Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

it’s not too much. When you get right down to it, making travel arrangements is just another form of shopping.”

“Leave it to you to bring shopping into it. Are you still queen of the vintage stores?”

“Never mind that—but yes, and proud of it.” Olivia paused, then added, “Oh-oh, I remember what I wanted to tell you. I have a date tomorrow night, so be sure to call me between five and six. I’ll be leaving at seven. If I don’t answer, try again—I might be in the shower. Or if you get things settled before then, call me at work. The sooner the better.”

“Well, I hope you can organize yourself in time—along with going out for the evening. What if I get us a flight for day after tomorrow?”

“I’ll make it an early night—just tell him I have to be at work early. I’ll start sorting out some things tonight and if I need to, get up early tomorrow to start packing. It will be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t forget the hat and sunscreen. You reddish-haired types burn easily. I don’t want you putting a damper on things by getting a sunburn.”

They both laughed and rang off. Olivia felt a surge of excitement, brought on by the fact that the trip was now a reality. She spent the remainder of the evening pulling out clothes and touring northern Spain courtesy of Google. When she discovered that within the week the Festival of San Fermin and the running of the bulls would begin, she became even more enthusiastic. It had been during the festival that her grandparents had met. She wondered if there could be a bit of romance waiting for her as well. That would add another element to the trip, and as she lay in bed, waiting for sleep, she hoped against hope that Valerie would manage to make reservations that would place them at the center of the festivities.

* * *

The next day Olivia felt at loose ends and found it hard to concentrate on the decorating assignment she had been given the week before. Mr. Saunders had made a point of needing to have it finished before she left on vacation. But the trip wasn’t her only distraction. She was contemplating her second evening with Clive Warren, and found herself becoming more nervous by the hour. Only a short time was needed to complete the project, so she decided to put it away and head home to prepare for her date. She treated herself to a taxi and was soon inside her flat trying to decide what to do first.

Fresh from the shower she began to pull garments out of the closet, tossing them on the bed one at a time, until eventually something struck her fancy. She chose a very dark pair of jeans and a white rayon top, its wide neckline meant to drop off one shoulder. Her earrings were large oval hoops, silver, with several tiny moonstones hanging from each. She chose a velvet wrap in a silvery shade of dove gray and took one last look in the mirror. Something wasn’t right, and she paused. She reached for a silver filigree clip and swept up the mass of hair, twisting it casually and securing it high on her head. Several tendrils had escaped, but only served to bring attention to her green eyes and fair complexion.

There were twenty minutes or so before her date would arrive. She set about tidying her small sitting room, fluffing pillows, folding the plush coverlet and placing it on the back of the sofa. Her phone rang as she picked it up to put it in her purse. She answered and heard a very excited Valerie on the other end.

“It’s done. We’re set! We leave day after tomorrow from Heathrow at ten—not too early for you, is it?” Valerie laughed and waited for Olivia’s response.

“No, it’s fine—but what airline? And where are we landing? And how do we get to our hotel— are we renting a car?” the questions were flying out of her mouth faster than Valerie could answer them.

“Slow down! Now just listen… Iberia airlines to Madrid; layover is less than an hour; next stop, San Sebastián. Total trip is less than five hours. We’ll find transportation at the airport to take us to our hotel in Pamplona. It’s about a half hour from the airport, so the agent said. Well, where we’re staying is actually a guesthouse—not sure I can remember the whole name, or pronounce it. Something-something-Alojamientos. The agent said it had good reviews and there may be a kitchenette. That will save some money. The room only has to be clean and have a private bathroom. We won’t be there much.”

“True. It’s probably ‘guesthouse’ Alojamientos. Wow, you really did a good job. Now if the festival was happening, it would all be too perfect.”

“Surprise! It starts the day after we arrive. That’s why the hotels were a little more than I expected. They bump up the price during the festival.”

“Now I’m as excited as you are. Oh lord, what will I take—I have to think fast—no time for shopping.”

“Pack for heat. Remember the hat and sunscreen. Now I have to run. Have fun tonight.”

“Wait! How are we getting to the airport?”

“I’m booking a taxi to pick us up—first me, then you—they have a rate to the airport.”

“Valerie, I didn’t realize you could be so organized… just kidding. Bye.”

Olivia set her phone on ‘silent’ and put it in her purse. The chimes from a nearby church began to strike seven. Clive, as Olivia knew him, was punctual, ringing the buzzer and knocking before the seventh strike. When Olivia answered the door he didn’t have to fake his admiring gaze. Once in the hallway she noticed that the elevator was in use, and she didn’t want to wait. Neither spoke while they took the two flights of stairs to the street, but as they began to walk in the direction of the jazz club, conversation became