Tell Me to Stay Read online

  “So, that’s why you quit your job?” he asks. “Because he was going to pay you a million dollars to work with him?”

  I nod.

  “And what is it that you're going to do together?”

  I shrug my shoulders but keep my head propped against him.

  “Olive, answer me.” He shrugs me off.

  Suddenly, I realize my mistake.

  I have given him ammunition that I should not.

  I had confused his caring actions toward me as someone who might just listen to my problems and not try to shove his opinion down my throat.

  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” I say, pulling my bathrobe tight.

  “How could you be so stupid?” he says, standing up. “How could you agree to something this ridiculous? How could you give up a nice paying job that you worked really hard to get for that?”

  I take a deep breath in an effort to calm the anger that feels like it is just below the surface, ready to erupt at any moment.

  “What is even on that flash drive?” He demands to know. “What if it’s something top secret? What if it’s something that’s classified? What if you are doing something that can put you away in prison for many years?”

  He’s right.

  Of course, he’s right.

  I should know these things.

  I need to know what I’m walking into. It’s one thing to steal jewelry and things like that but it’s a whole other thing to take corporate and government secrets.

  Of course, I can’t admit that to him, not now and probably not ever.

  I don’t say anything for a while but that doesn’t stop him from going on a rant and I regret that I ever opened up to him in the first place.

  Doesn’t he understand that this isn’t pulling us close together?

  Doesn’t he understand that this is only making me want to be with Nicholas again?

  At least, he’s not here making me choose between my only real family member and the man I love.

  There it is.

  Love.

  That word.

  That foreign word that I had never said to anyone before.

  Actually, I’ve never even thought it.

  My first high school boyfriend? The reason we broke up was that I couldn’t bring myself to say it back to him.

  His parents had been married for twenty years and they said it to each other all the time.

  That was just the kind of home that he was raised in.

  My home?

  Whenever my mother said the word ‘love’ she always used it as a weapon. It either came with a guilt trip or…no, wait, it was just a guilt trip.

  She only said it when she wanted me to do something and it was always used in a question.

  Don’t you know that I love you?

  Don’t you know that the only reason I’m asking you to do this is because I love you?

  “How do you even know that he has any money?” Owen asks, breaking my concentration.

  Finally, I have a way to defend Nicholas.

  “He paid for my first class tickets to Hawaii. I saw his house,” I say.

  “It could have just been a rented Airbnb,” Owen says smugly.

  “I went to a party there. People knew him. He has had that house for a while.”

  This seems to shut him up but only temporarily.

  When he launches into yet another attack about how dangerous it is to agree to be his partner without knowing a thing about it, I get up and kick him out of my room.

  “This conversation isn’t over,” Owen threatens. “I want to talk about this.”

  “Well, I don’t,” I say, and shut the door in his face.

  When I wake up, the sun is already high in the sky. I pick up my phone, expecting to see a good morning text from Nicholas. He has sent one for the last few days but this morning there is nothing.

  I bite my lower lip and I try to fall back asleep. I scroll aimlessly through Facebook and Instagram and when that gets boring, I read the news.

  An hour passes and now I really have to pee. Finally, I force myself out of bed and wash my face.

  I put on the most comfortable clothing I can find, basically pajamas and go out in the living room. Much to my surprise, Owen isn’t there. I look at the time. It’s almost eleven. I try to remember when he said he had to report to his parole officer but nothing comes to mind.

  Whatever it is, I enjoy being alone in my apartment again.

  As far as I know, Sydney is still in Hawaii even though I haven’t heard much from her either. I open the cabinet right next to the microwave and grab the box of Earl Grey tea. Usually, I drink mint but this morning I hope that the caffeine will free me of this terrible headache.

  But the box is empty.

  “Shit,” I say under my breath, shaking my head.

  The coffee is also gone. “Shit, shit.”

  I slip into my boots and grab my coat. There’s a coffee shop right around the corner but it will require me to go outside looking like I just woke up.

  I glance at myself in the mirror in the foyer.

  My hair looks like a bird’s nest.

  My skin is pale and splotchy around my nose.

  My eyes are bloodshot.

  My only hope is that I don’t run into anyone I know on the way there.

  20

  Olive

  When I have to make a choice…

  While standing in line, I scan the display stand and my mouth waters for the chocolate eclair with pink sprinkles.

  It’s just junk food, I say to myself. You don’t really want it. You’re going to regret it as soon as you eat it and you’re going to be kicking yourself for it the rest of the day.

  “That looks delicious, doesn’t it?” the woman standing behind me says.

  Her long hair is tied up in a bun and her yoga mat is attached to a strap that swings off her shoulder.

  “Yes,” I say. “My mouth is watering just looking at it.”

  “Oh my God, me, too!” she whispers.

