Know Your Heart: A New Zealand Enemies to Lovers Romance (Far North Series Book 2)

by Tracey Alvarez

  “Yeah. I’ve got a couple of interviews next week.”

  The interviews were for positions in environmental law firms. His father nearly stroked out when Glen walked into the office and quit on his first day back in Auckland two weeks ago. And Jamie? Glen shook his head, a smile curving his lips. Jamie was focused on repairing the damage with his wife and kids, and didn’t notice much of anything.

  “Good for you. When one of the publishers bite on the three-book deal your agent’s pushing for, you’ll have more free time to write the next one.”

  Glen snorted. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

  “That asshole’s long gone.” Jamie stretched out his legs, pale below his brand-spanking-new running shorts. “FYI, Erin wants to know when she can get signed copies. I told her we get first dibs and will make a fortune from your first editions when you die.”

  “Ahhh. Good to see the asshole’s still in there somewhere.”

  Jamie bumped Glen’s shoulder. “The asshole didn’t convince his wife and kids to give him a second chance and move home, I did.”

  “Still sleeping in the spare room?”

  Jamie deflated a little bit. “Hopefully not for too much longer.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t screw things up this time.”

  “I never want to lose Erin again.” Jamie stared out over the harbor to the distant Sky Tower rising above the city skyline. “She’s the love of my life.” He stiffened.

  Yep, the words had plopped through the love haze and made a splash in the fraternal guilt pool.

  “So, you haven’t heard anything from, ah, up North?” Jamie asked.

  Glen forced his hands to remain loose around the plastic water bottle. Squeezing his tension out through his hands would be a dead giveaway if the bottle exploded. “From Savannah? No. I assume she’s still prepping for her audition, if she hasn’t left the country already.”

  “You heard that casino show got canned?”

  He had. And it set Glen thinking for a moment or two, wondering if Savannah knew about the plug being pulled on High Rollers while he was still in Bounty Bay. “Yeah. But Savannah will get the sitcom part.”

  “Little bit of you hoping she doesn’t get it? Maybe comes back to live in Auckland?”

  “I don’t want to see her fail. There’s nothing for her here in Auckland.”

  Jamie took a long draw from his water bottle and kept his gaze fixed on the Devonport ferry as it chugged through the glassy harbor. He swiped his wrist across his mouth. “I think I screwed things up with you and Sav.”

  Glen’s head swung toward his brother so fast he nearly caused whiplash.

  Jamie’s knee juddered up and down, sending tiny vibrations through the wooden bench. “That night in her house, I suggested she should dump you before you ruined your life and followed her to the U.S. I told her you were wrecked when she moved to Wellington all those years ago, and that she’d break your heart if she left you again.” He snuck Glen the hound-dog eyes. “I should’ve kept my fat mouth shut, because look at you. You’ve been a bloody zombie.”

  Jamie had put the idea in Sav’s head that breaking up with him would be the kindest thing to do?

  The brief flare of hope died a quick and silent death. “Sav’s audition wasn’t the reason I came home alone. If L.A. was the only problem facing us, we could’ve sorted something out. She didn’t feel the same as I did, so there was no point in beating a dead horse.”

  “She told you, flat out, that she didn’t love you?”

  Glen frowned. “Pretty much. She said it was just sex.”

  “No suspicions she might have been lying?”

  “She’s not that good an actress.” The water bottle crackled threateningly in Glen’s grasp.

  Jamie stood and raised his foot to the bench seat, leaning forward to stretch his hamstrings. “You don’t get nominated for a Golden Globe for being average.”

  When Glen’s mouth refused to work, Jamie continued. “The Sav I saw in Bounty Bay was just as into you as you were into her.” He sighed. “One thing I’ve learned with the whole Erin-gate mess is that we guys think women expect a level of psychic ability when it comes to understanding what they really want. But you know what? They often want what we do—attention, respect, hot sex, love…and maybe a little help to know what’s important.”

  “Thanks, oh great love guru. But career is what’s important to Sav, and she has to take her shot at Hollywood.”

