But he just might need Renee more.
So all he said was “Sounds good,” as if that could’ve even begun to make things right.
He wouldn’t have thought it possible but Renee blushed even more. “Okay.”
“Good,” he repeated dumbly, his arms beginning to shake with the effort of holding them at his side. But he fought those baser urges because the moment his control slipped, he’d do something foolish like pull her back into his arms and tell her to wait because he was absolutely going to join her in the shower. And then the bed. And everywhere in between.
With a smile, she turned and fled. It wasn’t until he heard her steps overhead and the door to her bedroom shut that he exhaled and staggered back to his desk on weak knees.
“She’s something.” Lucille’s gravelly voice made him jump again. “I like her.”
Oliver pulled himself to attention. “Sorry about the kitchen. We, uh, lost a cookie sheet to the pond.” He was real proud of the way his voice was level. Strong. Less...shaken.
Sitting in front of the desk, Lucille stared at him long enough that Oliver began to shift uncomfortably. Like the swans, the older woman had come with the house. She had been cleaning Red Oak Hill for almost twenty years. It had only made sense to keep her on when Oliver had bought the place six years ago.
He’d run a background check on her and got to know her, of course. He wasn’t stupid. But the fact was, Lucille was so good at maintaining Red Oak Hill to Oliver’s standards that he paid for her to come to Dallas one day a week and clean his condo, as well. And because he valued loyalty, he paid her well.
He was just about to open his mouth and tell her not to mention anything about Renee to anyone, but she beat him to the punch. “That’s the Preston Pyramid Princess, right?”
“Right.” He could feel himself deflating. “She was best friends with my sister when we were growing up. Her brother was my best friend. They were practically family.”
“Darn shame about her husband. He shot his fool head off, right?”
“Right. She’s had a rough go of it since then. I’m just giving her a place to lie low for a bit.”
“That girl reminds me of me,” Lucille announced.
“Really?” Lucille had three kids by three different fathers, but Dale was only her second husband.
Lucille gave him a smile that made it clear she knew what he was thinking. “Different circumstances, same story. Like recognizes like. I love my kids and I love my grandkids. I’m not saying I’d want to change anything because all of it—the good and the bad—gave me them. But I’m an old woman now.”
“Hardly,” he muttered. Lucille was all of fifty-five.
She ignored that interruption. “I can look back with a little distance. I had a rough childhood—my mom wasn’t around much and my dad was a mean drunk. I spent years doing whatever the hell I wanted because who was going to stop me? No one. At least, that’s what I told myself.”
Okay, so maybe a picture was slowly starting to emerge of a less-than-happy childhood for Renee. But that wasn’t anything comparable to what Lucille was talking about. However, discretion was the better part of valor, so Oliver kept his mouth shut.
Lucille went on, “But I didn’t know what I wanted. I’d meet someone and suddenly, whatever they wanted was what I wanted. Drugs, alcohol, sex—did I ever really want any of that? Or did I just go along with it because I needed the approval? Who knows, if I’d met Dale earlier...” She let that trail off, her gaze getting soft.
He was about to argue with this assessment of Renee—but then he remembered something she’d said about her wedding. She would have been perfectly happy with something small and intimate but she’d wound up with something like ten bridesmaids and custom-engraved crystal and it was all wildly over-the-top.
Was that what Lucille was talking about? Hell, he didn’t know. “As nice a guy as Dale is, I don’t think he’s Renee’s type.”
He didn’t expect Lucille to scowl. “Do you know why she’s been destroying my kitchen? Because she’s trying to figure out what she wants. Not what her father, or I assume her mother, wants, not what her husband was willing to give her. Not even what you want, Oliver Lawrence. What she wants.”
“Is that supposed to be difficult?” He didn’t mean to sound flippant. But he didn’t see how this was some sort of lifelong struggle. Okay, Renee was still in her midtwenties. And she was going through a rough time in her life. But most people got a handle on life by the time they got out of college.
After all, he knew what he wanted. He wanted to leave Lawrence Energies and his family behind and get back to his real life in New York and...
Didn’t he?
Lucille leveled a look at him that, if he’d been a younger man, would have made him drop his head in shame. As it was, he had to look away. “If you spent your entire life being told that what you want is useless and worthless,” she said in a tone that walked a fine line between understanding and disappointed, “that what makes you happy is stupid, then yeah, it’s difficult.”
“I don’t think she’s stupid.” In fact, he knew she wasn’t. God knew he didn’t tolerate fools. She was bright and charming and vivacious and gorgeous and...he wanted her.
“You know she’s not stupid. I know she’s not stupid. But does she know that?”
“Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?” But even as he said it, he had to wonder.
She did know, didn’t she? That Oliver thought she was all of those amazing, wonderful things? That he never considered her stupid or worthless, not even back when they’d been children