  She gazes at the eclair as if it were a long lost boyfriend who got away.

  If size zero didn’t exist before this is the person who it has been invented for.

  “You should get it,” I say. “I mean, one of us should.”

  “No, I can’t.” She laughs. “I didn’t just sweat my ass off for an hour and a half to waste it all on that. Why don’t you get it?”

  I shrug. “I want to, believe me. But I didn’t even bother with exercise today. Or in the last decade.”

  “Okay, so let’s be strong together,” she suggests and I concur.

  When it’s my turn to order, I get a tall Earl Grey hot tea and that’s it. The barista hands me the cup and I make a fist with my hand in solidarity.

  “You can do it,” I whisper when I see her hesitating.

  We meet up again at the sugar and cream station.

  “I didn’t get it,” the woman announces proudly. “I stayed strong.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I don’t think I could’ve done it without you,” she admits, nudging me slightly with her hip.

  I smile at her.

  On the outside, she looks so well-put together that I never suspected that she might be struggling with the exact same things as I am.

  So much for judging the book by its cover, huh?

  She is headed to a boutique right near my house so we walk together talking about how crappy the weather has been recently.

  “Hey, listen,” she says, taking me by the arm and then shoving me into the alley right before my house.

  “What are you… doing?” I start to ask before realizing that she has pressed me against the wall and has her index finger in my face.

  “Your boyfriend, Nicholas Crawford,” she says in a completely different tone of voice. “He is in trouble.”

  “What…how…?” I push her away while I try to understand what is going on but she doesn’t budge.

  “He owes my boss a lot of money over
that Martha’s Vineyard job.”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “You will. You ask him about that. You ask him what he did with that Harry Winston necklace. You ask him what he did to his partner.”

  I make my hands into fists, readying myself for a fight that I don’t think I would win.

  “How do you know this?” I mumble, trying to think of something coherent to ask.

  “Everyone knows that he’s back in town. He’s not even trying to hide this fact. And he can’t just walk around acting like he didn’t steal two million dollars from us when everyone knows that he did.”

  I shake my head. She takes a step away from me and I let out a sigh of relief.

  “What do you want me to do about this?” I ask.

  She takes a step back, folding her arms across her chest. “Nicholas Crawford doesn’t have any money,” she says. “What he does have is a certain set of skills.”

  Her words ‘he doesn’t have any money’ reverberate in my mind like an echo. I hear them over and over again because they confirm my worst fears.

  “Are you listening to me? You have to hear what I’m saying, Olive.”

  I snap my head back. Our eyes meet and I wait.

  “That job he refused to do last night, we need that flash drive. And you are going to help him get it,” she says.

  My mouth drops open.

  “You know about that?” I ask.

  “He thinks that job was optional and as long as he was willing to do it, we were letting him think that. But it’s not and the sooner that he gets that through his head the better it will be for everyone.”

  I lean back against the wall trying to gather my thoughts and say something intelligent. But nothing comes to mind.

  “I’m going to be frank with you, Olive,” she says, getting very close to me as a couple of loud twenty-somethings walk past us on the street. “If we don’t have the flash drive by tomorrow morning, then that bounty on Owen’s head will be paid.”

  My ears start to buzz as all the blood rushes to my head.

  “What are you talking about?” I whisper.

  She starts to walk away and I yell after her again.

  She only answers when I catch up to her.

  “There’s word on the streets that someone wants Owen dead and they’re willing to pay one hundred thousand dollars for it. Well, if you don’t get us that flash drive, we’re going to make it happen.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say when she starts to walk away again. “I don’t know anything about this.”

  “I think you do,” she says. She reaches over to me and presses something into my chest. I flinch worried that it’s a weapon but she just laughs and disappears around the corner.

  On the ground, I find a scrap of paper with a number and the name Janet Bailey on it.

  21

  Olive

  When I have to make a choice…

  I lean against the wall and stand here for a while. The world should be spinning out of control, but for some reason it isn’t.

  Instead, my mind focuses entirely on the details. The bricks feel rough against my palms.

  The alley has a dewy smell that I hadn’t noticed before. The air itself is thick with moisture. Even though it’s unpleasant here, I can’t make myself go out.

  The world is too bright and loud out there. It’s also too fast. No, here I am safe.

  But a man dressed in a leather jacket with its collar popped turns off the street and starts to walk toward me. He takes out a cigarette and asks me for a light. A pang of fear shocks me out of my daze. I quickly tell him that I don’t have one and scurry back out to the street.

  I am not sure where to go or what to do. How much of what Janet said is true I do not know.

  I doubt that’s her real name, for one. But what about the rest?

  I know that Nicholas took that necklace and I know that his partner ended up dead.

  I didn’t want to believe Owen when he said that it was Nicholas who did it but Janet seemed to all but confirm that.

