Olivia Grey caught sight of the paparazzi gathered outside her shop in Dublin and felt her heart plummet. Why couldn’t they leave her alone? She had barely met her father and knew nothing about his death. The crowded sidewalk provided a cover for a few precious seconds as she readied herself for the exchange to come. Olivia tried to make sense of the events of the past few hours but in truth she felt as if she just stepped off a roller coaster and was attempting to stay upright.
“Ms. Grey, were you close to your father? What do you think caused the motorcycle accident?” A reporter asked her.
Olivia met the reporter’s stare and simply said, “It’s quite tragic and sad. There is nothing else that can be said.”
“Are you attending the funeral?” The young man asked her as he pointed a device at her.
“I have nothing further to add.” Olivia steadfastly moved past the reporter and photographer while keeping her face neutral and her gaze averted as she heard the rapid-fire click of a camera, concentrating all of her effort on unlocking the door to her shop and disappearing inside.
“Ms. Grey, is it true that you were raised by a guardian?”
Olivia closed the door and felt a wave of anger wash over her. She was shaken by the audacity of the reporter. What gave him the right to ask such private questions? What would the media print about her if they knew the truth? Locking the door behind her, she decided to leave the closed sign in place and began to think about escaping the media blitz.
Moving around the design showroom, Olivia allowed routine to take over as she flipped on the lights and put away bolts of fabric, cleaning the large work tables and placing the antique dress forms in size order.
She heard her cell phone vibrate and glanced at it. The number displayed as out of area and she decided against answering it and instead slipped it into her bag.
Olivia heard someone fumbling with a key in the lock so she went over and pulled the door open. Agnes tumbled in looking weary and downtrodden just as her first client of the day approached the entrance; it took enormous effort to get both of them inside without engaging the journalists looking for a tidbit of information.
“Olivia, what is going on?” her client asked as she removed her coat, “Are you expecting a celebrity?”
“No, it’s a bit more complicated than that.” Olivia took the coat then motioned for the woman to go into the fitting room. “The gown is coming together perfectly. I can make the final adjustments if you try it on.”
Olivia waited for the woman to close the fitting room door before looking at Agnes.
Agnes whispered to her, “I saw your photograph on the news this morning and the phone is ringing off the hook. It’s not just online anymore. I think we should leave Dublin for a few days.”
Olivia shook her head, “The timing couldn’t be worse. We have so many custom orders for the gala next week. Business is just beginning to take hold.”
“I know dear. But your father’s death has brought up old scandals. It would be safer to leave for a while.” Agnes paused for a moment before plowing on, “Mr. Lynch called this morning and said he needs to speak with you urgently.”
Olivia seethed inwardly. Fionn Lynch. She had no interest in speaking with her father’s successor about her relationship with the Bolles family. His image had been seared into her mind from looking at news clips and photographs online early in the morning. The media described him as a math prodigy, brilliant with formulas yet ruthless to the core when building his financial empire. Olivia knew the media was obsessed with him because he was hot, obscenely wealthy and took risks that would bankrupt most companies.
“I have no desire to speak with Mr. Lynch. The Bolles family will need to sort this out on their own.” Olivia said to her guardian as she recalled the directive that the arrogant business mogul had left earlier on her cell phone.
“I don’t think ignoring the problem will help, dear.” Agnes told her kindly.
Olivia knew that Agnes was right but she reminded herself that being pulled into the spotlight wouldn’t solve anything. She heard her client coming out of the fitting room and knew the discussion would have to wait.
Olivia watched the flow of the custom gown as her client glided into the studio. She noted the teal color of the pale organza silk design complimented the woman’s complexion. There were minor adjustments needed so she pinned the modifications as the woman chatted nonstop about the charity event she would be attending.
The woman fell silent for a moment before asking, “If you are not expecting a celebrity, why are so many reporters on your doorstep?”
Olivia accidently jabbed herself with a pin and could feel tears forming in her eyes. “I just need a moment,” Olivia said as she walked across the shop and disappeared into the private bathroom. She could hear Agnes explaining the situation to the client in a hushed tone.
