What if he—like so many before him—thought she wasn’t good enough to keep around?
She stared into space for a long time, trying to sort out all her thoughts and feelings. It wasn’t until Neil set his laptop down on the coffee table with a clatter that she snapped back to the present. The sun had long gone down, and it was pitch black outside. On any normal day, she’d have headed back to her cabin by now.
Violet rose and stretched. “You know, it’s okay for you to sleep over. You guys have been dating for six weeks. I took health class and I watch TV, so it’s not like I don’t know what you guys are doing when I’m hanging out with Ruth or babysitting the twins.”
“Um…” Laurel had no quick-witted response to that one.
Neil smirked. “Told ya.”
“Yeah, because that’s the kind of comment that might get you laid tonight.” Then she closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her lids while the Graveses laughed. “You two are pains in the butt, you know that right?”
“It’s part of our charm,” he assured her.
She shot him an incredulous look. “Is that what you call it? Charm?”
“Of course,” they answered at the same time, both looking a bit wounded.
“I’m going to go brush my teeth. You guys have fun. Try not to get too loud tonight.” With that, Vi wandered into the bathroom and closed the door.
“I think your daughter just traumatized me for life.” Laurel set aside her sketchbook while Neil snickered and offered her a hand up.
“Kids will do that on a fairly regular basis.”
Because she really didn’t want to be alone, staring at her ceiling and having her thoughts chase themselves in circles all night, she let him lead her into his bedroom. She’d resisted before now, maybe to protect Violet, maybe to protect herself. Both had been fruitless.
Yeah, she could use some distraction. And Neil was just the man for the job.
“Woohoo!”
Screeching at a pitch that would make dogs howl, Violet swung out on a rope over the lake. At the top of the arc, she let go, crashing into the water with a terrific splash. She came up laughing, slicking her hair back from her face. Ruth swam up and the two girls grabbed on to each other, chattering a million miles an hour.
The sun shone brightly, and Neil sat next to Laurel on a couple of folding chairs. He’d taken a rare day off from writing—okay, he’d gotten some in before Vi woke up—and he was enjoying some time outdoors soaking up the sunshine while the breeze ruffled his hair. He had a cold beer in one hand, and Laurel’s slim palm nestled in the other. They’d swum for an hour before they’d gotten out to sit on the beach, but the teens were still going strong. He sighed, contentment winding through him. The feeling was weird, but he couldn’t protest.
It was really nice to see Vi acting like a normal girl, less serious, less like the world rested on her narrow shoulders. She’d blossomed in a lot of ways the last couple of months, and he hoped this meant some of the grief over her mother’s loss had gotten a little easier to bear.
This summer had been good for both of them. He’d somehow managed to meet all of his insane deadlines so far. Only the script draft remained unfinished, and he had a good handle on it. Even better, he’d had the amazing good fortune to meet Laurel. She’d been a godsend for both his daughter and him. He’d never have survived this program without her. He was starting to wonder how he’d survive life without her when it came time to part. But the truth was, his existence was a series of insane deadlines and jumping from one ulcer-inducing scenario to another. That was no kind of life to offer a woman like Laurel. She would hate it, and he would hate disappointing her.
“Let’s race to shore!” Ruth shouted, splashing through the water as she tried to dart toward the beach.
Violet overtook her within a few yards, and led the rest of the way. She slogged out onto the rocky beach in front of the adults. Maybe ten seconds later, Ruth emerged behind her.
Raising her arms in triumph, Vi danced in a little circle. “I win, I win!”
“Only because we’re in the water.” Ruth propped her fists on her hips and grinned. “Let’s put some running shoes on and see who wins.”
“I’m not that dumb.” Vi squeezed the water out of her wet hair. “I’d totally lose.”
“You seem to be enjoying all the swimming this summer,” Neil commented. “Maybe you can look at joining the swim team at school.”
“No!” Her face set into mulish lines as she faced him. “I’m so not interested. At all.”
“Okay.” He shrugged, uncertain where the sudden drama had come from. “No need to bite my head off.”
“Sorry.” But her tone suggested otherwise. She waded back into the lake, and paddled away from shore, striking out for open water.
“Don’t go too far out, please!” he called.
She shot a resentful look over her shoulder. “I won’t!”
Ruth stood there looking puzzled, but then followed her friend.
When the girls were out of earshot, Laurel whispered, “Whoa, someone’s in a mood.”
“It’s not the first time lately.” Neil shook his head. “She’s been in a snit for almost a week. There was a gigantic meltdown yesterday morning about—”
“Hey, Laurel! Hey, Neil!” A trio of other artists broke from the treeline, loaded down with towels and six packs of Coke or Coors.
And that was the end of any serious conversation. Neil crossed his ankles. “Looks like we’re having a party.”
He waved a welcome to the newcomers, while Laurel hopped up to greet everyone. He sat back and watched her socialize, enjoying the way her bikini clung to her curves. She had, bar none, the nicest ass he’d ever seen. Her quick laugh drew his attention back to the fact that they had company. She glanced over her shoulder, her smile inviting him to join in the inevitable fun. After pushing out of his chair, he went to do just that. As if he could resist the temptation she offered. He hadn’t succeeded so far. But, then, he hadn’t tried very hard, had he?
