The Opportunist
Page 47“Would you have Olivia? Or, were you waiting for me to find out for myself when my memory came back?”
I look up at the ceiling and frown.
“Look, I’m not here to discuss the fact that you are lying, manipulative, and heartless.”
Ouch…
“I’m asking for a personal favor. I know how you feel about her. I know what she did but I need you to make sure she doesn’t go to prison.”
“I want her to go to prison.”
Caleb looks at me strangely, his eyes roam over my face then my hands.
“I don’t. She’s my wife. And, I’m asking that you take my feelings into consideration for once.”
It hurts so much to hear him say ‘wife.’ I know it shouldn’t, but it does.
“You can’t guilt me into defending that viper! Besides, Leah would never agree to it,” I shoot back at him, “there is a mutual hate between the two of us, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Leah will do what I tell her to do. I need your assurance that you will do everything in your power to help her.”
“I can’t,” I am digging my fingernails into my thighs to keep from screaming.
“Yes, you can,” he says, placing both hands on my desk and leaning towards me. “You’re obsessed with your own success—always have been. Take it. Win the case, Olivia. You’ll be rich, famous…and I might even consider forgiving you.”
Forgiveness? I picture myself having dinner at their house; just me, Leah, Caleb and their kids…
I almost laugh out loud.
I glare at him. He’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. Red-head marrying, amnesia getting, bastard!
“I’ll see you in the boardroom at nine o’clock to let you know my decision,” I say, ending the conversation. He gives me a look I can’t decipher and he straightens up to leave.
“Make the right decision, Duchess,” he says before walking out the door.
“Duchess,” I snicker and I throw a stack of sticky notes in his wake.
I take exactly one hour and forty-five minutes to compose myself. The indescribable shock of seeing him after so many years has left me slumped in my chair like a discarded rag doll. I keep seeing the part where he turns around and I splatter coffee out of my nose.
I do breathing exercises. I tranquilize myself with thoughts of happy rainbows and ice cream, but the colors keep turning black and the ice cream melts into a dismal mess. When I have grasped onto some semblance of calm by stabbing a letter opener repeatedly into Leah’s case file, I head over to the boardroom.
“Oh, shut up.”
When I walk into the room, I see Leah first. How could I not? She is still surrounded by a halo of red hair. It seems brighter than four years ago, more vibrant. I wish I had listened to Dobson the ra**st, that day in the rain and gone home, than none of this would be happening.
Caleb stands when I enter. Charming. Leah looks away. Bitter.
“Olivia,” Bernie says beaming at me. “I’d like you to meet Leah Smith and her husband Caleb Drake.” We all shake hands and I take my seat across from them. Caleb who has his arm slung over the back of Leah’s chair, smiles at me like we’re old buds and then winks.
So unfair.
Leah looks at me through her lashes and doesn’t even attempt to smile.
“I’ve reviewed your case, Mrs. Drake—”
“Smith,” she corrects me.
“Right. I pride myself on being honest, so I’m going to tell you upfront that the prosecution has an air tight case. ”
Caleb grunts a little at my mention of honesty. Leah looks green. I continue, despite the dirty looks Bernie is giving me. She thinks I’m going to scare them off and ruin the firm’s chance with the case. “They have witnesses that are willing to take the stand and testify that you had everything to do with doctoring the results of the drug, Prenavene.”
“The current DA has the highest prosecution rate in the state of Florida. They are going to come after you for this with their guns pointed, do you understand that? Everything that you are, who your father was—it’s all going to come out in court. When they are done, there won’t be a lie left to expose.”
Leah stares at me blankly. I know I have scared her far worse than I should have. There are tears swimming in her eyes. I go in for the kill.
“You don’t always win,” I say, looking at her pointedly. She looks up at me, recognition fresh in her eyes. The room is quiet. Everyone is either aware that there is something going on or they are asleep. I don’t move my eyes from Leah.
“Can you help me?” she says, finally and I hear the desperate strain in her voice. I sit back in my chair.
This is something—my nemesis asking me for help. I knew karma would come for both of us but geez, it’s really kicking her ass. I have control of her life. I look at Caleb. I have control of his life too. I take my time answering her. Standing up, I walk with my hands clasped behind my back.
“I can.”
She seems to visually sag in relief. “What are you willing to do to be found innocent in this case?” She was silent for a moment as she studied my face, the same way I was studying hers. Then, she leans forward in her seat, resting her bright red fingernails on the conference table like she is touching piano keys.
“Anything. I’ll do anything.” And as I sit there bound in a moment so frigidly tense I get goose bumps. I believe her. We are the same. Both of us are willing to barter with our souls to ensure our happiness. We’ve loved the same man. We’ve engaged in a dirty, tug-of-war to possess him, and we both have something to atone for.
I take the case. I will have to discredit their witnesses, demonize her father and paint Leah into the good person that she is not. I’m not doing this for my career—despite what Caleb thinks. I’m doing this for the time he pulled over and refused to keep driving until I sang along with “Achey, Breaky, Heart,” and for the time he kissed me on his bedroom floor while holding my hands above my head. I am doing this because he still calls me Duchess.