Splashing cold water on her face, Olivia examined her pale reflection in the mirror. She refused to shed tears for a father she never knew. As she gently blotted her face dry, she sternly reminded herself that a stranger’s unexpected death shouldn’t affect her. He had abandoned her even before she was born and had apparently agreed with her mother that a guardian should oversee her care. So why did it feel like she was becoming unhinged? It was almost as if a torrent of emotion wanted to break free. She tried to identify the feeling but gave up almost instantly as she decided it didn’t matter how she felt; only that she survived the speculation about her.
Stepping back into the shop, she noticed her client had approached the mirror to admire the elaborate dress as Agnes finished the pinning.
“Olivia, the embroidery on the bodice is breathtaking. I can’t wait to wear it.” The woman’s eyes remained fixed on the mirror.
Olivia nodded briefly saying, “You look lovely. I’ll have it delivered to you within the next couple of days.”
Agnes helped the woman back to the dressing room.
Walking over to her desk, she flipped open her design schedule. Olivia noticed her hands were shaking and took a deep breathe to calm herself. She needed her wits about her or the media would be merciless.
She made herself focus on the task at hand. Beyond a few custom designs, she owed inventory to several boutiques. When Agnes returned from helping the client out of the gown, she helped her pack up the unfinished work in a black transport case along with the relevant paperwork knowing that she would send it to her best seamstress.
The unsettling images she had seen on the internet were still trying to infiltrate every thought she had. Her father seemed to be a man in the prime of his life with a loving family. She recalled images of his teenage son and beautiful wife. Olivia blocked out all thought and methodically went about calling her clients to cancel their appointments and as a last resort sent a text to a client who didn’t pick up her call.
Her heart seemed to be racing as she finished organizing all of the details concerned with keeping her business functioning from another location. Placing her phone and files in her bag, she straightened the papers on her desk while her mind tried to make sense of being told her father had been killed in an accident.
What would the media say about her now that the story of her parents’ illicit affair had broken? The speculation around the time of her mother’s death years ago was horrid. She remembered vividly her mother living a lavish lifestyle as a highly sought after performer. Even though she never publically acknowledged Olivia, she was always behind the scenes asking about school work or insisting on voice lessons. But she never mentioned her father. Banishing the old memories, Olivia brought her thoughts back to the present and the coming ordeal.
It took an inordinately long time for her client to leave but as soon as she did, Agnes came and swiftly hugged her before stepping back awkwardly.
The older woman had dressed in her usual plaid jumper and serviceable shoes but somehow Olivia could recognize a sense of worry clinging to her as she said, “I know this h
as rattled you but life will get back to normal. In a few months you will barely think about any of this.”
Olivia nodded and tried to reassure her guardian that she was fine by smiling slightly and saying, “Yes. You should go to your sister’s house for a few days and enjoy a visit with her.”
“What will you do?” Agnes asked.
Olivia carefully kept any hesitation out of her voice. “I’ll take the train to a Bed and Breakfast somewhere outside of the city.”
Agnes looked at her searchingly, “I don’t want you to be alone.”
Olivia took the gown that Agnes had helped her client take off and placed it in the case for her seamstress. “Could you drop off this case with Clara on your way?”
She noticed that Agnes hesitated. “Yes, dear. But will you be safe?”
Olivia walked Agnes to the door. “I need time to take all of this in and there is less of a chance the media will find me if we separate. You should be on your way. I’ll leave a few minutes after you.”
Olivia felt an odd sensation watching her guardian leave her. For the first time, in a very long time, Olivia realized she felt unsettled and worried about the future. It reminded her of the time just following her mother’s death when she had been barely thirteen years old and worried that she would be taken away from her guardian. She reminded herself she was now an adult and her father’s death would have little impact on her beyond a few days of media scrutiny.
She turned off lights and checked to make sure the windows and back door were locked.