Damn, he was going to miss her. Talking to her, laughing with her, watching her paint, making love with her. He tried not to think about the fact that the three months had somehow dwindled down to a handful of weeks. Were they down to five weeks? Maybe it was four. The time slipped away in a lovely haze here, where the days blurred into each other.
So, the only thing he could do was make sure to savor every second he had left.
“I think this party is unauthorized.” Mimi charged down the path, trying to look stern. Since she didn’t have a stern bone in her body, everyone laughed. She giggled, turned and beckoned to someone behind her.
A lanky guy in a delivery uniform stepped forward, appearing more than a little uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. “Which one of you is Neil Graves?”
“Here.” Neil toasted the other man with his beer bottle.
“Sign, please.” The lanky dude thrust a digital pad in Neil’s direction, and he scrawled an illegible signature across it. After taking back the pad, the guy dug around in his messenger bag and handed over a large envelope. He nodded and pivoted to return the way he’d come. “I can find my way back.”
“He said only you could sign, so I brought him out here. I saw you head this way a few hours ago, so I took a gamble you were still here.” Mimi winked. “Plus, it was kinda fun to drag him over the river and through the woods. Literally.”
“He looks so pleased to have gotten a taste of nature,” Laurel quipped.
Mimi sucked in her cheeks, trying not to laugh. She choked out, “He stepped in a big pile of deer poop.”
The group dissolved into guffaws, and Mimi stopped fighting the giggles.
Ignoring them, Neil walked over to his chair to sit while he opened the envelope. A short note from his agent was jotted on a Post-It stuck to the front of a thick contract. It t
ook a while to read through the legalese, and he could feel the tension start to build in his neck and shoulders, as if the weight of the world just got a little heavier.
“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly weary.
“What’s wrong?” Laurel settled into her chair sideways, leaning over the armrest to look at what he held.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Because he should be thrilled about this news—as his agent had said in the note—but he wasn’t. “You know my last trilogy? Not the new serial killer one, but—”
“The Sinister series?” she filled in. “Of course. Creepy as hell.”
His lips twitched, but he couldn’t quite manage a real smile. “One of the cable channels wants to make a TV show out of it.”
“But you don’t look happy.” She leaned back in her seat, her gaze considering. “They want you to write scripts for it.”
“Nailed it one guess.” He tucked the contract into its holder. He’d have to read it more carefully later. “They even want to fly a rep here to talk to me about it.”
“Tell them no,” she burst out.
That brought his head up, and he stared at her. “What?”
Her lips pursed and she looked up at the cloudless blue sky, as if she didn’t know how or what to say to him. She almost looked like she wanted to cry.
“Hey. Talk to me.” He tapped his sandal against hers.
“You take on too much, Neil.” Her tone was somewhere between exasperated and concerned. “Right now, you’re managing to keep everything together, meet all your obligations, but how long will that last if you can’t or won’t say no to anyone?” She held up her hand like she wanted to ward off any response he had. “You told me once that Vi was your number one priority, and I believed you. But what’s your number two priority? What’s number three? You only have so many hours in a day—are you spending them on what’s most important to you? If not, you need to either turn down some offers or farm them out.”
He drummed his fingers on the armrest. “It’s so ingrained when you’re a struggling writer, not to say no to any good opportunity. What if that chance never comes up again? What if you said no to the thing that would launch you into superstardom?”
“Newsflash, Graves.” She swatted his knee. “You’re already a superstar. Do you need more money?”
“No. Having Violet right out of college meant I never got to have the chance to be reckless and crazy with my money like most people who experience early success. Everything went to making sure she had what she needed, then to making sure she had college paid for, then to making sure I had retirement set aside so she wasn’t stuck taking care of me when I’m too old to work. Every dime of my royalties has gone to savings or investments.” He paused. “Okay, I have a classic Mustang convertible too. One toy’s not too much.”
“Well, you no longer have to say yes. Or if you say yes, it can be on your terms.” She swung her arm in an expansive arc. “Let them make the TV show and pay you handsomely for it, but maybe recommend another writer. It’s okay to delegate.”
“You’re rocking my world with your wild and stress-free ideas,” he drawled. And he’d honestly never considered turning over his work for someone else to mess with. When he wrote the script, he had at least some control in how his novels translated to the big screen.
But what if he could maintain some creative oversight without being involved in the day-to-day operation of the television show? All he had to do was tell his agent he wanted to renegotiate the contract terms. The man made a good amount of cash from his percentage of Neil’s earnings—it was okay to make him earn it.
“You’re thinking about it. Good, keep doing that because I’m totally right.” Laurel patted his wrist. “I’m going to swim some more.”
She hopped up, kissed him with lingering sweetness, and went to join Vi and Ruth in the water. He settled deeper into his seat and took a swig of beer, considering how he might make this TV gig work.
