Page 47 of 7 Days and 7 Nights

The deliveryman looked like a bit player fromThe Sopranos. His wiry arms cradled a bulging floral arrangement, and a cloud of black balloons floated above his head.

“Got a delivery for one Dr. Olive Moore.”

“It’s Olivia.”

“Whatever. Can I bring this stuff in?”

“I guess so.” She stepped back to let him in and had an alarming thought. “You haven’t been paid to take off your clothes or anything, have you?”

He looked at her as if she were deranged. “Look, lady, I just want to put this stuff down. You want me to take my clothes off, you’ll have to call my supervisor.”

Olivia lifted the phone to her ear. “Charles, what’s going on here?”

“It’s your thirtieth birthday, Olivia. The station wants to help you celebrate it.”

The deliveryman continued to eye her as if she were exactly the sort of woman who might force him to perform an unauthorized striptease and then call his office to complain. “I’ve got a few more things down near the elevator. Can you hold the door?”

At her nod, he slid carefully around her and walked down the hall, leaving her less than five minutes to air. She contemplated the hallway longingly.

“Charles. This is ridiculous. I don’t want...”

The delivery guy came back with more flowers, a cane with a rearview mirror and horn attached, and two cardboard boxes with Matt’s name on them. He eyed her as she stood in the doorway. “I got some other stuff to do in here. You wanna close the door?”

Olivia let the door slam behind her. “Charles. I need to go on the air. You have to put a stop to this right now.”

“Sorry, Olivia, can’t do it. Everything’s already in motion. Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.”

“Charles, I am not willing to—”

“There’s lots of interest in the story of you turning thirty, so we’re planning to pull a bunch of clips from today’s live stream to post as Instagram stories and on Twitter, of course”

“That’s great Charles, but I—”

“Gotta go, Olivia. Have a great day.”

She spent her last minutes before air watching the deliveryman decorate the apartment. He crisscrossed the room hanging black crepe paper and anchoring bunches of black balloons to chair backs while she watched with growing dismay.

When he started taping an “Over the Hill” banner to the wall, she wanted to go back to her room and crawl under the covers. Instead, she fielded her first call.

“This isLiv Live. In case there’s anyone who hasn’t figured it out, today is my thirtieth birthday. Hi, Wanda. You’re on the air."

“Happy birthday, Dr. O. Hope it’s a great one.”

Wanda sounded about twelve, which was probably why she still thought birthdays were something to cheer about. Olivia tried not to hold it against her but caught herself listening with only half an ear as she watched the deliveryman/decorator pack up and depart.

So far, the one bright spot was Matt Ransom’s absence. And though her gaze strayed to his closed bedroom door more times than she cared to count, she told herself she was relieved when he didn’t put in an appearance.

Drawing the conversation with Wanda to a close, Olivia moved on. “JoBeth. Has your Dawg learned to heel yet?”

“No, Dr. O. In fact, the last time I saw him, another woman had her paws all over him.”

“How'd that go?”

“I told her she was welcome to the hound, and left. But I felt like rubbing both their noses in some serious—”

“Yeah,” Olivia interrupted. “I know just what you mean.”

“Really, Dr. O?”