Page 17 of Before the Night Falls
Tyson froze, suddenly understanding. “The nightlights . . .”
“I’m sorry.” She straightened her shoulders, visibly trying to pull herself together. “It’s stupid. I just?—”
“No, it’s not stupid. And it’s probably my fault. Mrs. Castillo—my housekeeper—must have taken them. My cousin brought her kids here to stay last month. They’re afraid of the dark, so she always brings nightlights. Mrs. Castillo probably thought they left them behind.”
Olivia nodded, but her hands still trembled. The famous television host, known for her razor-sharp interviews and unflappable composure, looked terrified of something as simple as darkness.
“I have another one,” he said quickly. “In the storage closet. Give me two minutes.”
He returned with not just one but three nightlights and a small lamp.
“I like to be prepared.” He set the items down on the dresser. “My mom always said you can never have too many sources of light.”
He plugged in the nightlights, one near the bed, one by the bathroom door, and kept the third as a backup.
“Thank you.” The relief was palpable in her voice. “I know it seems childish.”
Tyson studied her a moment. The Olivia Montgomery he’d seen on television was confident, bold, and fearless.
This woman before him was clearly carrying invisible wounds. He knew about her abduction and escape. He could only imagine how that event had changed her.
“It’s not childish to be afraid of something,” he said carefully. “Especially when you have a good reason.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, it seemed like Olivia might say something. Explain the fear etched into the tight lines around her mouth and the shadows beneath her eyes.
Instead, she simply offered him a small smile. “I didn’t think Tyson Stone would be so understanding about something like this.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He shrugged. “That’s supposed to be your job, right? Digging deep, finding the story beneath the surface?”
“Yes, well,” she gestured around the room, “looks like you’re the one finding out my secrets instead.”
“We all have things we’d rather keep to ourselves. Get some rest, okay? I’m just down the hall if you need anything.” He moved toward the door, then paused. “And Olivia? The darkness . . . it doesn’t get to decide who you are. You do.”
As he closed the door behind him, Tyson knew he’d just seen the first crack in the carefully constructed facade of Olivia Montgomery. Despite himself, despite the fact that getting involved with a reporter was probably the worst idea he’d had in years, he wanted to know more.
Not for the cameras. Not for her show.
Just for her.
CHAPTERSEVEN
Olivia followedher usual routine and woke up at six a.m. to start the day.
She couldn’t get last night out of her mind, however.
First, finding the nightlights missing. Then Tyson coming to reassure her.
He’d surprised her—in the very best of ways. Something about his demeanor was so calming. And something about his strength made her feel strangely safe.
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and threw on some maroon shorts and a black tank top. Then she grabbed her Bible and went outside.
Thirty acres of North Carolina splendor stretched beyond the doors of Tyson’s estate. It was a private kingdom carved from the rolling Piedmont countryside outside Charlotte.
The centerpiece was an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Its sapphire waters glimmered beneath the early morning sun, bordered by travertine tile that Olivia would bet remained cool even in the summer’s oppressive heat.
Olivia sat on a lounger to enjoy the solitude.
Though she now lived in New York City, she’d never enjoyed the bustling city. She preferred open spaces, and Tyson’s patio was the essence of that. It was big and wide with different layers. The best part was that it looked out over miles of nothing.