  “Maybe other things are important to her, too.” Jamie switched to stretching his other leg. “She e-mailed me yesterday.”

  “She what?” Glen’s resting pulse rate shot up to a sprint. “When? What about?”

  Jamie held up a palm. “About Tom’s concert. She wanted to confirm the date and time, and to get me to put aside a ticket for her.”

  Glen tensed. “She’s planning to go?”

  “She says so. She’s flying out to L.A. a few days afterward.”

  “She wouldn’t want to let down Tom.”

  “Really?” Jamie said. “Does that sound like a woman only interested in sexing your brains out?”

  Glen glared at his brother’s smug expression.

  “Oh, and wait a minute,” Jamie continued, pressing a finger to his mouth in a sarcastic thinking pose. “She also enclosed the names of two respected drama teachers happy to help Tom with his performance anxiety. Plus a little mention that she hoped your book submission had gone well—fishing, of course, to see whether you were okay. No, Sav absolutely doesn’t give a shit about you.”

  “What did you tell her?” Glen’s gut dropped to his running shoes.

  He’d missed Savannah so bad it had taken Erin’s threat of dropping his three nephews on his doorstep to force him out on a run with Jamie today, so he hoped his brother hadn’t given Sav an accurate account.

  “I told her I’d leave a back row ticket for her at the school office, and if she wanted to know how you were doing, to show up, as you’d be seated beside her.”

  “She won’t come,” Glen said numbly. “She won’t go anywhere near that auditorium now.”

  Jamie slapped him on the back. “Only one way to find out, little brother. And that’s to show up in three days, looking smoking hot and irresistible.”

  ***

  Glen caught the scent of berries in the darkened auditorium moments before Savannah eased into the seat beside him. He’d sat in the back row twenty minutes before Tom’s concert kicked off, for fear he’d miss Sav if she did decide to show.

  Her skirt whispered against the leg of his suit pants.

  “I’m not too late?” she murmured.

  “No.” Getting that one syllable word out of his throat hurt. His chest ached with her nearness, the brush of her hair across his shoulder.

  She leaned in to him a second time to say, “Traffic was a nightmare.”

  Tom’s school principal, enamored with the sound of her own voice, droned on about supporting the arts.

  He swallowed hard. “Tom will be glad you’re here.”

  The shift of her arm against his, a slight pulling away.

  Really, Glen? His fingers resting on his leg dug into his thigh. That’s the best you’ve got?

  He turned, so the tip of his nose grazed her hair. “And I’m glad you’re here too,” he whispered.

  Even with the house lights down, emotion shimmered in Savannah’s eyes.

  A sudden screech of sound-system feedback made her jump and pull away. On stage, the principal finished introducing the band. Behind the center-stage mic, Tom stood with his guitar, his eyes wide and unfocused. A lamb led to the slaughter.

  The smattering of applause drifted away, but still Tom didn’t move to count off the beat.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Sav surged to her feet. “You got this,” she shouted. “Like a boss, Tom.”

  A small section of the audience, composed mainly of Tom’s classmates, whooped and hollered. The stunned deer expression vanishe
d, replaced by Tom’s huge grin. Jamie hadn’t told his son Savannah might come to the prize-giving, in case at the last moment she couldn’t, but Tom no doubt recognized Sav’s voice.

  The boy tapped his sneakered foot, and he and his band launched into a kick-ass rendition of Pink Floyd’s Another Brick in the Wall.

  Sav sank into her seat, and without glancing at his face, laced her fingers through his. The smooth skin of her palm sent ripples through him, so sharp they went beyond pleasure and into pain. He couldn’t allow her presence here to be anything more than it was—an opportunity for them to say goodbye without emotion clouding it.

  He raised his hand with hers still on top and kissed her knuckles.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Tom had the audience eating out of his palm within the first minute and on their feet by the end of the song. Glen would never forget the look of pure joy on his nephew’s face, and the glimpse of Jamie and Erin, three rows in front of him, clapping so hard they’d have stinging palms by the end of the evening.

  Sav tugged on his hand. “I’ve got to go, Glen. Walk me out?”

