by Nicole Helm
“Here.” He held out a small business card. “I know you’ve got the office number, but my cell is on there. Call me if you need anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
He frowned down at her when she didn’t take the card. “Anything, Vivvy. It’s not some sexual innuendo.”
She had the most horrific realization tears were stinging her eyes. She never cried. Never. Nothing ever mattered enough to cry over.
“Thanks, Nate. See you later.” She took the card, but rushed past him before anything else could be said.
She had to get back to LA.
Chapter Eight
Vivvy sat in the middle of the hotel bed with her legs crossed and her hands resting on her knees. It wasn’t exactly a high-end motel, but it was clean and bug-less. That was what mattered.
She’d pulled the curtains closed to block out the early evening light and all the inside lights were off. She sat in the dim room breathing in and out.
She kept her eyes open and trained on the painting of a barn on the wall in front of her. Normally, her eyes would be closed and she would imagine sitting on the beach watching the ocean move.
Today, every time she closed her eyes, she saw Nate’s face, felt his lips on hers. Every time she closed her eyes, she could almost relive those slow, loving strokes.
Vivvy let out a long moan. What had that man done to her?
She kicked out of her meditation pose and flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. What was happening to her? She had learned this lesson. She wasn’t meant to stick, and she wasn’t the soothing girlfriend men looked for.
In those early years of dating she’d tried. She’d tried to care enough, to be in control enough to make things last. She’d tried to stick, but it had never worked. She didn’t know how.
Just because Nate knew how didn’t mean she could be what he wanted. Hadn’t this afternoon proven that? He’d wanted the truth and she’d been unable to give it to him.
Never before had that been as gut-wrenching as it had been with Nate. No other man had made her want to be different. She’d accepted that and had learned to enjoy the life she was leading. Alone, unattached. It worked for her.
But compared to Nate’s roots, something about it now felt empty. Demo popped into her life and offered all kinds of connection. She’d stopped wishing for connection a long time ago, stopped believing it would last. And yet, she couldn’t help thinking the feeling in her gut right now was wish and belief.
All that centered on Nate.
Vivvy rolled over, burying her face into a pillow to silence the scream that poured out.
“I’m done.” She pushed off the bed, a newfound strength in her bitter outrage. Screw the men in her past who’d left her for soft, smiling, warm women. Screw her parents for their emotional blackmail messing with the way she viewed the world. Screw Nate. Screw every damn person in the world. She had work to do.
For a few hours, Vivvy managed to drown herself in work and push personal feelings and worries aside. She even emailed a few celebrities’ agents she knew. The work made her stronger, cleared her mind of all the panic that had been clawing at her, and reminded her of one simple fact: Nate’s life was in Demo, Kansas. His connection to Harrington made leaving impossible.
Vivvy had a life in LA that required a lot of travel, and not getting mixed up in the TV shows she scouted. Everything she did in her job was what Tyson wanted her to do, and as long as she worked for them, there was no bucking that system.
Besides, Demo was the middle of nowhere. What did she know about living long-term without Starbucks and shopping options beyond Walmart? What did she know about dealing with the same people day in, day out, every single day?
And even if she figured it out, only a crazy person would want any part in Nate’s dysfunctional family.
No matter what strange things she felt, nothing was going to materialize from a seven-night stand.
So why worry?
…
Nate sat on the porch with a bottle of beer. It was a curse-the-world kind of day, even if the Royals were actually up six to zero. Ryan’s voice drifted from inside the house as he yammered into his cell to one of his clients.
Even though he and Ryan didn’t see eye to eye on anything that didn’t include how to properly assemble an airplane engine, there was something nice about having his brother home. About having someone in the small house with him, someone to bitch to about their family. Comforting. Lighter than shouldering the burden alone.
He might feel differently if Vivvy hadn’t freaked out on him today. Ryan would have been at Mom’s, talking up divorce in hopes it would get Dad out of their lives, and Nate would have been enjoying Vivvy and her unique personality and really amazing body.
