Let it Show (Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedies Book 2)

by Tawna Fenske

Gabe shoots me a sympathetic look. “That’s fine, but documenting it is part of the social experiment. Mari’s idea for—”

  “What’s Mari’s idea?”

  Her voice behind me makes me turn. I watch in slow motion as she registers the cameras, her siblings, the guilty looks on their faces. Then her gaze drops and she sucks in a breath. “Oh, Jesus.”

  My ex-wife is on her knees still, arms wrapped around Soph. Elle, I need to think of her as Elle and not my goddamn ex.

  Her shoulders quiver as she leans back to take in our sweet girl’s face. “You’re growing so fast,” Elle sniffles. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Mommy?” Soph’s brow furrows. “You’re really here.”

  “I’m here, baby. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” Elle dabs her eyes with a white hankie, her makeup remarkably un-smudged. “You’re so beautiful.” She dabs her eyes again, oblivious to the chaos around her.

  Or maybe not so oblivious because she looks up and meets my eye. A slow, calculating smile spreads over her face. “Griffin. You’ve kept her safe for me.”

  My hands clench at my sides. “I kept her safe for her,” I growl. “Because I’m a parent. That’s what parents do.”

  Anger snaps inside me, fierce and hot. I don’t know where to direct my fury. At Elle for showing up here like this? At the Judsons for exploiting it?

  At myself for signing on to do this goddamn show in the first place.

  I turn to Mari and see she’s white as a ghost. Her eyes shift from Lana’s to Lauren’s. Something passes between them. A silent message I can’t understand, but all three women hear it.

  Lauren moves first, stepping beside Lana and facing the camera. “Turn it off, Gabe.”

  He sighs. “We can agree not to use it, but it’s important to document—”

  “Fuck!” Lana blurts the word, then winces in Soph’s direction. “Poo on a stick! Son of a monkey! Shitake mushrooms!”

  It dawns on me she’s trying to make the footage unusable, but something’s off here. Not my ex-wife at my feet, but the look of terror on Mari’s face. She’s staring down at Elle like my ex-wife is a swamp creature who’s crawled up from the sewer. Like she’s the last person in the world she hoped to see on the front porch.

  Elle’s knack for knowing eyes are on her kicks in because she swings her gaze to Mari. Another slow smile spreads over her face, this one darker than the last. “Hello, Dr. Judson,” she says. “I’d like to talk about those forms.”

  “Forms?” I look at Mari, struggling to understand. “What forms?”

  Mari stares back, and something registers deep in my chest. The look on her face that I swear I’ve seen before. Remorse. For what?

  I sound like a broken record, but I ask again. “What’s happening here?”

  Mari’s throat moves as she swallows. Her mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

  Not from her.

  But my ex-wife jumps to fill the silence. “She can’t say anything, sweetheart.” Elle gets to her feet, catching Soph’s hand in hers. I assume the endearment is meant for our daughter, but she’s looking right at me.

  “She’s my therapist, Griffin.” Elle glances at the camera, and I’m not sure if they’re still filming. I’m not sure of anything anymore.

  Elle turns back to me, squaring her shoulders. “Congratulations, dear. You’re dating my shrink.”

  There’s a roaring in my ears that might be an oncoming train. I don’t realize I’m squeezing Soph’s shoulder until I hear her squeak. “Daddy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Mari says the words the same time I do. I drop my hand from Soph’s shoulder and look into Mari’s eyes. “Is this true?”

  She closes her mouth and darts a glance at Elle.

  My ex-wife laughs and reaches into her shoulder bag. “The look on your face.” She fishes out a sheaf of papers and holds them out. “Here.” She thrusts them at Mari, who stands frozen like a statue.

  She doesn’t reach for the papers. Just looks me in the eye as the world tilts under my feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” Mari whispers, then turns to face the camera.

