Unable to deal with Noelle on this of all days, she set her phone aside. But a minute later, she heard the buzz of an incoming text.
“What do you want?” she grumbled and checked her messages.
Brandon’s off on his Nicaragua trip for God knows how long. He probably won’t even remember your name when he gets back, her sister had written.
Noelle couldn’t seem to help herself. She just had to be spiteful.
Olivia nearly responded with some sarcastic remark about the difficulty of marriage and good luck getting Kyle to give her that house in town—or earning Kyle’s love, for that matter. But her mother had told her Noelle was having a tough time adjusting to married life. Apparently stealing Kyle hadn’t brought her the happiness she’d thought it would. So, instead of unleashing all the hurtful things she was dying to say, Olivia wrote, I wish Brandon the best.
Then she went to get showered. Noelle was right on one account. Brandon would forget her soon enough.
Lunch with Scott was tense. His agent was the only one, besides Olivia, who knew that Brandon’s leg wasn’t healing properly, the one who’d arranged the operation to fix it. He had a vested interest in seeing Brandon succeed, so he clearly wasn’t happy when Brandon came toward him, unable to walk without a slight limp.
“It’s worse?” he said.
Some days, like today, the pain was so bad Brandon almost couldn’t tolerate it. “A lot worse.” He hated to hear himself say that, but there it was.
Scott cursed, looked away, then forced a smile. “Dr. Shapiro will take care of you. He’s the best leg man in the world. A real miracle-worker.”
Brandon nodded and listened as Scott detailed what they’d accomplish next season. Neither one of them admitted that, if the operation didn’t work, his career was finished. It wasn’t a possibility they could even acknowledge.
By the time the waitress brought the check, Brandon was eager for lunch to be over. He’d thought seeing Scott would be helpful, motivating, encouraging, but he found that their visit had depressed him instead. It was the worry in Scott’s eyes.
“When do you have to be at the airport?” Scott asked.
Brandon glanced at his watch. “Half an hour. We’d better go.”
They rode in silence. There wasn’t much more to say. Brandon had a rough few weeks ahead of him, with uncertainty his only companion.
When they arrived, Scott insisted on parking and taking Brandon’s luggage. That in itself told Brandon his agent was deeply concerned. How many times had Scott brought him here and dropped him at the curb?
Too many to count. But Brandon didn’t argue. He figured he’d be on his own all too soon.
They were in line at the ticket counter when he received a text from Olivia. He couldn’t believe she’d finally responded.
What she’d written came as an even bigger surprise: Before you go, I just want you to know that I’ve never felt about anyone else the way I feel about you. You own my heart, Brandon. I think you have since prom. So please, be safe. I want to see you on the slopes next fall.
“What is it?” Although Scott had been getting anxious to leave—making calls and answering texts while they waited—he was watching Brandon now, too curious to be distracted by the passing time.
“A friend,” he replied, but he realized almost as soon as those words came out of his mouth that she was much more than a friend. He’d never felt about anyone else the way he felt about her, either.
“I can help you here, sir.” The gal at the ticket counter smiled, expecting him to approach. But he couldn’t move.
“Brandon?” Scott had already dragged his luggage to the scale.
“I can’t do this,” he said, remaining right where he was.
Scott’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “What? Are you crazy?”
The reason behind the fear that had been gripping his stomach for days suddenly became clear. It wasn’t only his career he was afraid of losing. “I have to see someone.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Scott said. “See who?”
Waving the family behind him to the counter in his place, Brandon stepped out of line.
His shocked agent hurried over with his bags. “What are you doing?” he whispered. “If you miss this plane, you’ll miss your operation. And I’m not sure when we’ll be able to reschedule. This doctor is booked. Do you hear me? He’s world-famous.”
“I can’t leave her,” he said simply.
“Can’t leave who, for crying out loud?” Scott jerked on his tie, trying to loosen it. “You have to get on this plane! Do you want to ski next season or not?”
He wanted to ski. But that was no longer all he wanted. “Drive me back to Sacramento or I’ll take a cab,” he said and wrenched his suitcase from Scott’s hand.
Olivia felt much better after texting Brandon. She knew she’d probably never see him again—unless it was to bump into him occasionally while visiting Whiskey Creek. But at least she’d finally had the guts to be honest with him about her feelings. Somehow that seemed important, whether he wanted to hear what she had to say or not. It wasn’t as if she expected anything in return. She’d spoken the truth so he would know how hard she’d be praying for his health and well-being while he was gone. That was all. He needed someone to know, someone to care.
Now she’d given him that.
“Are you okay?”
She had a prospective bride in her office, looking at samples of table linens. “Of course. Why?”
The girl cocked her head. “You’ve got tears in your eyes.”
Olivia dabbed at the corners. “I was just thinking of a friend.”
“Must be a close friend.”
She nodded. As brief as her time with Brandon had been, she felt closer to him than anyone else.
She’d finished the appointment and was packing her briefcase with swatches and magazines—she
