TO HAVE & HAVE NOT

62

Olivia

Johnny and I had just wrapped up our delightful dinner, savoring the last bites of our meal. As we finished, Johnny took care of the bill, his usual generosity shining through. With the check settled, we stood up to leave, sharing a satisfied glance that spoke volumes about the good time we had enjoyed together. Just as we were about to exit the bustling restaurant, we noticed Steve approaching us, his face etched with concern.

"Johnny, someone found out about the location," he stated, urgency lacing his words. His voice carried a weight that instantly shifted the atmosphere around us.

"What?" Johnny replied, his brows furrowed deeply, mirroring the apprehension that had suddenly filled my own heart. "How is that even possible? Nobody knows except us," he continued, searching Steve's face for answers.

"It's okay, I've got an idea," Steve declared, attempting to reassure us as he took charge of the situation. With a firm but gentle grip, he guided us towards the kitchen, a place that seemed to pulse with a frenetic energy of its own. I intertwined my fingers with Johnny's, feeling his tension, as we moved in closer to the bustling chef who was busy plating dishes for other patrons.

"I assure you, Johnny, nobody has said anything about you two being here. We would never do such a thing," the chef firmly stated, his expression earnest and sincere as he locked eyes with Johnny.

Johnny's tension lessened somewhat, and he placed a hand on the chef's shoulder, showing his appreciation. "No, I know you wouldn't do that," he replied, his voice softening. "I trust you."

The chef smiled, relieved by Johnny's faith in him. "Can I get you any more wine? Perhaps some dessert to brighten the mood?" he offered, his tone shifting from serious to inviting.

Johnny looked at me, a mischief dancing in his eyes as a playful smile crept onto his face. He shrugged slightly before voicing the conundrum we now faced, "You know what, my love? We've got two choices here: we can go out there and confront whatever is waiting for us, or we can hide in this cozy haven and indulge in some delicious cake. Which one do you want to do, my love?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation, the weight on my heart momentarily lifted by Johnny's lightheartedness. "What kind of dessert do you have?" I inquired, turning towards the chef, as I caught the infectious laughter of Johnny and Steve next to me, blending harmoniously amid the bustling kitchen sounds. It felt oddly comforting to be surrounded by the warmth of this culinary space, even as uncertainty loomed outside those kitchen doors.

Two hours later, the tension that had filled the air since we arrived began to dissipate when Steve finally reported back to us. "The paparazzi have cleared out. We're safe to leave now," he said, his tone relieved. I exchanged a quick glance with Johnny, and in an instant, we both sprang into action. Without a moment to waste, we scrambled into the back seat of the car, eager to escape the chaos that had briefly consumed our evening. Steve, clearly motivated to get us to safety, slid into the driver's seat and revved the engine. Within moments, we were off, the hum of the tires against the asphalt somewhat comforting as we sped away.

It was only ten minutes down the road to Johnny's house, a journey both exhilarating and tense, each passing second filled with the thrill of being together again, yet overshadowed by the earlier commotion.

As we pulled into his driveway, the weight of the earlier incident hung in the air. Johnny looked pensive as he turned to me. "I don't know how that happened," he remarked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't know who would have called them. I am so sorry about that, my love." His concerned gaze met mine, and I could feel the warmth radiating from him, grounding me even amidst confusion.

I quickly shook my head, trying to dismiss his worries. "No," I replied, my voice steady. "It's okay. I had a great time with you." I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, hoping to bridge the gap of uncertainty between us.

Yet, despite my reassurances, I couldn't shake the deep-seated feeling of guilt gnawing at me. I knew exactly what had gone wrong, and the truth of it weighed heavily on my heart. It was all my fault. Earlier that evening, as I was putting the finishing touches on my outfit for the date with Johnny—carefully choosing my accessories and perfecting my hair—my phone rang. It was CeCe again, and against my better judgment, I answered it, knowing she had a way of weaving herself into my decisions.

"Hello?" I spoke tentatively into the receiver, my stomach twisting with a sense of dread.

"Olivia," she chirped, her voice slithering through the phone. Even the sound of it sent shivers down my spine, but I felt trapped, as though I lacked the freedom to ignore her commands. "So glad you learned to pick up my calls again," she said with a sardonic cheerfulness.

I felt a pit form in my stomach, a mixture of irritation and dread creeping in. "Well, I don't have long; I'm going on a date with Johnny," I responded, the admission barely escaping my lips before I realized how foolish it was.

"Oh, lovely!" she gushed on the other end. "Where to?"

In an impulsive moment, without thinking of the consequences, I divulged the name of the restaurant.

"Fantastic," she replied, her tone shifting to something more businesslike. "Well, I won't keep you long, but Tommy has a movie offer for you. You'll do it and thank me later." The finality in her voice left little room for negotiation.

A wave of frustration washed over me. I dreaded her power over my situation, the way she dangled blackmail like a noose around my neck. I wasn't ready to dive back into another film project; my focus was on something infinitely more important—my budding relationship with Johnny. I envisioned the future we could build together, the potential our connection held, and I couldn't bear the thought of jeopardizing that for another role that would pull my time and attention away from us. What would he think if I accepted yet another project that could distract me from the love we were nurturing? Would he understand, or would he see me as someone who prioritized fame over him?