bach ring tone that was attributed to Dr. Victor Randall, her supervisor and on again, off again lover.
Olivia pressed the green phone icon. “Victor, checking up on me?” She leaned against the backrest of the chair.
“Yes.” He chuckled. “How are things—and you, of course?”
“Well, I had a chance to briefly visit the site yesterday, but the weather was against us. I did get some photographs and...I met with the developer in charge of the restoration work.”
“Connor Lawson.”
Olivia beat back the sudden uptick of her heart. She drew in a breath. “Uh, yes, as a matter of fact.”
“Hmm. Heard good things about his work. It’s really important that you two work hand in hand. Not only do we want to get the history of Dayton Village, but it’s going to be up to you to ensure that the restoration keeps in line with your findings.”
Olivia frowned. “Mr. Lawson doesn’t seem to be the kind of man that would appreciate outside direction on his project.”
“I’m not telling you to run his project. What I’m saying is that it’s imperative for our purposes to ensure that the restoration remains true to your findings. The site...is the only original community of freed slaves and Native American Indians on the Eastern Seaboard. I can’t impress upon you the significance of that. You are the eyes and ears. You are the one who must ensure that every detail is accurate.”
“I’ve been doing this for a long time, long enough to appreciate the significance without a reminder course.” She felt his hesitation before he responded.
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise or to second-guess you. However, the grant is important, Liv. Plenty of eyes are watching. If we miss a step on this project we could potentially lose major funding across the board for the future. Not to mention that your five-year contract is up at the end of this project. I don’t have to tell you what that means.”
Olivia blew out a conciliatory breath. “I know.” The weight of her responsibility and her future curved her shoulders.
“I plan to come down in a couple of weeks,” Victor said.
Olivia flinched. “Why? I mean, sure, but...why?”
“The funders want a progress report and...I want to see you.”
Her stomach knitted. She looped her fingers around her mug, as she’d suddenly grown inexplicably cold. She brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. “Looking forward,” she finally said.
“I’ll only be able to stay a couple of days...but I hope we can spend some time together, catch up. It’s been too long.”
A filmstrip of their relationship played in front of her. Dr. Victor Randall could have easily had any woman that he wanted. He was a brilliant scientist with magazine looks, and a personality that was a mixture of charm and sensuality. They’d met about four years earlier when Olivia had first come to work at The Institute. He became her mentor, then her lover, then her supervisor. They’d both agreed that neither of them wanted or needed anything permanent. When Victor got his promotion, they’d tempered their personal relationship, and over time their intimacy moved further into the background, morphing into what it was today—purely platonic as far as Olivia was concerned. Even though she’d made it crystal clear that nothing could happen between them, there were instances when Victor seemed to have forgotten.
“It has,” she finally responded, her voice noncommittal. “Um, just let me know when.”
“I will.” He paused. “Is everything all right, Liv? You sound...odd.”
She pushed away thoughts of Connor and Victor in the same space, with her in the middle. “No. I’m fine. Looking over some notes and thinking about your visit.” She heard him exhale.
“Good. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Take care, Victor.” She disconnected the call and slowly placed the phone on the counter. She stared off across the kitchen. Maybe having Victor come for a visit was a necessary complication. Connor Lawson would only wind up being “another one,” and she wasn’t sure if that was all she wanted. Victor’s presence would erect the barrier she needed to prevent that from happening.
Olivia turned off her computer and stuck her loose pages back into the binders. It was nearly ten. She was sure that the workers at the site would be in full swing by now. She would need access, but she didn’t want to get in the way. Unfortunately, she and Connor hadn’t discussed a working schedule. She hopped down from the chair. There was no time like the present.
* * *
After getting dressed in her typical workday outfit of jeans, white cotton blouse and ankle boots, she gathered her iPad, notebook, phone and camera and tossed them in her tote. She grabbed her lightweight leather jacket from the hook by the door and headed out.
Unlike the previous day, the forecast was for warm weather and blue skies. Signs of spring were everywhere, on the budding leaves and shimmering grass. The chirps of the winged ones that had begun to return from a winter hiatus carried the announcement of a new beginning.
