Naked Hope (31 page)

Gavin caught her, gathering her flailing arms against his body.

But she broke free, shouting, “Why do you hate me, Daddy? Why won’t you show me how to play? I know you want me to.

Gavin carried his daughter from the room.

Jill made no move to follow, allowing the need for emotional healing between father and daughter to take precedence over anything she might do or say.

Edith’s gaze compelled her to go with him.

Jill shook her head resolutely and turned away. Olivia needed her father, and Jill needed space to understand just exactly what had occurred here today.

An hour later, he knocked at her door. “She’s sleeping, now.” His disheveled hair and haunted eyes spoke volumes.

Jill stared, not trusting her voice.

“Jillian

”

She turned away, crossing her arms against a full body shiver and moved to the window, aware that they were in Vivienne’s suite where he’d experienced a lifetime of rejection—and would again, in the next few moments. Her voice measured but far from calm, she asked, “What happened here today?”

“I know what you think but I didn’t intentionally encourage Liv

”

Jill whirled and leveled her gaze on him. “I’ll tell you what happened. Today, everything we’ve worked toward was destroyed. Do you get that? Did you hear her stutter? See the tantrums? The fevered pitch one moment, and her listless inattentiveness the next? We’ve lost her, Gavin. And I don’t know if we’ll ever get her back.”

Unprepared for the internal conflict that raged between her head and her heart, Jill watched. His unrelenting hope had been the one thing that could stand in the way of Olivia ever getting better. And now, the last of his hope had been stripped away. Without hope, he might be as lost as Olivia.

“Please, Jillian. Tell me anything but that.”

Jill’s eyes and throat burned and her lips tightened as she spoke. “I don’t even know where to start. At this point, I could do more harm than good.” She began to pace, short, jerky steps that did nothing to help her control her breathing. “Just last week you acted as if we were imagining things, when all along, you and Steven were working with her. Oh, you were so convincing, Gavin, introducing him as your intern.”

He raked his hands through his hair. “He is my intern. I didn’t intentionally misrepresent him.”

“And you didn’t deceive me? Are you claiming that, too?” She turned to stare back out at the wintry world.

“Sit down, Jillian.”

She put up her hand. “Stop telling me what to do—stop telling everyone what to do. My God, Gavin, when will you ever listen? Why can’t you listen? Why did you have to

why couldn’t you have just let her be

let her find her way to a new life…” She swiped at the tears she could no longer force back. As he spoke, desperation clung to his every word.

“Because I know what it’s like to be separated from the only thing that makes you feel alive. You’ve wondered more than once why I kept Adrienne around, nuisance that she sometimes is.”

Jill kept her back to him, her feet rooted to the floor. Her blood pounded faster. “You’re bringing Adrienne into this? Now?”

“Please, Jillian, hear me out. The first time I met Adrienne, we were ten. She was wild and outrageous even then—frightened of nothing. Her parents barely knew she existed. Most of the time, she was raised by one
au pair
or another because her parents traveled so much. Contrast that to my life, which was tightly controlled by my father who dreamed I’d take over the family business. One day, I was at Adrienne’s—I’d just turned twelve—fooling around at the piano and she said she thought I should have piano lessons. Without realizing it, she’d discovered what I secretly longed for, but I knew Dad wouldn’t approve, so I never pursued it. Still, Adrienne kept at me until I managed to convince Mother. I took piano lessons for about five months. They were the best five months I’d ever had, and then Dad got angry because I never wanted to go to his office, or the shipping yard, or the docks anymore. All I wanted was to play the piano. So he stopped the lessons and got rid of our piano.”

Despite her anger, Jill couldn’t keep from turning toward him.

“He meant well. His brother had died young, broke, alone and sick, having spent his adult life playing piano bars for tips. Dad wouldn’t let that happen to me. But Adrienne insisted I continue—she understood I couldn’t stand to be separated from music. So she took her enormous allowance and got her
au pair
to hire a music tutor from the university. He came to her house twice a week to work with me in secret. Six months later, when my teacher found out my parents weren’t coming to my recital, he called Mother and told her that not only did they need to come to the recital, they needed to get me to New York without delay. That I’d gotten a late start and if I was to become a concert pianist, I needed to study at a music conservatory.”