  I know that he had double-crossed his boss, why wouldn’t he double-cross his partner?

  As I walk down the street, getting further and further away from my home, I let my feet do the thinking.

  I don’t know where I am going and I'm fine with that. What I focus on instead is another thing that she mentioned, the part that she thought that I knew.

  Nicholas doesn’t have any money. Owen suspects that as well but Janet confirmed it.

  But what does that mean exactly? And what about his house in Hawaii and all of that first class airfare that he paid for?

  Of course, just because he doesn’t have millions doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have any money.

  But it does mean that he probably doesn’t have the amount that he had promised me.

  I only realize where I am when I walk into the lobby of his five-star hotel and head straight to his room. I knock a few times and no one answers. I knock again.

  “Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he says, clearly surprised to see me. He points to the noise-cancelling headphones around his neck as an explanation.

  “Did we talk about meeting up?” he asks, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “No, I just wanted to come and see you,” I say, walking past him.

  “I wish you had texted,” he says, grabbing the mess of papers off the coffee table.

  I wish I hadn’t texted so much before, I think to myself. I wish I haven’t been such a product of my generation, and always gave warning about where I was and what I was doing.

  “Why? Are you hiding something?” I ask, smiling out of the corner of my lips.

  “No, of course not,” he says, putting his hand around my waist and spinning me around to face him.

  When my eyes meet his, a little part of me melts. His fingers graze the outside of my arm, sending shivers down my spine.

  My lips part. He licks his.

  I feel myself losing control of my body. I raise my hand to his face and touch his mouth.

  Our eyes remain locked on each other’s and I watch as his pupils enlarge.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, touching my neck.

  My cheeks flush red and I lean away from him, embarrassed by my own embarrassment.

  When he touches his lips to mine, I open my mouth and welcome him in.

  The longer we kiss the harder it is for me to remember why I had come here in the first place.

  It’s like my mind becomes blank and the only thing that matters is to touch him and be with him. As my hands move up and down his body, I know that I am not alone in my desire. Nicholas turns off the lights and throws me on the bed.

  22

  Olive

  When I challenge him…

  What the hell did I just do? Lying in his arms, wrapped in about a million-thread count Egyptian cotton sheet, I stare at the ornate ceiling.

  How could I do this? I came here to find out if he was lying to me. I came here to get to the bottom of what is going on and I ended up sleeping with him.

  My lust for him has no bounds. I don’t just want him.

  I crave him. I need him.

  It’s as if I am addicted to him. I have never experienced anything like this before.

  The last time we spoke to each other, we had a fight and yet once I got here, it was as if none of that even mattered.

  He took me into his arms and my mind was wiped clean.

  I nuzzle myself into his armpit and enjoy the cocoon that he has made for me. This is nice but this can’t last.

  I have to say something. I have to talk about this. I steel myself for what’s to come and when I am finally ready to open my mouth, I hear a loud snore.

  I smile and enjoy the excuse to keep lying here. But what is going on with me?

  I have never in my life felt like this before. I miss him when he’s not around. I want to text and talk to him all the time.

  I can
never get enough of him. There are important things going on and yet I can barely bring myself to care.

  I feel like I've been drugged but I don’t want to stop taking it.

  Eventually, my eyelids get heavy and I stop fighting the sleep.

  With Nicholas’ arms firmly around me, I let myself drift off into another world where we can be together and away from all of our problems.

  A loud knock jolts me awake.

  Someone yells, “Housekeeping!” through the door and she doesn’t hear me yell back, “no, thank you.”

  The housekeeper starts to wheel in her large cart and only stops when she sees Nicholas, with the sheet held loosely in front of his torso, wave and ask her to come back.

  “That was a rude awakening.” He laughs, dropping the sheet and jumping back into bed.

  He cradles my head with one of his hands and runs his finger along my lower lip with another.

  My mouth reaches for his and I slide my hands down his chest.

  No, no, no, I keep saying to myself.

  It’s starting to happen again.

  I feel a warm sensation pool in the core of my body as every cell within me seems to yearn for him.

  “No,” I say, pushing him away. “We can’t do it again.”

  “And why not?” he asks with a smile, his hand already cupping my breast. “You coming here was a nice surprise.”

  “That’s not why I came.”

  “Yeah, but it’s why you stayed,” he says.

  Nicholas touches me again but I use all of my energy to not succumb to him.

  I know that I wouldn’t have the strength to do this if we hadn’t fooled around already.

  “No, I want to talk to you about something.”

  He sits back against the headboard. “Ask me anything.”

  My eyelids start to flicker, blink rapidly, without my control.

  I rub the back of my neck as I try to figure out how to start or what to say.

  Should I tell him about Janet? I don’t know.