But she had walked away. She hadn’t been poised doing it, either. Nate didn’t know what to do about that. He didn’t believe the bullshit about claustrophobia, but she hadn’t been willing to let go of that excuse. Hadn’t been willing to show him what was really going on in her brain.
Maybe even her heart.
“Where’s Vivvy tonight?”
Nate resisted the urge to hurl the bottle at Ryan by gripping the neck harder. “Screw off.”
Ryan settled into the empty chair, the chair Nate and Vivvy had spent a very memorable handful of minutes in just two nights ago. What had changed in forty-eight hours? Not even that long, because last night had been easy and comfortable, too. Fun.
That was the danger in screwing around with someone you didn’t know. Messing it up and not understanding how it had started or ended. Vivvy was probably halfway to LA by now, and he didn’t blame her.
The rumble of tires had both brothers looking up and cursing at the same time. “Son of a bitch.”
Nate and Ryan stood, moved shoulder to shoulder, a human barrier shielding Jed Harrington from the house that had been a refuge from him.
“Well, damn it all, look at my boys.” Jed flashed a bright smile, wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Despite hard living, he’d aged well. Well enough that he often pretended he was the twins’ older brother rather than their father. The dumber women he fed that line to fell for it.
Nate stepped forward. “What do you want?”
From the look on Jed’s face he’d accomplished one of three things during his disappearance. Won money gambling, had sex, or gotten some drugs. Hell, the way he was smiling and carrying on, probably all three.
“Is that any way to treat your old man?” Jed took the stairs, completely undeterred by twin looks of unwelcome. “We got a lot to talk about, boys.”
“Where the hell have you been?” Ryan demanded, unmoving. “That TV chick has been here for days.”
“I knew my boy Nate would take care of it.” Jed beamed over at Nate, then winked. “A chip off the old block.”
The thought made Nate sick to his stomach. Especially since he’d probably taken care of it exactly the way his Dad would have. Now he did hope Vivvy was halfway to LA. At least that would put her out of Jed’s radar, even if the idea of never seeing her again had his chest squeezing.
“Afraid not,” Nate finally returned, battling the roughness in his voice. “I’m pretty sure she’s on her way back to California.”
That dimmed some of Jed’s exuberance. “She was supposed to stay until Sunday night.”
Nate shrugged and ignored Ryan’s questioning look. The less he said the better.
“What’d you do?” Jed demanded, his smile and good humor quickly moving to the opposite. “What the fuck did you do to mess this up for me?”
Nate squared his shoulders, looked directly into his old man’s eyes. “I didn’t do shit to you. This isn’t about you. You weren’t even here.”
“That shouldn’t matter.” Jed puffed out his chest. “You’re a grown man, aren’t you? This could be it for us. Don’t you know how to take care of things? Don’t you know how to handle your responsibilities? I may have gotten sidetracked, but I thought you c
ould handle this. You’re a grown man. You should be able to take care of your own.”
Ryan snorted. “Like you can talk. You’re a fifty-five-year-old teenager.”
“You stay out of this.” Jed waved a finger toward Ryan. “What are you even doing here? You don’t live here.”
Ryan stood his ground as Jed took the final step and stood almost chest-to-chest with him.
“It doesn’t matter where I live. This is still my family and I’ll be damned if I let you make a fool out of us on TV just because you think it’ll line your pockets and keep you knee-deep in women.”
When it came to the three of them, someone had to be the cooler head. Nate sighed. It looked like that was going to be him. Nothing new there. “Bottom line is she’s gone and we’re not doing it.”
“Like hell—”
“Harrington is in my name now. You can’t do a damn thing about it.” Nate nudged Ryan out of the way so Nate was facing Jed. “You’re not welcome here. This is my house. Go home to Mom. Forget about this TV business.”
“This is my deal.” Jed jabbed a thumb into his chest. “Mine.”
