She took strength from that, and as she headed to Cole’s house, she thought about what Tanner had said. Without a doubt, Cole deserved a shot at happiness again.
But the problem was, she did not.
Olivia didn’t find Cole at his place, or anywhere. She ended up back at her own apartment, where Becca was pacing the hallway.
Becca whipped around, spotted Olivia, and said, “About damn time. Is it true?”
“What?”
“That you’re some child star from Nickelodeon?”
Unbelievable. Though she shouldn’t have been surprised, not with Lucille on the scent. And this was, after all, Lucky Harbor, where crime was rare but gossip spread like wildfire. “It’s true,” she said.
Becca stared at her. “Wow,” she finally said. “Cool.”
“Not cool,” Olivia said, and gave her the CliffsNotes version of the situation with her family and Cole. “And also, I’m pretty sure the geriatric gang is busy putting out a hit on me.”
“They do move fast,” Becca said, and hugged Olivia. “Tough day. My sympathies.”
“You’re not pissed off at me?”
“Honey, no one understands self-protection as much as I do,” Becca said quietly.
Olivia remembered sitting with Becca in a rehab waiting room, clutching hands as Becca watched her brother check himself in.
Yeah. Becca knew all about it.
“You’ll explain it to him,” Becca said. “It’ll be okay.”
“Hello, have you met him? Once he gets a thought in his head, it’s in cement.”
Becca grinned. “Okay, so you go to him and make him listen to you. After you knock some sense into him, you tell him you love him and—”
“I didn’t say I love him.”
“Didn’t have to,” Becca said.
Olivia stared at her as her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, and answered cautiously. “Hello?”
“He’s at the Love Shack,” Tanner said without preamble. “Talking to Sam, finally. Go do your best. And I mean your best. Our boy put ornery into the dictionary. You got a frying pan to hit him over the head with?”
Olivia slid a look at Becca. “I’ll work on that. Thanks.”
“I’m not kidding about the frying pan,” Tanner said. “You’ve got your work cut out for you, but I’m still rooting for you.”
Her throat tightened. “Thanks for your help.” She disconnected and turned to Becca. “I’ve gotta go.”
Becca locked her door. “Where we headed?”
“We?”
“I’m your wingman, remember?”
Olivia stared at her. “I don’t deserve you as a wingman.”
“Now you’re going to piss me off,” Becca said mildly, and squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”
Sure enough, Cole was in the Love Shack with Sam. The bar was filled. In one corner were the bluehairs. Olivia looked at Lucille. “I thought you were having tea.”
“Yep.” Lucille lifted a glass. “I’ve got a little bit of tea right here in my brandy.” She gestured to a table across the way where Cole sat with Sam. “You here to make it right?”
Olivia looked over at Cole and felt her heart catch. “Yes.”
Lucille smiled. “Attagirl.”
Olivia took a deep breath and headed toward the guys’ table. She could feel eyes on her, and she realized she’d just come up against her first real negative of living in a small town.
News traveled fast. And she was news, of that she was positive. It was in the curious gazes as she waded through the bar and grill. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt judged.
Vulnerable.
She drew a deep, steady breath and pretended she was on a sound set. A closed sound set. Everyone around her was just doing a job. Their job was protecting their own, and their own was Cole.
She understood that.
“You’ve got this,” Becca said in her ear, reminding Olivia she wasn’t as alone as she’d thought.
“Thanks,” she whispered to her wingman, and strode straight up to the guys.
Sam looked surprised as hell.
Not Cole. He met her gaze slowly, giving nothing away.
“You were right,” she said. “I was keeping secrets, but it wasn’t just you. I was keeping secrets from everyone. See, the very nature of a secret is that you don’t want it revealed. And that gives it power over you. Terrible power.”
“Everyone has secrets,” he said. “I get that. I’m not angry at that. I’m angry that I trusted you with mine; I opened up and gave you a part of me. I told you about my failures, and you withheld yours.”
“You loved someone,” she said. “It didn’t work out. There’s no failure or shame in that. But you have to understand, my whole life was a failure. You try dealing with that, Cole. For years I was successful, until I wasn’t, and it felt like the world watched me fail. Everyone knew me as Sharlyn, the loser child star.”
“Not me,” he said. “I knew you as…you.” He paused. “So what was real?” he asked. “Any of it? Or was it all a fiction you created?”
“We all create a fiction,” she said, aware that the whole damn place had gone quiet, but she couldn’t pay attention to that without losing her nerve. “But it was all real for me,” she said, and oh, God, how his look of disbelief hurt. “Yes, I should’ve told you who I was. I know that. But the truth is, I’m ashamed of Sharlyn Peterson, a spoiled child star who ended her career with a public meltdown. I’m not ashamed of Olivia Bentley, a hardworking woman who just wanted to be herself and live her life.” Just saying it out loud made her mad, and maybe it was unreasonable since she’d brought this whole thing on herself, but she found she was revving up to a good temper.