  Chapter 13

  CONFESSIONAL 732.5

  Judson, Marilyn, PsyD (Psychologist: Juniper Ridge)

  Sometimes you make the wrong decision for the right reasons. Or the right decision for the wrong reasons. Or a decision that’s horrible, utterly impossible. The kind that rips your guts out, and all you can do is make the best, most-informed choice possible for you to—what?

  [rolls eyes]

  Yes, Gabe. That’s exactly what we’re talking about. Boxers versus briefs.

  God, you’re a child.

  I stare down Gabe the way I did when he was ten and would tease the toddler versions of Coop and Lana until they howled. “Stop.”

  He nods once and flips something on the camera without a word.

  There are more important things than the show or the social experiment or the documentation of research-worthy moments.

  One of them is standing next to me, vibrating with rage. I need to face that. I need to face the consequences of my choices.

  But first things first.

  I reach out and take the consent forms from Elle. Her verbal declaration in front of Griffin was adequate from a legal standpoint, but I’m not taking chances. I scan the words, noting her signature at the bottom and checkmarks in all the right spots.

  I authorize Marilyn Judson, PsyD, to disclose my protected health information....

  Lowering the paperwork, I turn to Griff. “Would it be okay if Soph and her mother go grab a cupcake at the café? Just ten minutes. There are some personal issues I’d like to discuss.”

  He hesitates. I can see him wrestling with a dozen internal conflicts. To forbid his daughter to leave his sight with his errant ex-wife? To tell every member of the Judson family to go to hell? To walk off the show and never come back?

  I wouldn’t blame him for any of it.

  I dart a look at Lauren. If ever there were a moment to wish my sister could read minds, this would be it.

  Lauren gives a tight nod. “Lana will go with them to get the cupcake. For liability purposes. Show policy.”

  There’s no such policy, and Griff knows it. At least, I think he does. I hope he hears what my family is offering. They’re backing off. They’re protecting his child. They’re doing all the things so rare in Hollywood, and at the core of why my family left LA en masse.

  Soph’s voice splits the tension. “Are you mad, Daddy?”

  A muscle twitches in Griffin’s jaw. “I’m…not happy.”

  The girl frowns. “Mari said counselors only tell parents to leave their kids if something’s dangerous.” She looks at her mother. “Were we in danger?”

  Elle tosses her hair and laughs. “You were never in danger, sweetheart.”

  Griffin’s eyes darken. I know I should clarify that’s not what I said, but defensiveness won’t help right now.

  Sensing the tension, Elle looks from me to Griff and gives a dramatic wince. “Well, this is awkward.”

  I need to get her out of here. If there’s any hope of saving things with Griffin, I need this to be a frank and honest conversation.

  Lana flashes a too-bright smile. “Patti makes excellent macarons if anyone’s not up for cupcakes. I can text and make sure they stay open late just for us.” She’s using her cheerful PR voice, but there’s an edge to it I’ve never heard before.

  Soph looks at Griffin. “Please, Daddy?”

  A muscle twitches in his jaw, and he gives a curt nod. “Ten minutes. One cupcake.”

  For once, Soph doesn’t negotiate. Just grabs her mother by the hand. “The coffee shop is this way.”

  Elle flicks a glance at the camera. I see her searching for a reason to stall, some way to get the limelight shining her way.

  “Come on, Ms. Julia.” Lana touches her arm. “We can go over some strategies for your on-camera confessionals we’ll be filming later.”r />
  That gets Elle’s attention. She clutches Soph’s hand and flashes a smile much whiter and straighter than I remember it. “Perfect. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

  The three of them glide off down the path. I watch them go, registering the stiffness in Soph’s shoulders, the way Elle moves like she’s walking the red carpet. Just before they turn the corner, Lana turns to face me. There’s an apology in her eyes, a wistfulness I feel deep in my chest.

  Good luck, she mouths, then turns away.

  I’m going to need it.

  With a deep breath, I turn and face the rest of my family. Gabe’s putting away camera equipment while Griff seethes beside me. It’s Lauren whose eyes find mine first.

  She presses her lips together in a grim line. “We didn’t know.”

