The Proverbial Mr. Universe (2 page)

“Well, not really. I don’t want to keep him waiting.” Catching his reflection in the glass window, he straightened his silk blue tie.

He gave her a side glance. “I told you, you should have worn the blue dress. At least, we would have matched tonight.”

Who were they, Laverne and Shirley?

“I don’t believe this shit; I’ve been trying to close this deal for weeks.”

Dario had been irritating her all night. She was not excited at the prospect of being paraded all around the room like this was some circus and she was the show’s main attraction. Her fiancé seemed to miss the point of what should have been a joyous occasion for them. Instead, he had made it out to be something else entirely. Olivia wondered how she allowed herself to get lost in someone else’s life. Was there any hope of getting hers back?

Olivia nervously spun her ring around, itching to take it off like it was a cheap wool sweater. This ridiculous, massive diamond ring would make most woman happy.

Not her.

Dario hadn’t proposed to her the way she’d always imagined. One day he began bringing up the subject of marriage. He’d discussed it like it was some business deal and he was talking to one of his clients. She’d frowned, knowing Dario wasn’t much of a romantic, but still … when they were ready to take the next step in their relationship, she never thought it would feel like a hostile takeover.

He quickly glanced at her. “God, Olivia, would it hurt you to smile?”

She closed her eyes, holding on to a long breath and walked away.

“Olivia?”

Turning the corner, she opened a door leading to the large terrace. As soon as it closed, there was an instant quietness and serenity. It was as though she could finally breathe again. Only the faint of sounds of cars and trucks heading east and west came from below. The city seemed so vast and endless, and it made her feel minute and insignificant. The Place Ville-Marie had the most spectacular panoramic view of the entire metropolis. It was one of the reasons why Dario wanted to have their engagement party here at the penthouse. It was once a nightclub, which was closed for nearly a year, but her father had connections to make it happen. Here she was, at the top of the tower with a rotation beacon that could be seen across the night sky. Standing so high up, she felt like Rapunzel … but she was far from getting her fairy tale ending.

The air was cold and it lightly danced on Olivia’s bare skin. It should have made her shiver, but at the moment Olivia didn’t care if it was the middle of winter and all she had on was her strapless, red, designer dress. It cascaded all the way to the ground, and she let it drag in the snow as she walked closer to the end of the gallery. Dario had made the staff remove as much snow as possible to give the smokers a place. It had been five years since Olivia lit her last cigarette and at this moment, she desperately needed one.

Where the hell was Paul?

She gazed at the view in front of her. The city was twinkling with millions of lights. She could see as far as the St. Laurence river and beyond to the South shore. She’d lived in this city all her life, but knew very little of it.

The beacon light flashed across the sky, forcing her eyes back up again. They landed on the biggest and brightest star. Written on those stars, something big was about to happen, something completely exceptional. What would she wish for? Happiness? Love? A great career? Hadn’t she possessed all those things already? Most of her friends thought so. Olivia felt numb because she knew the reality of it. When it came down to looking at the fine print, it was a different story. These days the thread had been unraveling quicker than she could ever imagine.

For several weeks, Olivia struggled with the feeling that she was not living the life that was intended for her. Why was it so hard to be happy? Olivia thought about Dario. Even if she did believe in soul mates, Dario wasn’t it. Over time, Olivia thought she could change him, but it turned out it had been Olivia who did all the changing. At first, she told herself Dario only wanted the best for her. Lies.

She thought she could live with the fact Dario was a workaholic like her father, and it didn’t bother her.

More lies.

She believed Dario was marrying her because he loved her and not because of her father’s wealth or connections.

More. More. Lies.

The truth had been in front of her all along, but she refused to see it for many reasons.

“Olivia? For God’s sake, what are you doing out here?”

She slowly turned around. The color purple suited her sister well. The cut of the dress fit her like a glove. Her hair, all pinned up, gave her the allure of old Hollywood glamour. Her sister passed her four years in age, but everyone always told her they look so much alike. Olivia never thought they resembled each other much, except they both inherited the same big caramel eyes from their mother. Olivia was always grateful for her siblings and growing up they had always been close. Nina was a Daddy’s girl, and Paul was a Mama’s boy … Olivia fell somewhere in between.

“God, it’s cold out here.” Nina braced herself from the cold.

“Where’s Paul?”

Nina shrugged. “He said you wanted to do something destructive? What’s that all about?” She paused. “Are you crying?”

Nina pulled her dress up, carefully walking closer to her.

“I don’t think I can go through with this.”

“With what?” Nina’s eyebrows meshed together.

“I can’t go through with this charade … I can’t marry Dario.” Olivia covered her face with her hands.

Nina yanked Olivia into an embrace. “Hey … hey, it’s going to be alright. Liv, seriously stop! You’re going to get mascara all over yourself and on me.” Nina pulled back and reached into her purse, pulling out a tissue for her sister. “I know what’s going on …”

“You … do?” Olivia took the Kleenex out of her sister’s hand, wishing Nina could just read her mind without her having to say a single word.

“It’s just cold feet.”

Olivia’s heart slumped. She knew it was more than cold feet, but how was Nina to know. Olivia had been hiding everything from her family. There was so much they didn’t know about her relationship with Dario.

“I got cold feet before I married Peter. It’s only normal. It happens to some people.”

“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No, it’s true. Ask him.”

“Peter is good to you.”

“Yeah, Liv. All men are brilliant in the beginning. They bring you flowers, sweep you off your feet, and when you marry them, it becomes a different story.” Nina paused, bringing her arms higher around herself.