The bell to her shop buzzed. She guessed the paparazzi must be getting impatient. She decided to flag a taxi down instead of taking the metro but worried she would be followed.
Deciding to just brazed out the media camped on her doorstep, Olivia wrenched the door open and froze. Fionn Lynch. She was horrified to realize that he was a thousand times more captivating in the flesh.
“Ms. Grey, my sincere condolences for the loss of your father,” Fionn stopped within inches of her and didn’t seem bothered by the paparazzi continuing to snap photographs of them.
Olivia stepped back in silent retreat as he walked into her shop.
She firmly closed the door and moved away from the large windows. Apprehension skittered along her frayed nerves but she deliberately ignored it.
“You have wasted your time in coming here. I can’t possibly help with any of this.” Olivia’s stiff words were meant to push him away. The sooner Fionn Lynch realized she would refuse to cooperate, the sooner he would find another way of saving his precious company.
His eyes narrowed. “So you are content with the paparazzi documenting all of your movements and speculating on your strange upbringing?” His words were clipped and smooth and she could feel her panic rising. Without skipping a beat, he added. “I imagine your clients may not be quite so accommodating.”
She held his gaze. “You know nothing about my life or what I’m willing to accept.”
He moved closer to her and she forced herself to remain still. “I know you are terrified of the publicity. And right now you are looking for a place to escape the media speculation surrounding you but lack the financial resources or experience that would allow you to find a safe haven.” His eyes grazed hers and her body suddenly felt too hot. “I imagine you are feeling vulnerable.”
He wasn’t even touching her yet she felt an overwhelming response to him. Olivia forced a controlled breath into her lungs. “I didn’t know Oliver Bolles. The only thing I learned about him this morning is that he liked to live life on the edge. He drove fast cars, did extreme sports and even flew his own plane.”
“Whereas, you prefer safety and routine?” His words sounded silky and smooth, but she knew he was baiting a trap. “Do you expect to stay locked behind these doors indefinitely?”
Olivia kept her facial expression neutral. “I intend to take some time off until the speculation dies down.”
There were so many unanswered questions that her head began to throb. Why had he let her grow up in the care of a guardian? Now that he died tragically, why would his family seek her out? What did they want from her?
“Where do you intend to go?” His words goaded her.
“I don’t need to answer your questions.” Olivia moved away from him but could feel his eyes on her the entire time.
He was looking at her with an intensity that pierced her skin and caused her blood to heat. Olivia thought Fionn wasn’t a man that one would easily forget. She realized he could be a model with his aristocratic presence, black hair and eyes so dark and intense that Olivia felt overwhelmed.
He held her gaze and stepped closer to her. “We are in the center of an impending storm and you need to seek refuge by reaching out to the family.”
“I read that you and Oliver had a falling out years ago and had become adversaries.” Olivia surprised herself by actually voicing her thoughts aloud.
Olivia saw his heightened tension in the muscle flickering at the base of his jaw but she noticed he merely shrugged, saying “I would be careful about believing everything you read online. In fact, your father and I were in the process of negotiating the sale of Greyson Lynch. Given the circumstances, the family has asked for my help at this difficult time.”
Olivia guessed he was in his early thirties, and was impressed with how polished and seemingly in control he was. She noted his accent sounded more Irish than American.
“I don’t know why you have come here. I can’t possibly help you with any of this.”
His words were clipped and direct. “As I explained in the messages I left for you, it is expected that you will attend the funeral in London tomorrow.”
Suddenly she felt at a disadvantage. She knew nothing about her father or his family. “I don’t understand how attending the funeral could possibly help the situation. If anything it will cause more speculation.”
Olivia watched in fascination as he ran a hand through his black hair. “You are his daughter whether you had a relationship with him or not, and as such you are named in his trust. You have some responsibility to the family to show up and take part in the grieving process.”
Olivia turned away from him. So that was it. She was named in his trust so they couldn’t ignore her existence. “It would be a mistake.”
His voice softened. “It must have come as a terrible shock, finding out about your father’s death in the news.” He seemed to pause to let the message sink in.