  I nod once. I’m not even sure what she means. That I knew Griff’s ex-wife? That I’d fallen in love with him?

  They didn’t know the former because I couldn’t tell them, but the latter? That’s on me. And right now, I’m wishing I’d said something. If they’d known, if I’d let my family in, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.

  Lauren clears her throat. “Gabe. That’s our cue to go.”

  Our brother doesn’t argue. Just gives me another look of sympathy as he packs up the gear. “For the record, I didn’t want to do it for the show,” he says. “Thought you might want things recorded for your study. For the journal article.”

  “Thank you.” I swallow back the lump as I watch them go. My siblings, the people who have my back more than I realized.

  I take a deep breath and turn to face Griff. His expression is stony, and I fight the urge to reach for him. “I understand you’re angry. I understand—”

  “No, Mari. You don’t understand.”

  I flinch at the sharpness in his voice. “You’re right. Why don’t you tell me what you’re feeling now?”

  He laughs, but it’s the most humorless laugh I’ve ever heard. More a snarl, really. “Let me see if I’ve got this. You spent months building my wife’s confidence and telling her to spread her wings and chase her dreams or whatever the hell psychobabble you filled her head with.” His words are clipped, like he’s forcing them out. “Until she finally got the ‘courage’—” he makes air quotes with his fingers, eyes flashing with rage, “to abandon her husband and child and—”

  “I never knew she had a child.” I recognize right away it’s not much of a defense. “And I didn’t know you, Griffin. All I had to go on was what she told me.”

  He shakes his head, looking down at me with contempt. “Convenient. You get one side of the story and you use it to turn a whole family upside down. Do you have any idea what Gabby used to come home and say about you?”

  I shake my head and keep my mouth clamped shut. There’s nothing I can say right now that won’t set him off. Now is the time for listening.

  Griffin folds his arms over his chest and pitches his voice to a sarcastic sing-song lilt. “‘Oh, Griff—my therapist says I have so much more potential. My shrink says I’m wasting my talents here.’”

  I fight back the urge to defend myself, knowing it won’t help. Even if I never used those exact words, he’s not wrong about the sentiment.

  “How?” He demands. “How could you look me in the eye—have dinner with my daughter—hell, make love with me—”

  “You think I didn’t want to tell you?” My voice snaps out crisper than I mean it to, but there’s no going back now. “As soon as I realized, I tried to reach her. I went through agents and publicists and producers. I couldn’t say a word to you without her permission. Do you understand that?”

  He shakes his head, and I’m not sure he’s heard a word I’ve just said. “Then you should have stayed away. From me, from Soph—”

  “I tried.” I stamp my foot like some ridiculous starlet from fifties cinema. “Goddam it, Griff—I did everything I could to avoid getting involved with you.”

  “Except, oh, I don’t know—not sleeping with me?”

  I close my eyes. “This was exactly what I worried would happen.”

  “Because you had all the information.” The bark of his shout makes me look up again. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess you knew a helluva lot about me, even if you didn’t know my name.” He pauses, gaze locked on mine. “Did she talk about what a lousy listener I was?”

  “Griff—”

  “Or how I stifled her dreams?”

  “Griffin—”

  “How about our sex life? Did you hear how I was in bed? Have you been laughing to yourself all along and thinking—”

  “Enough!” I never raise my voice with patients, and certainly not with loved ones. But I’ve hit a breaking point. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t reach Elle, I couldn’t say a word to you, and I couldn’t seem to stay away. That’s my weakness—I own that—but I didn’t have a lot of options.”

  “I see.” There’s a calmness in his voice now that’s worse than when he was yelling. “So you never gave a thought to how well this would play on the show.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He looks at me for a long time. “And it never crossed your mind how great this would be for your research. What a terrific opportunity it was to root around in my brain for the sake of the study.”

  I open my mouth to argue, then close it.

  “What a tremendous opportunity.” Susan’s words come back to me in a flash. “I admire you, Mari. What an incredible opportunity to study human behavior. The Journal of Experimental Psychology is going to eat this up.”

