Page 44 of Acquiring Ainsley
“Then why are you on the phone?”
“Because you clearly don’t get it. Still. After all this time.” I sighed. “Stop calling me. Stop texting me. Stop emailing me. And stop sending me flowers. It’s not going to work.”
“What do you mean?” She let out some high-pitched laugher. I pulled the phone away from my ear, punched it onto speaker, and put the phone on my desk. “I think it already has worked, honey. You called me.”
“Only to tell you to leave me alone. To stop this. If you don’t, I’m calling the police.”
I sat in my desk chair and cursed myself for the thousandth time about what could only be described as an “Olivia situation.” I should never have allowed myself to become involved with this woman.
Never.
There weren’t many ways that I could describe what an epic disaster my time with her had been. Words didn’t really bear it out. It had been a mistake from the start, and unequivocally, the worst decision I’d ever made. Three years since the relationship ended, and she still wanted to control me.
“You can’t love her,” Olivia purred. “I saw photos of you at the International Refugee fund gala. Ainsley Ross is not interested in you that way. I’m sorry, Trevor, but she’s not. She hasn’t given you her heart, and even if she has one, it will never be yours. She’s in it for herself, and that’s it. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but someone has to be honest.”
I tightened my jaw. We’d only been speaking for a few minutes, but already she exhausted me. And each passing second only threatened to send me backward into a world I wanted to forget, a time when co-dependency and dysfunction ruled my life.
“You don’t know anything about the way things are between us. Besides, we shouldn’t be talking right now. The restraining order might be expired, but I have no problem reinstating it.”
She demurred. “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
She cleared her throat. “All I want is for us to meet for coffee. Discuss what we have between us. Besides, I need to formally apologize to you, and my therapist recommends that I do that in person.”
“Meet in person? Hardly. Does your therapist know what it is that you need to apologize for?” I remembered those fateful, unpleasant weeks in the south of France. The whole incident, and the false allegations against me, had left such a rotten taste in my mouth that I never wanted to go there again.
“Yes.”
“Does she know that I had a restraining order against you?”
She didn’t answer.
“Sounds like I just got the answer to my question,” I said. “And either way, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want you to apologize, Olivia. I want you to leave me alone. Don’t ever call me again.”
“But—”
“Leave me alone. Forever.”
I hung up the phone in time for Nancy to ring through on the office intercom system. “Mr. McNamara?” The clipped, rushed tone of her Queens accent spilled from the speaker. “Miss Ainsley Ross is in the lobby, and she wants to see you. Should I send her in?”
My stomach flipped. Perfect timing. “Give me a moment, please.” I deposited the roses in the closet that housed my overcoat and two extra business suits. The card went on the floor next to my shoes. I made a mental note to throw them out later. “Send her in.”
Ainsley entered my office about twenty seconds later. She wore a large black wool coat with a camel-colored fur collar, pointed black boots, and a black dress.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” I said as I crossed the room, feeling the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Ever since our time together at the rec center, I’d felt my admiration and attraction to her growing at a rapid pace. When I got to her side, though, I reached out to take her by the arm, and she stiffened. My hand fell back to my side. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
Her tone of voice told me it wasn’t. So did the tension building in the room.
“Are you sure?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, then shook her head. “No, I’m not sure. And no, I’m not okay. I'm—”
“Please,” I prompted. “Have a seat.” I guided her over to the dark leather loveseat and two wingback chairs that made up the reception area of my office. She sat down in one of the chairs but didn’t take off her coat.
I took that as a very, very bad sign.
