When Olivia had been at her worst, their father had suggested Olivia give up her apartment and move back home with him. Fortunately, his house had no mortgage, and Emerson and Jake had agreed to keep paying Olivia’s salary while she was off work. But the upkeep was expensive, and Olivia needed help with chores to focus on her recovery.
“I know you guys would.” Olivia reached for Jake’s hand and squeezed it. “But I’ve been speaking to my therapist. I’m finding it hard being here…without Dad. It’s like a time warp. I wake at seven every morning missing the sound of the coffee grinder. I’m not like you two. The quiet drives me mad. I have zero interest in the garden. Someone else should be here. It’s a family home. And I feel like moving out and working again are the first steps in getting back to normal.”
Emerson listened as Olivia spoke. Her sister seemed…hopeful.
“Move in with me for a while,” Jake said. “I’ll tone down the farting if you promise to brush your teeth twice a day.”
Emerson smacked his arm as Olivia laughed. “You are such a jerk,” she muttered.
“I know I could live with either of you, but I think I’d like to head back downtown. I know I can’t do it until this place sells, but I think I’d like to buy instead of rent. Get on the property ladder like you two.”
Emerson’s heart stopped beating. The house. With no mortgage. It had to be worth at least five hundred thousand. With five hundred thousand, they could pay back the loan if they needed to and at least make a start on renovating the distillery. They could start with buying two new stills, even if they had to be installed in their current setup, and retire Patience to the smaller-batch runs and for new product development.
“But I started to see what I could find. Look,” Liv said, opening her laptop on the kitchen counter to show them a photograph of a listed property she liked near the university. “It’s only a one-bed. With the down payment, my mortgage would be so much lower than the rent. And that would be one less thing stressing me out. Knowing I’d be in a stronger financial position. Just looking and seeing a future made me feel so much better today.”
Olivia linked arms with Emerson, who could barely speak. “Look, Em. Don’t you think that bookcase I have in my room right now would look great in that space?”
“Yeah…fabulous,” Emerson said with all the energy she could muster. How could she consider asking Olivia to punt her recovery for the distillery? Hadn’t the only thing she’d wanted all along was for Olivia to be back to her happy self? This was the closest she had seen Olivia in months.
She’d intended to tell them about their father’s loan but planned to wait until she knew what the bank intended. Causing them unnecessary stress wasn’t the right thing to do. It hadn’t occurred to her to kick Olivia out of their father’s house until she was ready. But if she was ready now, they could sell, give Liv her share, and then she could see if Jake would agree to put their remaining balance to the distillery.
Emerson mentally shook her head. That wouldn’t work. Olivia wouldn’t stand for the two of them putting more in than she was expected to…and she couldn’t do it without Olivia knowing because the split of the company would need updating, a document they’d all have to sign.
“Do you not like it, Em?” Concern etched Olivia’s features.
“No, I love it,” she managed to say. “If we are putting this place up for sale, we should start thinking about clearing it out and getting it staged.”
There was time to figure it out. None of them wanted to see the distillery go under…and neither she nor Jake would want to save the distillery at the risk of Olivia’s progress. It seemed like there could be enough money to do both.
But wouldn’t it be amazing if the insurance came through, the house sale came through, and there was an explanation for her father’s loan? She was expecting the details to come from the bank soon.
Emerson smiled, this time for real. Olivia and Jake had their heads in the laptop, and she had access to the funds they might need.
After dinner, filled to the brim with apple pie and ice cream, Emerson drove home and let herself into the house. She had the urge to ask Connor to come over, but it seemed pathetic that after less than forty-eight hours, she was craving his touch.
As she slipped into bed, her phone vibrated.
My bed feels pretty empty without you in it. Cx
Emerson smiled. She snapped a quick picture of the other side of her bed. Mine, too.
A minute later, he replied. I don’t know your limits yet, sweetheart. But want to get off with me? Virtually?
Yes, she replied, jumping out of bed. She had no idea what he had in mind, but she bet it didn’t include the Scandinavian-patterned pajamas she picked up in a sale. Whipping her top off over her head, she ran to her dresser. Black push-up bra, that would do. And the black silk slip edged in lace that she rarely wore because the lace itched her skin…she’d manage for thirty minutes.
She pulled her pajama bottoms off, put her bra and slip on, and caught sight of herself in the mirror. Tousled hair, flushed cheeks from the very idea of getting it on over the airwaves with Connor. Too bad she’d washed off her mascara already.
Hi. Connor had sent her a picture of himself sitting up in bed, his chest naked. One hand was in his hair, his muscles flexing. Damn, the man’s body was something else, but it was the smile that flipped her heart.
Emerson opened her camera. She couldn’t do the same pose. So,