Olivia rolled down her window and inhaled the freshly washed air; the sharp scents of wet grass and moist earth permeated her senses. On either side of the narrow two-lane road the small, neat homes stood like advertisements for a way of life that was foreign to city living.
Moments like these, and of course, the thrill of discovery, were the ingredients that fueled her, made all the traveling and often long, grueling hours worthwhile. Uncovering the history of people long forgotten and bringing them back to life for the world to see was an unending goal. It was all she had; it was who she was. There was a time in her life when that stark reality had stared her in the face and she’d been overcome by an unbearable sense of worthlessness. Over time, rather than reject or fight the one fact of her life that she could believe in, she’d embraced it.
Yet there were moments like now, as the homestead came into view, and she knew the buried secrets of some others’ past would soon be revealed, that she wanted more for herself for once.
Olivia cut the engine of the Range Rover, gathered her things and got out. She stood for a moment on the crest overlooking the worn structures and forgotten paths below. She pulled out her camera and took a series of shots of the work in progress to document the “before.” She put her camera away and cupped her hands around her eyes, blocking out the glare of the morning sun in hopes of spotting Connor among the men. Her heart double-timed with anticipation as she slowly descended the slope and made her way across the muddy ground and around the trucks and heavy equipment.
A tingle skittered along her spine. His voice. She heard him before she saw him. She turned to her right and caught sight of him climbing up onto the seat of a tractor. Halfway in he stopped, as if he’d heard something in the distance that told him to wait. Hanging on to the wheel, he swiveled his hard body in Olivia’s direction.
The only thing that moved was her lips, which parted ever so slightly to gather some air.
Connor jumped down, snatched his thick work gloves off his hands and jammed them into his back jeans’ pocket while he strode toward her.
Olivia clenched her fist, digging her nails into her palm. The mildly uncomfortable action snapped her back to the reality of where she was and why. She was not here to snatch this fine specimen of a man by his leather belt and haul him into one of these deserted buildings. That was not her assignment.
“Olivia,” he said in greeting, making her name sound like a hymn.
“I should have called or something, but I did want to get started. Maybe we can work out some kind of schedule.” She wished that she could see his eyes behind his dark shades.
The left corner of his lush mouth inched slightly upward. “It’s not a problem. Really. You can come...whenever you want.”
Her clit jumped at the double entendre.
“We can work out a schedule tomorrow night—at dinner.”
Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but it wasn’t lost on Connor.
“We’re still on...?”
“Yes. Sure. I’m looking forward to it,” Connor said.
He studied her for a moment from behind the shield of darkness. “So...where do you want to start?”
“Well, I thought I’d begin by matching up the drawings with the structures that are standing—do some sketches. Then, going forward, examining each of the buildings, the areas around them, checking for artifacts, note taking, more pictures.” She grinned. “Ideally, I need to get in before any major restoration is done. I’d also want to examine any debris.”
“Whatever you need.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll get Jake to take you around.”
Why was she disappointed? She forced a smile. “Great.”
“He’s on the other side. Follow me.”
Connor walked a step or two ahead of Olivia and she cataloged the confident, long-legged swagger that could part a crowd or the seven seas. She drew in a “get it together” breath and matched his pace.
“What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“Oh, um, seven, seven thirty.” She glanced at his profile.
Connor gave a bare nod, then lifted his chin. “Over this way.”
Jake was in the midst of reviewing the blueprints with one of the crew when Olivia and Connor walked up.
“Connor. Dr. Gray.” His greeting held a questioning note. He glanced from one to the other.
“Dr. Gray wants to get started with her research. We’ll work out some kind of schedule, but I told her that you’d give her the full tour in the meantime.”
A brief shadow of confusion passed over Jake’s face. He gave a slight shrug. “Sure.” He flashed a look at Connor, but couldn’t penetrate the dark lenses.
“When you’re done, come back to the main building,” Connor said, and strode off.
Olivia watched him leave and juggled the conflicting emotions that followed—dismissal, disappointment, uncertainty.
“Ready?”
Olivia blinked and turned her focus on Jake. “Yes.” She adjusted her tote on her shoulder and fell into step with him. “I hope this isn’t too much of an inconvenience.”