Gavin slumped into one of the side chairs. “Mother had suspected about the piano lessons, but she didn’t realize how much I needed music. Without telling me, she tricked Dad into coming to the recital. After that, they both gave me their full support, and we moved to New York.”

Jill sat on the edge of the bed and clasped her hands together, fighting the urge to exclaim,
why am I just learning about this now?

Gavin drew a chair close. “The people who loved me most forcibly removed me from music, because they thought they had my best interests at heart and denied me my identity. They told me I had to be someone else because who I was born to be was somehow wrong. Separated from music, I didn’t want to live. If Adrienne hadn’t helped me, I don’t know whether I’d even be alive today.”

He gripped her hands forcing them apart. “That’s why I’ve been so driven. If there was any chance Liv could have her music back, I was willing to take it.”

Jill removed her hands from his, her throat so dry it stuck. “Your parents were well-intentioned, but uninformed. The situation with Olivia is very different. You’re fully informed—you know what the medical evidence indicates.”

“But if there was a chance…” He searched her eyes.

Jill moved to the window, her stomach lurching uneasily like a sinking ship. “Why couldn’t you have told me about this before? I might have better understood what was driving your hope. I might have helped.”

“I’ve always been embarrassed about not standing up to my dad. That I took someone else’s money—Adrienne’s money. My parents paid her back

”

“And she gets a healthy chunk of your residuals,” Jill pointed out.

“Of course,” he agreed. “Or, she did. I fired her last week.”

Jill’s lips were so stiff she could hardly form her words. “Real friends help each other, whether it’s money, emotional support, whatever. Accepting money from Adrienne was a way of allowing her to be the kind of friend she wanted to be. Accepting Adrienne’s help that way doesn’t indebt you. I assume you compensated her at a fair rate for serving as your agent.”

“Yes, she was, but I fired her. We don’t share the same vision.”

Jill leaned against the window frame. “A wise move, I’m sure, but Adrienne is not the issue here. Olivia has been put at risk because you decided not to honor the commitment you made.” She closed her eyes and steeled herself for what she had to say next. “I’ll be in touch about whether the institute has anything to offer Olivia. There are many things to consider before I make that decision. But you and I, we’re over. I can’t trust you. You haven’t just hurt Olivia, you
broke us
.”

She didn’t hear him leave, yet despite the fire that hissed and spit in the fireplace, the room suddenly grew so cold, she knew he was gone.

Nearly finished packing, Edith sought her out. “Don’t be too hard on him, dear. He’s been harder on himself all these months than anyone else ever could be.”

“Perhaps. Yet, he wouldn’t listen to anyone, and look what happened.”

Edith folded her hands. “In fairness, she did respond to Steven at first. And then, she didn’t. Her clarity disappeared as quickly as it had come.”

“Ghost memory.”

“What?”

Jill jerked up the pull bar on her travel case. “
Ghost memory
is a colloquialism for the shadow memory that apparently she accessed for a few days when she first started working with Steven.”

Edith narrowed her gaze and met Jill’s eyes. “Then you understand that he didn’t plan to deceive you.”

Jill straightened. “Are you making excuses for your son, Edith?” Her mouth felt strangely uncooperative. As if her words passed through it unbidden.

The older woman shook her head. “No. But you can see how it crept up on him. Olivia responded to Steven in so many ways, and then one day, she actually played a little music. Gavin thought Steven was on to something—we all did. And Olivia wanted to keep trying.”

“And the result was

is disastrous.”

Edith bowed her head much like her son had earlier.

Jill reached for her purse. “Thank you for having me, Edith.”

Edith blocked the door. “Just a moment. My son was a very lonely man until one day he decided to live again. Do you know when that was? The day after he met you.” She pointed to Jill’s throat. “That heart he gave you is a family heirloom. He asked me for it before he went to New York two months ago so he could take it to Tiffany’s to have the settings cleaned and checked. ”

Jill’s hand flew to the heart at her throat. Her own heart sank as she slowly reached around and worked open the clasp. “I can’t keep this. Please give it back.”

