Grant Brothers Series: The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  “I’m honored,” she said dryly, rolling her eyes at the unseeing ceiling.

  “What’d you have in mind, anyhow? You know, seeing as how I haven’t filled up my dance card quite yet.”

  “I was thinking that the two of us could go on a ride together,” Athena said, all at once feeling shy again and hating herself a little for it, “I... I think it might be good for us. For our relationship.”

  This comment was met with a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever. Athena would happily have sunk into the earth and disappeared. She had no idea what had made her reference their relationship. What relationship? Even now, they hadn’t discussed what they were doing together, which was probably exactly how he liked it. If she really wanted to spend some time with him, which she did, did she really think talking about their “relationship” was the way to go about it? She might as well hang up the phone right now and save herself some trouble.

  "I think that sounds good," Nate finally answered. She could hear the smile in his voice and wondered if he might be silently laughing at her. At the moment, she found she didn't care. She was too pleased by both his response and the fact that silence was over.

  “Oh! Okay, great! I’ll meet you at the ridge then, okay?”

  “Excellent,” he laughed, “I’ll be there. And Athena?”

  “Yes?” she asked breathlessly, her entire body tingling with both excitement over seeing him and the relief of having the conversation over with.

  “I think this is good,” he said in a soft voice, “an olive branch. Everybody loves an olive branch, you know?”

  Before she could think of a response, the other line went dead. She stared at her phone for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly was meant by an olive branch and who was supposed to be loving hers. In the end, she was too pleased to be spending time with Nate to worry about it for long. She threw the phone down and hurried to her room to ready herself for the ride.

  “Will you look at this?” Nate crowed with self-satisfaction, “I beat you to your own date! That’s got to earn me some kind of brownie points, right?”

  “Um, sure,” Athena answered hesitantly, trying to make what she was looking at make sense, “what exactly is this, Nate?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, frowning slightly as he glanced around, “What’s what?”

  Athena couldn’t think of a way to ask him why he’d brought along a crowd without… well… drawing the attention of said crowd. Throughout her time doing the stupid reality show with Nate, she had begun to grow marginally used to having a camera crew around. She would never enjoy it, never get to the point where she craved that kind of attention, but it no longer struck her as something that belonged in another universe.

  Seeing the crew standing around behind Nate now, however, made her feel like she was going to be sick right there at his feet. The worst part of it was, he didn't seem to have the first clue about what might be bothering her. One of his eyebrows was raised in confusion, and he went so far as to glance at the cameraman closest to him, silently asking if he knew what was wrong. The guy shrugged as if to say that they were all in agreement that Athena was acting like a crazy person.

  Because apparently it was crazy for her to think that a date between her and Nate would take place with just her and Nate. She’d thought they’d taken a step forward with their relationship—that they were both actually interested in trying out being together. She was still annoyed that he’d signed her up for that competition without discussing it with her, but she’d been willing to see it as a sign that he cared about her, that he wanted her to succeed.

  Now, the whole thing looked darker and more selfish to her. Maybe signing her up for the competition had never been about helping her at all—maybe he’d just been putting on a show, letting the world see what a great boyfriend he was, so he could nail that sponsorship deal before he left this town—and her—in the dust.

  “Hey, honey, everything okay? You’ve got a sort of a look on your face…” Nate said uncertainly.

  He shoved his hands deep down in the pockets of his jeans and actually took a step backward, moving closer to the camera crew than to her. She wanted to flinch at the added piece of evidence that this was all about the publicity for him… but instead, she forced herself to laugh, striving to be just as nonchalant as he was trying to look, then she took a large step forward, closing the gap and running her hands suggestively along his chest. She made sure not to break eye contact with him, daring him to stop her. He managed to keep his cool until she got to the buckle of his belt.

  “Whoa!” he chuckled nervously, “Whatcha doing there, sweetheart?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked coyly, “What does it look like I’m doing? We’re having some couples time, right?”

  "Sure, we're doing that, but I thought we were going for a ride. Don't you think this might be a little bit much? Gotta buy me dinner first and all that," he said with a laugh. It sounded genuine enough, but there was another one of those backward glances at the cameramen that told her exactly what he was worried about.

  “What’s the matter, Nate?” she asked, feeling her smile grow hard, “I thought you liked being the center of attention. I thought that was sort of your thing, with your big, shiny, empty life. I mean, it’s all for show, right? There’s not anything about you that’s real. Too bad your fans don’t know that about you. Too bad they don’t know how stupid they are, letting you play them the way you do. You must go home and laugh. You must laugh all the way to the bank.”

  “Hey now,” he said, his own smile faltering noticeably.

  “Oops,” she shot back, “was that too far? Not something to say in front of the cameras? Don’t worry, babe, I’m sure they can edit it out. That’s the way this whole thing works, isn’t it? The perfect ‘relationship;’ one you get carte blanche to edit. God forbid you have anything in your life that hasn’t been approved by sponsors.”