  Glen followed her into the aisle and out the heavy auditorium doors into the foyer. Cooler air flowed from the open doors, and the distant howl of an emergency vehicle accompanied them as they walked outside, still holding hands.

  “Will you tell Tom how proud I was of him?” She paused by the row of low shrubs that led from the parking lot to the auditorium.

  Glen made a huge effort to keep any hint of accusation out of his voice. “You can’t stay to tell him yourself?”

  She shook her head, her long hair spilling over her shoulder and brushing the edge of a wry smile. “This is Tom’s night. When the lights come up, I don’t want having Savannah Payne in the audience to detract from that.” Then she gave a rueful chuckle, tugging the edges of her jacket together. “Though after his performance, no one would be looking at me.”

  I can’t see anything other than you. Glen kept his mouth shut. Not gonna make this any harder on himself than he had to. Yet, he still couldn’t prevent his gaze from skimming the length of her. She’d lost more weight in the two weeks since he’d left Bounty Bay, and the green jacket she wore hung boxily off her frame. It was one of the jackets she’d tried on at Vee’s Closet; he’d noticed it as the color brought the green out in her eyes. Then, it had hugged her curves. Now…

  Glen shoved his hands into his pants pockets because he really, really wanted to haul her into his arms and never let go. Paper crackled in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, the envelope inside feeling like it dragged him down.

  “This is where we say goodbye,” he said.

  “Yes. And I wanted to apologize for being a jerk.”

  “Aren’t guys normally jerks?”

  “I was the jerk this time. I didn’t mean what I said”—her lower lip trembled then thinned as she briefly pressed both lips together—“but it would’ve been easier for us both if I did.”

  “Because of L.A.?”

  She nodded.

  “L.A. isn’t the thing keeping us apart.”

  The frown lines creasing her forehead deepened. “Of course it is.” She touched his chest then froze, dropping her hand. “I want to be with you—I do. It’s just…”

  “You don’t believe what we feel for each other could be love?”

  “No, yes…I don’t know—maybe.” She threw up her hands then clamped them over her face for a moment.

  “Love requires sacrifice, and the price is too high. My parents, for example.” Her mouth twisted. “Mum was in medical school when she met my dad and fell in love. She got pregnant and quit—for him, for me—so I wouldn’t be a kid raised by parents who were never home. Dad stayed with her for years after he realized he didn’t love her anymore, suffering under the guilt until he just couldn’t take it. Then there was Liam, always telling me how he had given up his career to be my manager, how he catered to my demands on his time and how he had to live in my shadow. No matter how happy and sweet I tried to be with my dad, or how loving and undemanding I tried to be with my husband, their sacrifices came with too high a price.”

  “One left you, the other turned into a monster,” Glen said. “No wonder love is a four letter word to you.”

  With suspiciously shiny eyes, Savannah tossed her hair over her shoulder and stood straighter.

  God, she was wrecking him.

  “I should go,” she said. “We’re only making this worse.”

  Glen removed the envelope from inside his pocket. “Take this, open it when you get home.”

  She took the envelope from his hand and weighed it thoughtfully. “That’s one hell of a love letter.” Her lip quivered with the effort to force a smile on her mouth.

  “There’s no letter. I won’t hide behind words on a page.” Glen moved in close, gently grasping her upper arms and drawing her against him.

  She sighed, her body softening, melting into his. She felt so right there, a perfect fit. The only woman he’d ever love. And she was right about one thing—love did require a sacrifice. But he was willing to pay that price for her happiness.

  “Years ago I’d watch you with Nate, with your friends, even with Liam. You craved their eyes on you, needing their approval. Guess it was an extension of your need for your dad’s love and approval. But you don’t have to do a damn thing to earn mine, because I see you, Savannah. I see you, I know you, and I love you.”

  “But you’re telling me to go?” Her voice cracked.

  “I’m telling you I love you too much for you to stay and feel like you’re giving up everything you’ve worked so hard for. You don’t have to sacrifice…you don’t have to make that call.”

  He eased her away, the little warmth generated between them dying. Harsh white light spilled over her face, highlighting her reddened eyes, the wet tear tracks on her face. If he touched her now, she’d call his bluff and destroy all his good intentions of letting her go.