“You weren’t here. Now it’s mine.” Nate resisted the urge to push his father down the stairs. A physical altercation wasn’t the answer.
“Where’s she staying? Ivy Vines? I’m going to go—”
Nate grabbed his father’s arm before the man could turn. “I said she’s gone. You’re going to go home. You’re going to deal with Mom. You’re going to talk to your father, but you are not going anywhere near Vi—Ms. Marsh.” Vivvy had already seen enough of his family to embarrass the hell out of him, but even as cool and collected as she was, he couldn’t imagine her remaining her impassive self in the face of Jed.
Jed jerked away. “You seem to be under the impression you can boss me around, son. That’s a mistake.”
“You seem to be under the impression you’re in control, Dad. And that’s a mistake. I’m in charge now. Of Harrington, of this TV thing, of the whole nine yards.”
Jed snorted loudly. “Keep thinking that, boy. We’ll see who ends up on top.” Jed stalked back to his rusting-out car. Nate was pretty sure Jed would head home. He would want to charm Vivvy into seeing things his way, and he couldn’t do that with a head full of steam. Still, best not to take the chance.
Ryan let out a breath. “God, I hate that son of a bitch.”
“We’ll start a club about it later. I’ve got to warn Vivvy.”
“Thought you said she was back in LA.”
Nate shrugged, moved past Ryan, and stalked inside to his cell. “I don’t know what she’s doing, but I don’t want him getting anywhere near her.” To protect her. To protect himself.
Nate ignored Ryan’s discerning look and pulled Vivvy’s business card out of his wallet. He walked away from Ryan and into his room, then closed the door as he dialed.
It rang five times. Nate clutched the business card, hoping that meant she was in the air.
“Hello.” Her voice was weary.
He rubbed a palm to his forehead, felt like an idiot. Even if what he was doing was necessary. “Are you in Addington?”
She paused, the sound of her breath the only noise for a few seconds. Nate ground his teeth to keep from demanding the truth. A sense of impending doom plagued him.
“Yes,” she finally said.
“My dad showed up today. If he figures out where you are, he’s going to try and talk to you.”
“You sound worried.”
“I am.” That wasn’t hard to admit. “I don’t trust the guy.” Especially with a hot woman and a hotel room. He’d never seen his father violent, and though Jed had a reputation with women it was with easy women, not by pushing himself on unwilling ones.
Still…
“I don’t think you should talk to him outside of Harrington.” While Nate was around to supervise. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”
Silence stretched again. “Yes.”
His relieved breath whooshed out into the phone. You’re an idiot. He should be pissed that she was staying, that she still thought she was going to convince him to do this stupid show, not happy she’d be back. That he’d see her again.
“I, um, I need to talk to you. I’d wait until tomorrow, but I’d like to have this conversation without your family around.”
He didn’t know what to make of that. “Okay, so—”
“Meet me at the Addington Hotel bar at eight, okay?”
“Vivvy.”
“It’s just business. Nothing else.” Her voice sounded like a fierce whisper.
Nothing else. Well. He should refuse. Tell her to go back to LA. End of story.
“All right. I’ll be there at eight.” He’d tell her in person.
Sure.
Chapter Nine
When Nate arrived at the Addington Hotel, he’d practiced his good-bye speech a million times in his head. It was something new for him. He didn’t usually do the good-bye-ing. Although, hadn’t Vivvy leaving Harrington this afternoon been her good-bye?
This was to tie up loose ends. This was just business. She’d made that perfectly clear.
He stepped into the lobby of the hotel and walked into the bar. What the hell was he doing? Vivvy sat at one of the stools. Her computer was on the bar, an almost empty glass of wine next to her.
Because he was an idiot, his heart kicked hard against his ribs. But this wasn’t about heart, it was about business. And his business was not doing her show.
“Vivvy.”