  “Okay, sugar, how’s about you and I have a private talk by my truck?”

  Before Athena had the chance to answer, Nate took her by the upper arm and started walking her towards the truck parked beside her car. He didn’t let go of her until they were well out of earshot of the camera crew. When he finally moved his hand, she looked reluctantly up into his face. She winced when she saw his expression. It didn’t take a genius to see that he was absolutely furious.

  “Hey, Athena, any chance you want to tell me what’s going on here?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking on the last word. How dare he sound so sincere when he was the one using her to boost his publicity? She looked defiantly into his face, swallowing down the part of her that wanted to make something work between them: something real. There was nothing real about him at all—certainly not when it came to his feelings for her.

  “Do I want to tell you what’s going on?” she asked incredulously, “How about the other way around?”

  “What are you talking about, Athena? You’re the one who said you wanted to meet.”

  “Right, I said I wanted us to meet. Like, you and me. When I mentioned our relationship, I was talking about whatever is going on with us behind the scenes. Not putting on a show for the cameras. But that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it?”

  “So that’s what that was about back there?” he asked quietly. It looked like his body was physically deflating, hearing what she had to say, and part of her wanted to soften. There was a bigger part of her, though, that just couldn’t let herself do it. Not now. Not when she was still hurting from being used as a prop instead of a partner.

  “I don’t know what you’re upset about,” she snapped, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m giving the audience what they want, right? I’m giving you guys a good show. That’s the idea, isn’t it?”

  "You know what?" he shot back, running his hand angrily through his hair, "I don't see that you've got the right to be this pissed. It was a misunderstanding, I'll own that, and I'm sorry. But you're acting like al
l of this is just happening to you."

  “Excuse me?” she hissed, struggling to speak around the feeling of her heart in her throat.

  “You heard me, Athena. You’re acting like a victim in all of this but let’s say it how it is. I’ve tried to hand you everything you wanted on a silver platter. The attention, the competition you turned down. These are the things that would get you the career you’ve always said you wanted. And now you want to throw them back in my face? Is it really because I crossed some imaginary line… or are you just looking for an excuse?”

  “An excuse for what?”

  “For the fact that you don’t actually want to leave,” he shot back bluntly. “For the way you’re scared to try and fail, so you hide in this little town where you never have to take any risks, never have to push yourself too hard. Where you can be a hero to a bunch of little girls who don’t know what a coward you are. All you want to do is hide behind the poor, messed up chick routine.”

  “Excuse me?” Athena asked, her face hot with emotion, “Poor messed up chick? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Hey,” Nate said with a hard laugh, “if you want to hide behind Mommy’s drinking problems for the rest of your life, that’s on you. Who knows, maybe someday you’ll have one of your own. Then you’ll really have an excuse for doing nothing with your life.”

  Athena stared at Nate, momentarily dumbstruck. If he had hauled off and hit her in the face, it would have hurt less. The moment she had seen the cameramen, she had known she was going to say something. Now, she more than regretted it. She felt numb, hollowed out. Because now that both of them had said their piece, she remembered the one thing you should never forget when it came to other people.

  There were some things that, once said, simply couldn’t be taken back again. You could hurt a person so deeply that they might get past it, but they would never forget it. The way they had just spoken to each other, she knew that’s what they had done.

  He seemed to realize he’d gone too far. Regret was written all over his face and he reached out to touch her—but she backed away. There was no point in listening to his apology. This was the kind of fight that would test strong, stable relationships. But what they had? There was no chance it could survive after this.

  “Why don’t you just go ahead and go?” she choked out, moving towards her car like her life depended on it, “Go away from here, away from this town. Nobody wants you here anyway. Do you know that? Nobody wants you here, least of all me.”

  15

  “Honey, are you okay over there? Because I don’t think I’ve seen you go through the oatmeal raisin cookies this way since you came home early from prom.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom. I’m super thrilled for the reminder of yet another rough patch in my personal history with the opposite sex.”

  Athena took another bite of her cookie and settled her chin into the palm of her hand. She made a point of looking out the window instead of at her mom. It had been almost a week since she had seen Nate. Almost a week since their brutal confrontation and she still felt absolutely sick to her stomach every time she so much as thought of how things had ended. The last thing she needed was for her mom to get a good idea of what was going on inside of her head. She wouldn’t stop pestering Athena with questions until she got the whole story—and Nate and the looming competition were the last things Athena wanted to talk about.

  “I’m just saying,” her mom answered, pulling the drapes shut with one decisive motion that made Athena’s skin crawl, “I know what those cookies mean.”

  “Do you?” Athena laughed tiredly. “That would be a first. You said it yourself—the last time I acted this way was back in high school, before you got around to noticing anyone’s pain but your own.”