  “Safe travels, Sav,” he said and turned back to the auditorium.

  He couldn’t say goodbye—saying goodbye would’ve crushed him.

  Chapter 16

  Savannah trailed after a group of teenagers and their bleary eyed chaperones into Heathrow airport’s massive arrivals hall. Her hair was oily and lank, her eyes red-rimmed from the air-conditioned plane and the thirteen-hour flight from Singapore.

  She paused at the automatic sliding doors that led to the taxi ranks, buttoning her jacket to the throat. Grey clouds and stark rain sheeted down outside. Adjusting the small handbag slung crosswise over her body, she reassured herself that Glen’s envelope was still tucked safely inside. The envelope that contained a flight itinerary in her name.

  Savannah Davis. One way, Auckland to London, business class.

  Three full days in London, then another flight to L.A. in plenty of time for her audition. She sniffed, shoving a hand into her pocket and dragging out a crumpled tissue. Damn the man, why couldn’t she stop crying?

  “Savvy? Is that you?”

  Savannah looked up, her sluggish heartbeat kicking into a breakneck run at the sight of her father a short distance in front of her, his bearded face split into a huge smile.

  “Dad,” she said, followed immediately by an Ooomph as her father yanked her into a bear hug. “What are you doing here? I was going to catch a taxi.”

  “Taxi?” He kissed the top of her head. “You e-mail me with your flight details, saying you’re coming for a flying two day visit, and you think I’ll let you waste a minute of it catching a taxi? Not bloody likely.”

  He hugged her again, hard enough to make Savannah squeak, then abruptly let her go.

  “Blimey, there’s nothing to you.” He pulled back, straightening to his full height. “We’ll stop at the pub for some fish and chips on the way home—and wait ‘til you see the cake the girls have made.”

  Not going to cry, not going to cry… Savannah burst into tears.

  “Ah, little diva.” He e
ngulfed her in another hug, her face mushed against the scratchy wool of his coat.

  He smelled like peppermint and Old Spice cologne. Comforting, familiar smells that transported her back to the childhood scramble to reach Daddy’s arms before her mum could. She remembered those bear hugs, being the focus of her father’s intense concentration as he listened to her babble about the things he’d missed while overseas. She’d craved longer and longer periods of that attention as she grew older, but once her parent’s relationship hit the wall, her father’s focus on his only child disintegrated.

  “I’m not your little diva anymore,” she muttered against his chest.

  He patted her back and smoothed down her hair. “So you told me when you were seventeen, but in my heart, you’re still my little girl.”

  She sniffed. “That’s pretty lame, Dad.”

  “Your old man is pretty lame now. I’ve lost some of my harsher edges. Married to the right person’ll do that for you, you know.”

  Savannah swiped a hand over her wet cheek. “No, can’t say I do. Marriage didn’t work out so well for me.”

  Her father let her go, digging around in his jacket pocket and retrieving a plaid handkerchief. “Yes, hmmph. Here. Don’t use your sleeve.”

  A quick bark of laughter escaped out of her. “Dad, I’m not a kid.”

  He grinned, and her heart gave a little squeeze.

  “Sorry, old habits.”

  Savannah took the handkerchief and blew her nose. When she looked up, her father continued to stare at her.

  “I should’ve come,” he said. “Dealt with your smarmy little maggot of a husband, so you didn’t have to.”

  Savannah’s chin tilted up. “Liam was my problem. I’m strong enough to take care of my own messes.”

  Except the mess she’d made of her and Glen—she had no idea how to take care of that.

  His lips curled into a rueful grin above his grizzled beard. “Always were the strong one out of my girls. You’d never give up if you wanted it badly enough.” He squeezed her arm, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “That’s why Rachel and I are so proud of you.” Then his eyes flicked down to the two suitcases at her side. “Anyway. Rachel’s dying to show you the album she’s made for you—she’s gone completely bonkers on this scrap-booking thing. Spent a bloody fortune.” He grabbed the handle of the larger suitcase.