“All of a sudden you become this freaking 1950’s housewife. Freaking picking up his dirty socks at the end of the bed. Every. Freaking. Morning. Somehow they seem to forget what the laundry basket is for.” Nina gave her a toothy grin.

“But you love him.”

“Sure I do. We’ve been together for so long, but sometimes I wish we could go back to the beginning. To the days of all kinds of crazy fun-time.” Her smile faded. “Marriage is not a fairy tale, Olivia. Other things come into the picture. Mortgage, bills, kids and life has a way of sucking the romance right out of it. There are plenty of days I swear Peter gets on my nerves. I could just choke him … but, when I force myself to stop and think back to the first moment I saw him, and why I love him, it renews my faith in us.”

“Going back to the beginning is always an amazing thing. I don’t know … maybe I’m not explaining myself well.”

Olivia realized relationships went through all kinds of changes. They evolved into something else, leaving a remnant of its former obsessive, passionate love behind. But if you didn’t have the love to sustain the relationship, any snag could cause everything to unravel. She had heard this speech or something like it before, from Aunt Teresa to the sweet Chinese lady next door. It seemed everyone had a piece of advice for her ever since she got engaged.

Her dilemma was quite simple: what if she was making a terrible mistake by settling down before meeting the person she was supposed to love? At the beginning of her relationship with Dario, she couldn’t call it a great love story. Olivia wasn’t sure what had sustained their relationship all this time. Perhaps it was love, but lately, she started to realize it had been her father. He was the one who’d set them up.

There was nothing more motivating than the fear of disappointing a parent.

Nina jumped at the sound of the crackling noise of the door opening behind them and placed her hand on her chest. “Ma, you scared the shit out of me,” Nina said.

“Sei pazzo? I didn’t think you were crazy enough to be out here. Quick, get inside! You’re both going to get sick.”

Their mother’s voice came through the slightly opened glass door. She looked sophisticated in her shift dress and white pearls, emulating the Jackie O. look. Even though their mother arrived in Canada as a young girl, she never managed to hide her Italian accent when she spoke English or French.

“We’re coming, Ma.” Nina began to shake even more. “I don’t know about you, but I’m a freaking ice cube. Please tell me you’re ready to go in.”

Olivia nodded.

“Are you okay?” Nina asked.

“Yeah … sure … I’m just overwhelmed.” Olivia used the same excuse she told her brother earlier.

Moments later she spotted Dario from across the room, standing closely to a very attractive blonde. At what point did she forget she had other choices?

O
livia wondered why people always liked the skewed version of reality, but now she understood. It was so much easier to live a lie than to face the truth. Ever since the night of her engagement party, she couldn’t think about her life without calling everything into question.

“Olivia … Hello, Olivia?”

She turned away from the window and glanced at Dario in the driver’s seat. He looked at her with his dark brown eyes. She remembered the first time she saw those eyes; her heart used to skip a beat, yet now, nothing.

She was almost nineteen, Dario twenty-five when they first met at one of her father’s charity functions. Olivia had a weakness for older men—the smartly dressed, tall, brown, curly hair, and eyes that could melt any woman’s heart kind.

“What’s the matter with you?” Dario asked. “You seem distant this morning.”

Only this morning?

He had volunteered to drive since her car was in the workshop. “Your slouching again, sit straight. You have such bad posture,” he said.

Now, she regretted not taking a taxi instead.

“Geez, Olivia, are you listening to anything I said?”

“Sorry, Dario, I have a lot of things on my mind.” Her eyes remained steadfast on the window.

Olivia was hoping he would get the drift; she was in no mood for any small talk. For the past two weeks, they’d been fighting more and seeing each other less, which surprisingly she began to appreciate.

She couldn’t understand why she even bothered to make an effort to reconnect last night by surprising him with dinner. When Dario came home, he told her he had eaten already and went straight into his office, leaving her alone in the kitchen, deflated like a balloon. Olivia thought back to last night and how she had locked herself in their bathroom, silently crying herself. Dario was unaware … but would he have cared? She was trying not to pity herself; then she realized Dario wasn’t the first man in her life to disappoint her.

“We’re going to shoot the fall campaign ads next week.” She looked down to her hands.

“Okay, so what’s your point?”

She turned to look at him and wished he could at least pretend to show some enthusiasm for once. She had worked so hard on this collection and was proud and excited of the turnout. This was Olivia’s opportunity to show her boss what she was capable of.

Olivia frowned. “I’m excited about it.”

“Oh, right.” His eyes remained on the road.

He gave her a side glance, as though he wanted to tell her something, but he took his time, choosing his words carefully as not to convey anything more to her than he wanted to.

“Listen, I have a lot of work to do at the office…” he cleared his throat “…so I am going to have to cancel our dinner date tonight.”

“Seriously? You’re canceling on me again?”

“I have no choice. Everything is on my shoulders ever since your dad promoted me.”

Dario was an architect and had worked for her father’s company for the past five years. At thirty, with his determination and wit, he had made a good career for himself. Dario was the kind of guy who strategically placed himself where he wanted to be. At the beginning of their relationship, Olivia had found those qualities quite admirable, over time … not so much.

When Olivia didn’t answer, he continued. “I’ll make it up to you, babe. I promise.”

Olivia pondered those words way too many times, only to be left more disappointed.

“Next week I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant … ah … Donna’s?

Lucky guess, but no. It just showed how little he knew her. Who did he have dinner with at Donna’s? The five years they’d been together, she’d never eaten there.

She frowned. “Rouge Tomate,” she said dryly.