And he already felt better just realizing he wouldn’t be burdened with one more good thing. “Huh.”
Chapter Nine
“We only have a week left, baby.” Neil poked his head into Violet’s room, taking in the piles of stones of various shapes and sizes that seemed to have grown exponentially in the months they’d been here. “You may want to start weeding out your collection and decide which ones will come with us and which will be released back into the wild.”
She threw herself in front of him, clamping her hands on each side of the doorframe to block his way. “They’re all coming with me.”
“Vi, that’s crazy.” Shaking his head, he stepped back. “What are you going to do with all of these rocks?”
“If they don’t go back to LA, I don’t go back to LA,” she snapped as she rushed by him and flounced out of the house, slamming the screen door behind her.
He projected his voice so he knew she heard him. “Violet Marie, this discussion is not finished.”
“I have to babysit now,” she yelled without turning around. “I’ll be back later. Then you can finish ruining my life.”
Neil swore under his breath. These outbursts had become more frequent in the last couple of weeks. The closer they got to the end of summer, the moodier she’d become. She was more prone to lash out over little things, and had had a few epic meltdowns. He was uncertain if this was just a part of being a teenager, or if something direr was wrong. Should he confront her about her attitude or let it blow over?
If he were brutally honest, he’d admit he was avoiding that argument. He feared her explosions might have something to do with his deepening relationship with Laurel—this was the first time Vi had ever gotten to know someone he’d dated since he split up with her mother. He was scared to death he was going to have to choose between the two females in his life that meant the most to him, and he didn’t want to face that.
Not yet.
He figured chasing her down and confronting her in front of Helen, her family, and probably Ruth, would only exacerbate the problem and make communication impossible, so he’d have to wait until she returned. Which was several hours from now.
Going over to Laurel’s held some appeal, but he wasn’t really in the mood for company. Frankly, he’d like a snifter of good scotch and a way to make all his problems evaporate for a while. Since that was unlikely to happen, he might as well try to write.
Try was the operative word.
Mostly it was a lesson in frustration of attempting to figure out what was up with Vi and what the hell he should do about this thing he had going on with Laurel. Ask her to date long-distance? See if she was available for a standing hook-up any time she happened to be in southern California? What would she want, if anything?
And how would their choices about the future affect his child? Would breaking things off with Laurel at the end of summer be better for Violet? She seemed to adore Laurel, but maybe she’d changed her mind and didn’t know how to tell him. She’d been doing so well, been happy and carefree, but seemed to have regressed. Only instead of grief-stricken, now she was angry.
Yeah, it was definitely time to have a talk with his daughter. He hoped this was nothing more than a growing pain, but he had to know for sure.
For all of their sakes.
Laurel sat on her porch, ostensibly to sketch the mountains, but her paper was mostly filled with little doodles of Gloria and Ruth, Mateo and Jina, Neil and Violet. Those last two had the biggest drawings. She didn’t want to forget any of the people she’d met here. It had been a golden summer, perfect in many ways. She wanted to capture it somehow so it couldn’t escape her, so she wouldn’t forget a single moment. Her heart squeezed at the thought of it ending.
A door slammed, and she looked up, startled.
Violet came storming up the dirt road, swiping at her cheeks.
After tossing her sketchbook aside, Laurel rose and held ou
t her hand. “Hey, honey. Come here. What’s up?”
Vi made a beeline for her, throwing herself into Laurel’s arms and sobbing as if her heart might break. They sank down on the porch steps, and Laurel rocked the teen, stroking her hair and crooning reassurances. She had no idea what might be wrong, but whatever it was wasn’t good.
“He’s so mean sometimes,” Vi choked out.
Eyebrows arching, Laurel asked, “Your dad?”
The girl nodded, her dark locks rustling against Laurel’s shirt. “He won’t let me take all the rocks Ruth and I collected. I just want something to remind me of here when we have to go back to that place.”
The last word came out as a vicious snarl. “You mean LA?”
“I hate it there.” A fresh round of sobs had Vi burrowing into Laurel’s shirt.
Laurel blinked. “What’s wrong with LA, sweetie? It’s not just because you’re in a new school, is it?”
“The school sucks. I have no friends. None. Not even one.” Vi’s voice hardened. “The teachers are even worse.”
“All of the teachers?” Laurel leaned back to get a look at her face.
“Yes!” Her chin jutted mulishly. “The English teacher is the worst. He’s an asshole.”
Since Violet wasn’t prone to swearing, Laurel’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “What’s he been doing?”
A million possibilities, each worse than the next, pelted through her mind. Had this man touched Vi? Teachers having affairs with students popped up on the news with alarming frequency these days. Cold dread knotted in Laurel’s gut. Oh God. Oh. God. She didn’t know how to handle this. She wasn’t a parent. But if Vi felt comfortable telling her about it, she wouldn’t silence her. So she sat and waited for the girl to speak, her palms slicked with sweat.
Rockies Retreat: Destination: Desire, Book 5 Page 12