  Griffin reads everything in my hesitation. “Thought of something, did you?”

  “I was intrigued, sure,” I admit. “From a clinical standpoint. But that was before.”

  “Before I made an ass of myself going down on you on your kitchen table?”

  My cheeks flame hot with shame, but I manage to keep my shoulders from drooping. “How exactly did that make an ass out of you?” I shake my head, knowing that’s not the point. He’s hurt and humiliated, and that never brings out anyone’s best side. “Griff, I would have told you if I could. I swear to God, the instant I got permission—”

  “That was her on the phone, wasn’t it?”

  I blink. “What?”

  “The night we had sex. She called you, didn’t she?”

  I do a quick scan of the ethics guide in my brain, then nod. “Yes. It was.”

  “And did you ask her right then and there to call me? To get everything out in the open?”

  Again, I hesitate. I remember Elle offering to talk to him. To explain it all right then. “I wanted you to hear it from me.”

  “So you could spin the story however you wanted.”

  “That’s not the reason.” Or hell, maybe it was. I owe him honesty at this point. “Yes, I had more confidence in my own ability to break the news to you than I did in how Gabrielle might do it. Elle. You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, I do.” He drags a hand through his hair. “You changed the course of my life, Mari.”

  Those words in a sweeter tone would mean the world to me. But his voice is cold and bitter and echoes darkly through my skull. “I never told your wife to divorce you.”

  “Did you tell her not to?”

  “That’s not what a therapist—”

  “Answer the question, Mari.”

  I hesitate. There’s no point in sugarcoating things now. “No. I didn’t.”

  “And did you think she should leave the marriage?”

  Again, I pause. I recognize the need to choose my words with caution. “My opinion wasn’t relevant to—”

  “Goddamn it.” He smacks his palm against the doorframe. “Just answer me, okay?”

  I take a deep breath. “She told me her husband’s name was Gary. And based on what she told me about him—about you—yes, I did think she’d outgrown the marriage.”

  He flinches at my words. “I see.”

  “Griffin, you have to believe—”r />
  “I don’t have to believe a goddamn thing you say.” He folds his arms over his chest and stares at me. “If she’d never met you, I’d still be married.”

  It’s another sucker punch, stealing the breath from my lungs. All I can do is nod. “It’s possible. Or it’s possible you wouldn’t. Often, people come to therapy seeking validation for what they already intend to do.”

  He shakes his head slowly. “It wasn’t enough for you to derail my life once,” he says slowly. “You had to go and do it again.”

  I stare at him, blinking back tears. Emotion isn’t what we need right now. “Would you want to still be married to her?”

  Holding my breath, I wait for the answer. I’m afraid of what he’ll say, but I need to know.

  “What I want,” he says slowly, “is to have my life—my daughter’s life—unfold without someone else pulling puppet strings.” He shakes his head, then looks out at the ridgeline in the distance. It hurts to know he can’t stand to look at me right now.

  “I agreed to be part of this show to give Soph and me a fresh start.” He says the words slowly, voice cracking on the last syllable. “A new life after the hell we’ve been through. And yeah, I agreed to have my life televised. But what I didn’t consent to is having some—some—some therapist—” He spits the word like a curse, blue eyes flashing. “Some goddamn head shrinker deciding the course of our lives.”

  There’s nothing I can say right now to fix this. He’s angry, and he deserves to be angry. But there’s something I need him to know.

  “I love you, Griffin.” I start to touch his arm but stop myself. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I wish I could have told you my connection to Elle. I wish—”

  “You know what I wish?” He takes a step back, putting more distance between us than his words have done. “I wish I’d never met you. I wish Soph never met you. That Gabby hadn’t, either.”

  I close my eyes, taking the blows as they come. The words he’s not saying, I hear them anyway.

  I wish I were still married.

  I don’t love you.

  When I open my eyes, he’s taken another step back so he stands inside the doorway. He’s inches away, but the space between us feels like miles.