Page 53 of The Payback Plan
Yeah, that sounded like Bella. Efficiently cleaning up the mess, putting on a brave face and carrying on.
It also sounded like her right now, not wanting to talk about the kiss.
‘I told her if she wanted to go to every media outlet in the world and trash me, I would understand but she was horrified that I would even think that she would splash our private life around and made me promise that I wouldn’t do it either. She said she didn’t want much but she was asking me to keep my mouth zipped so I assured her I would. I was already ducking paps every time I stuck my head out the door and I felt bad enough about the way things had gone down without keeping the story going.’
Ugh.Oliver’s sincere remorse, etched into every one of his brow lines made it very hard to stay mad at him. Yes, he’d done a terrible thing but the situation – as was often the case – was more nuanced than that. And it was clear he felt genuine regret and had done all he could to make the fallout easier for Bella.
As he should have.
Which didn’t make him a bad person. Yes, he’d done a bad thing but he’d acknowledged it and done all he could to alleviate the situation. Which surely made him a decent guy?
But that was not helping the morning after they’d kissed. Nor was it helping her payback plan. She was here to mess with him. Not see his side of things. Not rationalise his actions. Not question the validity of what she’d set out to do even though the nuance was giving her second thoughts.
His phone chose that moment to vibrate on the table and Paige could have kissed it for putting a stop to her conflicting emotions. He broke eye contact to pick it up and read the message, setting it down again without replying. ‘I’m off to London for two days. I’ll be back Sunday lunch time.’
Paige couldn’t decide if she was miffed or relieved at his announcement. Was he giving them both some space? Or was he running away like he’d run from Redondo?
Or maybe,you idiot, he just had some business to attend to.
‘Will you be okay by yourself?’
Taken aback, Paige nodded. It was surprisingly nice to have someone other than her mother ask that question. A man, even. Maybe it wasn’t very feminist of her but she liked it. ‘I’m used to being on my own.’
As soon as the words were out, she cringed internally, hoping they hadn’t come across as sad as they’d sounded. After all, he was used to being on his own, too.
‘I have a car coming for me in half an hour.’
Of course he did. ‘Okay.’
Their gazes fused for a beat or two and neither said anything but the echo of the kiss lived and breathed in those nanoseconds.
‘Can I send through more pages if I get some done on the commute?’
Paige blinked. Okay, clearly it was not living and breathing for him… ‘Sure.’ She nodded like a freaking marionette – stiff and wooden. ‘Send through whatever you have.’
‘Thanks,’ he murmured before standing. ‘Better get ready.’
Casper trailed after him as he departed and Pavarotti followed his progress looking utterly bereft – who knewthatwas possible for a hamster?
Great, just what she needed for company the next couple of days – the Oliver bloody Prendergast fan club.
* * *
Oliver left, as scheduled, half an hour later and Paige was relieved. She was almost positive that’s what the feeling was in the pit of her stomach, anyway. The animals, on the other hand, went into some kind of mourning. Casper sat in the hallway near the front door as if waiting for his master’s return and Pavarotti was so despondent, his wheel neglected, that Paige considered giving him some caramel popcorn to pep him up. But, it wasn’t right to get him hooked again when he’d come so far.
Ignoring the animals and thoughts of what had happened between her and Oliver, Paige took advantage of his absence to do some work she’d been neglecting in favour of her payback shenanigans. She threw a ball for Casper on the beach for over an hour and wondered if the gusty grey weather would ever stop. After lunch, Oliver’s first pages came through and she switched to that.
In it he talked about the first time he’d realised his father was unfaithful to his mother and how her often brittle smile had suddenly made sense. He talked about his profound disappointment and how his mother had tried to keep Oliver’s rose-coloured glasses firmly in place by assuring him it was okay and that it was normal for men like his father and that it was just what they did.
Damn it.Compassion for that bewildered eight-year-old boy flooded in. It seemed like having those blinkers ripped away had been gutting. She wanted to go back in time and hug him and tell him it wasn’t okay, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t what men did.
She wanted to tellherthat as well.
The pages the next day were just as wrenching as she read them curled up on the couch in her comfy but clingy yoga pants and a T-shirt that had a Dorito with Danny DeVito’s face on it and the phraseDanny Doritounderneath. The new writing focused on Oliver’s decision to accept his father’s invitation to live in California at the age of fifteen.
With his mother’s encouragement, Oliver had agreed. Ostensibly because he’d decided he wanted to work in movies and he might as well exploit whatever cachet the son of Roger Prendergast afforded him. But also because, as a teenager, Oliver had started to realise that his father was only human, despite the pedestal he’d put him on.
And, if his mum could forgive him, then maybe he could cut him some slack, too?