  Athena winced and slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. It was like she had lost whatever part of her brain that was responsible for monitoring the things that came out of her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that. It wasn’t the time nor the place to open up old wounds with her mother. Their relationship had really blossomed over the last few years, and she felt they were truly close now… but none of that could change the fact that when Athena was growing up, her mother had tried to manage her severe depression by abusing alcohol and other drugs. When she was under the influence, she used to say terrible things to Athena, about how she’d never amount to anything, that she was destined to be nothing more than a failure.

  It wasn’t until a car accident during Athena’s senior year of high school that Nancy had taken a hard look at her life and decided to change. She’d sobered up, gone into treatment, and finally gotten on a good medication that helped her handle her emotional swings. It had been a grueling experience for both of them—for Nancy to claw her way back to some stability and for Athena to make ends meet and support them both financially—but it had all paid off in the end. The last thing Athena wanted was to throw that past in her mother’s face. The best she could hope for was that her mom would laugh it off as a joke in poor taste. When she heard the water from the kitchen sink shut off, she knew she wasn't going to be so lucky.

  “Athena,” her mother started, her voice quiet, almost contemplative.

  “Please, Mom, don’t,” Athena answered quickly, almost desperately, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

  “You may not know, but I do.”

  “Because I’m being a brat,” Athena groaned, shutting her eyes and wishing mightily for the ability to turn back time.

  “No, that’s not it. You’re not being a brat. You’re being honest. And this is something we should probably have talked about a long time ago,” Athena’s mom sighed as she slid into the chair across from Athena at the kitchen table. She smiled a small, sad smile, and grabbed for a cookie of her own.

  “Mom, really, we don’t need to talk about anything,” Athena groaned, “it was just a stupid, off-hand comment.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It’s a comment born in truth. I wasn’t there for you when you were growing up. I know that now. I wasn’t the kind of mother I should have been.”

  "Mom—" Athena said desperately. Her voice broke on just that one word, and she had to shut her mouth again. She wasn't going to sit at the table and cry. That was one thing she absolutely was not going to allow.

  "No," her mother pushed forward gently, "I'm going to say my piece. You're a strong woman, a capable woman. Some of that is just who you were born to be, but some of it is because you had to be. I own the way my mistakes shaped you. I failed you, did it many times over. But you have to be the one to make the choice now."

  “What choice?” Athena whispered, her voice terribly small and reminiscent of a child.

  “The choice about what to do with the hand you were dealt. I know how much you gave up to stay here and make sure I was taken care of, honey. I’ll never stop being grateful for it—but I’m also ashamed that taking care of me meant that you never got a chance to go after everything you wanted. You’ve got that shot now. You just have to choose if you’re going to keep letting your past dictate your future. You get to choose if you use the past as an excuse not to live your life.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” she choked miserably, fixating on the table top.

  “It means that you get to decide whether or not you take on the risks that could make you a star. I heard about the competition you turned down, baby girl. And judging by the fact that you’re sitting at my table instead of at the stables, getting in some practice, I’m beginning to think you might be planning on skipping out of the big competition with Nate Grant.”

  “Mom—"

  “No,” her mother insisted, “no. You have earned this competition. You’ve earned this platform.”

  “Right, but if I do the competition, I’ll just be playing into Nate’s PR stunt. I want to be more than that.”

  “Oh, baby girl,” her mother answered, leaning forward with tears in her eyes and taking one of Athena’s hands in both of hers, “if th
at’s where your head is, you’re looking at this all wrong.”

  “What do you mean?” Athena asked uncertainly.

  “I mean, you look at Nate and see a man who’s focused on publicity—but I look at him and see a man who’s focused on you. Yes, he gets things wrong sometimes and yes, his perspective is skewed. But that’s where you can be good for him, sweetheart. You can ground him while he lifts you up. He can help you navigate the press and deal with being a celebrity, and you can remind him how to connect with real people like your rodeo girls. That’s what love’s all about—shoring each other up, and leaning on each other.”

  “But how do I know if he really loves me? I thought… maybe… but then—”

  “Darling, you can never be completely sure. There’s always going to be a risk in putting your heart out there. But what you need to ask yourself is… is he worth the risk?”

  Nate paced the floor behind the rodeo arena doggedly, as if his walking might actually be able to accomplish something. He'd been pacing the tight space for at least thirty minutes, but it felt like a whole lot more. Every time he heard a noise that had even the smallest possibility of being Athena, he stopped and turned to face it. His heart started thumping wildly in his chest, only to leave him disappointed and feeling slightly sick. By the time he turned to see Ian standing there and looking at him, he felt about ready to burst out of his skin.

  “Jesus, brother, what do you think you’re doing startling me like that?” Nate said hotly, cracking his knuckles and starting his pacing again before he could get a good look at the bewildered expression on Ian’s face.

  “All right, man, I give,” Ian answered, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, “what’s going on here?”

  “Nothing,” Nate snapped, “it’s just nerves, is all.”