She looked up from her computer and her mouth curved into the most cursory of smiles. Her eyes didn’t meet his. Instead, she gestured to the seat next to her. “Please have a seat.”
“I’m not sure there’s much point to this meeting. I’m not doing your show. Nothing has changed my mind.”
“This will.” This time her eyes met his, and he saw that determination he’d recognized in her on that first day.
He took a seat because trying to argue with her and stand required way too much energy. “Vivvy—”
“I have an idea.”
“I’m not interested in any ideas. The bottom line is I don’t want my family on TV, and I’d think after seeing them you’d understand why I can’t possibly change my mind on that.”
“What if they weren’t a part of it?”
It didn’t compute. Not one word. “Excuse me?”
“What if your parents, your grandfather, weren’t a part of the show? I know I mentioned Ryan being involved, but what if the show was just you and Ryan and planes? No one else.” She said it carefully, as if she were laying it out for a kindergartner, but he was too confused and surprised to be offended.
“I don’t get it.”
“My idea,” she replied, folding her hands in her lap. “You and Ryan fix up celebrity planes. There are a lot of hooks there. Celebrities, obviously. You and Ryan are good-looking. We’ll get a small aviation contingent. Since your father is unreliable and seems like a small part of your operation, it’s easy to rule him out. Your mother only works part-time, and as I mentioned before, no one wants to exploit Millard’s illness. It seems easy enough to change the focus of the show from family to celebrity.”
She gestured to the bartender for a refill. For the first time Nate noticed the faintest hint of nerves on her. The lack of eye contact, a not-quite-steady hand on the glass.
“Think about it,” she said. “Talk to Ryan.”
Nate tried to make sense of it. A show that would be just him and Ryan. It would mean diversifying the way he’d been wanting to do. It would mean exposure for Harrington without advertising its less-than-stellar elements.
It could mean something really good. The businessman in him held onto the idea, turned it over and over in his mind. Without the risks, this could be all about reward. But… “Ryan’s a lawyer. He doesn’t even live here.”
“We could work around his schedule.”
“Vivvy—”
“I just wanted to
tell you in person without anyone overhearing, to give you time to think about it. I’ll be back at Harrington tomorrow, but...I moved my flight up.” She took her newly filled glass and took a long drink. “I’ll be leaving Saturday morning. So, tomorrow will be my last day.” When she set the glass down, she kept her gaze on it, twisting her fingers around the stem.
“Are you saying I need to decide by tomorrow?”
“I’m saying I need you to decide as soon as possible. I have a meeting with my bosses Monday morning, and I’ll need your go-ahead to pitch this new idea. I can’t pitch a show about Harrington without a Harrington agreeing to it. I think it would be best if that Harrington was you. I need your cooperation.”
Nate frowned at the hint of desperation in her voice. If there was one thing he’d never associated with Vivvy it was desperation or any kind of weakness. Especially when it came to her job.
“So, think it over. Discuss it with Ryan. If you have any questions I can address them to the best of my ability tomorrow.”
“And that’s...it?” Yes, that was it. Why was he asking? To sound like a moron? A pathetic one at that.
She frowned at her glass, kept twisting it around. “What else would there be?”
“Right.” Nate refused to acknowledge the little stab of hurt. What did he expect? He’d known this was the eventual outcome. If his heart somehow got tangled into it, that was his own damn fault. “Wouldn’t want to have a discussion about feelings, now would we?”
“Nate,” she said on a sigh. “We can’t...do this anymore.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “We both know that.”
Nate expelled a breath. She was right. So why couldn’t he accept that? Nate studied her profile—she actually looked a little sad. It soothed his bruised ego.
“It was fun,” she said with a nod. “A lot of fun. We both knew it would end. I’m just upping the expiration date a few days.”
“Yeah. About that. Why?”
She blinked, and still refused to look at him. He was a glutton for punishment, because he reached out and covered her hand with his. She looked at their hands and didn’t pull hers away.