“He’s in love with you, Jillian. If you want to give back the necklace, you’ll have to do that yourself. And now, if you’re ready, Baines will take you home.”

They hadn’t reached the freeway yet when Baines caught Jill’s gaze in the rear view mirror. “Will Miss Olivia be all right?”

Jill frowned. “I don’t know.”

“It was like an avalanche.”

Jill frowned at Baines in the review mirror. Through stiff lips, she asked, “Will you make excuses for him, too?”

“No. But the maestro will never sacrifice his pride and tell you how it all happened.” He wagged his head. “A bloody avalanche. Miss Olivia responded to Steven in a way she hasn’t responded to anyone since the accident. Not even you.”

“Yes, it’s called a crush,” Jill said, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into her voice.

The butler nodded. “Which proves just how powerful love is.”

“You’re equating a crush to love?”

“At that age, yes. Suddenly, she could do things with Steven that she hadn’t done since that terrible night. There was no intention, just momentum.”

“I’m really not interested, Baines.” Jill sank further back into the sumptuous leather seat, but it offered none of its usual comfort.

“The little miss played. She even wrote a few notes and talked as if she understood what she was doing.” He shook his head.

Snow fell, laying a delicate cover of white over everything by the time Baines stopped the Bentley in front of her loft. “Thank you for bringing me home, Baines. You asked if she’ll be all right. Emotionally, she’ll only recover if she can feel as loved without her music as she was with her music. You people must stop expecting Olivia to put right everything that needs righting in this family. Good night.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gavin hung in the doorway. “I understand now.”

He spoke with almost no emotion and looked as if he couldn’t make himself step even a foot into her office.

Yet, she could feel his desperation. Her body churned and she longed to comfort him.

His eyes darkened. “Liv’s in torment. What do I do?”

Jill stood and walked around to the front of her desk. She perched on the edge and studied him. Ashen-faced, wrinkled T-shirt, slack-jawed, he might have passed her by unrecognized.

Except for the ache in his eyes.

“There’s no point in putting Olivia back in the program.”

His body tightened. “My God, don’t say that. I’ve seen what pursuing music has cost her. I’ll do anything you say.”

She crossed her arms. “You’ve abandoned all hope?”

He lowered his head. “I’m saying I care more about her happiness than anything else. And I understand that right now, music won’t make her happy.”

Jill let out her breath. “I’m placing Olivia in a specialized program for the next three weeks where she’ll undergo intensive work with her current team. If she does well, you can consider yourself very fortunate, and we’ll return her to the program. If she doesn’t, she’s out.”

Gavin sagged against the door frame. “What does that mean?”

Jill turned away. “I might not be able to help her. The pressure of unrealistic expectations has forced her into a place so dark, she may not distinguish that pressure from the positive focus and activity we’ll provide over the next three weeks. If that’s the case, then the program will only damage her further. I have no idea how to predict this, Gavin.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. Back still turned, she continued, “Steven must go.”

“He’s gone.”

She heard him change positions.

“Left for Dundee last night.”

Jill picked up a stack of reports and stood them on end before she dropped them back onto her desk. Then she turned to face him. “What was Olivia’s reaction to his departure?”

He shrugged, his eyes hooded. “As you would expect.”

“She’s angry?”

His jaw ticked. “Heartbroken.”

Jill handed him the treatment plan she’d prepared. “You’ll need to familiarize yourself with this. It’s a copy of Olivia’s plan and should be self-explanatory, but I want to call your attention to her three-week assessment on January nineteenth. Please let me know now if that date or time doesn’t work for you. No rescheduling will occur unless you tell me now. I’m joining her team of therapists for the next three weeks. That way, I can know without delay, how things are progressing.”

His shoulders rounded as if devastation collided with relief. “The date is fine. Thank you, Jillian. You getting directly involved is more than I deserve.”

“No, but Olivia does.” She leaned back against her desk and studied him. “She has this one chance, Gavin

” Jill forced herself to stop. No amount of lecture could change the state of things. “You know how to reach me if you have any questions about Olivia.”