“Not at all. What the boss wants the boss gets. We can start up on the ridge and work our way down and across,” he quickly added, before Olivia could respond to the “boss” comment.
“Lead the way.”
“You do a lot of these, I suppose,” Jake said.
Olivia smiled. “I’ve had my share. You?”
“Working with Connor is a lot different from what I’d been doing.”
“What was that?”
“Basic construction work, apartments and office buildings mostly.”
“So...how did you and Connor meet?”
Jake slowed in front of a structure that was standing with a hope and a prayer. “Funny, seems as if I’ve known him all my life.” His brow knit. “We were at this bar in Harlem, Rhythms I think was the name. We had a few drinks, started talking and the next thing I knew I was saying yes to joining him on his next reno job. One job led to the next.” He shrugged. “Here we are.”
“He must be a very persuasive guy.”
Jake gave her a sidelong glance from midnight-blue eyes. “Very. Connor always finds a way to get what he wants.” He picked up a yellow hard hat that was stored on the outside of the building and handed it to Olivia. “Can’t be too careful.” He unhooked his own from his work belt and put it on his head. He held open the door of the cabin and Olivia stepped inside.
* * *
For the next two hours, Jake led her around the development, explaining the layout and functions of each of the structures and what, if any, work had been done, while Olivia photographed and took notes. In between she asked innocuous questions about Connor, which Jake seemed more than happy to answer.
* * *
“See everything you need?” Connor asked when Olivia and Jake approached. He wiped his moist forehead with the back of his hand. At some point he’d taken off his gray hoodie and was now wearing only a fitted gray T-shirt that was sticking to his damp torso.
Olivia licked her bottom lip and tore her gaze away from the expanse of his chest, but looking into his now exposed eyes was just as deadly. “Jake was extremely helpful.” She turned and flashed Jake a smile.
“Anytime. I’m gonna head back up the hill. The supplies came in. Need to check the inventory.”
“Sure. And thanks.” Connor focused on Olivia. He leaned against a mud-covered truck, crossed his feet at the ankle and stared at her, his gaze gently probing.
Olivia felt as if she was being caressed, but Connor was several feet away. Her skin tingled. She ran her hands up and down her arms.
“Cold?”
She shook her head. “Um, I’m going back to my place. I have a lot of work to do. Thanks for today.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He stepped up to her, then casually placed his hand at the dip of her back, as if it was something he was entitled to do, and the warmth of his hand and his self-assurance flowed through her.
Olivia allowed herself to be guided around the workmen and their big toys. When she and Connor reached her Range Rover, she faced him. “How many more hours?” she asked, lifting her chin toward the work site.
“Till about six.” He took a step. “I’d be in the mood for a drink about six thirty. Care to join me?” It sounded like a challenge.
“I...really have a lot to do...”
“No problem. If you change your mind, I’ll be at McCoy’s on Winston Street.” He tapped the side of her car and walked away before she had a chance to respond.
Olivia tugged the door open and got behind the wheel. She should have agreed. Instead, she pulled away and went home...to spend the evening alone.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_93938922-efda-55fb-90f0-152b2da48da3)
“So...what do you think of Connor Lawson?” Desiree asked. She stuck her fork in the chicken salad and took a mouthful.
Olivia took a sip of her tea. “He’s...nice enough.”
Desiree nearly choked. “Nice enough. You. Are. Kidding. Right?”
Olivia laughed. “What do you want me to say, Desi?”
“I saw the two of you together at the party. There was definitely chemistry.”
“I think you’re imagining things.”
“Hmm. And my name is Don’t Know Any Better.”
Olivia pushed out a feigned sigh. “Okay, okay, you twisted my arm. The man is fine. All caps. Sexy seeps from his pores and he’s smart. Lethal combination. Would I kick him out of my bed? I don’t think so,” she added with a grin. “We’re going to dinner tonight. So...we’ll see.” She gave a half shrug.
“That’s more like it. Where are you going?”
“I have no idea.” She picked up her chicken panino. “He didn’t say, just that he was going to pick me up between seven and seven thirty.”
Desiree leaned in. “Connor doesn’t date.”
“What?” Olivia frowned in confusion.
