by Tawny Weber
“Isn’t it fabulous? I’ve never had a deal come together this quickly. All I had to do was mention that Trent Evans had died trying to be a SEAL, and suddenly the gentleman in the Public Affairs office was ready to bend over backward to make this happen for us.” Pauline rolled her eyes. “I think he’s planning to build a campaign of his own out of the idea of giving back to one of their own.”
Stunned, sure her mouth was hanging open, Livi could only shake her head. It took a lot of effort to find her voice, even more to keep from swearing when she did.
“Let me get this straight.” She cleared her throat of all the cussing going on in her head. “All of my life, you refused to talk about, provide information or even acknowledge my father. Now you’re suddenly ready to throw him on the altar as a sacrifice to the Gods of Getting Ahead?”
Pauline smoothed a hand over her hair, checking to be sure it was all tidy in its low ponytail as she considered the question.
Then she gave a sharp nod.
“If they’ll have him, yes. Light the sacrificial flames. He might as well do something to finally contribute to your life, don’t you think? And his name made a difference with that captain. The man pulled a few strings, put me in touch with a few connections, and voilà.” Pauline waved her hand in the air with a snap. “We’re good to go.”
“No,” Livi corrected, biting the word off with a snap of her teeth. “We are not good to go. We are not ready to begin. Without even getting into the moral issues that your methods bring up, there are plenty of other reasons this isn’t ready to go.”
No longer flitting around her room, Pauline stood in front of her daughter with an assessing expression on her face. Livi didn’t know what she was looking for, or what she saw. And for once, she didn’t care. This entire conversation was making her ill. She wanted it over with.
“I’ve barely written my adaption of the program. I haven’t had time to work through the exercises on anything but paper, nor have I written the script. I don’t have a workout crew, and even if I did, next week is too soon for them to know the program, too.”
There were other reasons, of course. But after Pauline’s reaction to Livi’s comments about using Trent, Livi figured she’d keep her personal reasons to herself. Instead she arched her brow, hoping against hope that logic and reason would prevail. Experience, and the clawing nausea in her stomach, warned her otherwise.
“What’s to write? The SEAL program is already written.” Offering Livi a stiff smile, Pauline sat down again and did what she always did...focused on the situation at hand. No need to bring pesky things like emotions into the fray. “Their workout is famous, Olivia. Why would it need to be adapted?”
“Why?” Livi bit her lip, knowing a tantrum wouldn’t help the situation. But man, she wished she could throw one, anyway. “A high school drama teacher doesn’t hit the set, challenging Johnny Depp for the role of Jack Sparrow. A piano instructor wouldn’t shove her way into Beethoven’s house, plop down at his piano and charge people to listen to her play his symphony.”
“Isn’t Johnny Depp finished with that role? And correct me if I’m wrong, but Beethoven is dead.” Pauline waited a beat, probably to give Livi time to finish grinding her teeth, then leaned forward to pat her daughter’s knee. “Don’t sell yourself short, darling. You’re quite well-known in your own right. Your influence rating is even on par with some professional athletes, and you know all there is to know about exercise and fitness. This is the next logical step. You’ll be famous.”
But she didn’t want to be famous.
As if an inky black wave had engulfed her, everything went dark and Livi felt the room spin. She gulped air, trying to level out her system. Passing out wouldn’t convince Pauline of anything. But something had to.
Because the only thing Livi wanted to avoid more than fame was ruining what she had with Mitch. And her mother’s latest scheme definitely wouldn’t go over well. She’d seen how protective he was of the actual SEAL workout. And how unenthusiastic he’d been about her making another program based on it. He’d basically told her to stay out of his career not ten minutes ago. She was pretty sure this project would fly in the face of that request.
Still, thinking of Mitch calmed Livi. He was the most confident, self-assured person she’d ever met. How would he handle this? He’d tell her to take charge and put her wants and needs first. Ready to see how that felt, Livi took a deep breath. Once her emotions settled down, she offered her most composed, let’s-be-reasonable smile.
“You should have discussed this with me, Mother.”
“I’m discussing it with you now, aren’t I?”
“After the fact.”
“Of course. If I’d told you what I was planning, you’d have worked yourself into a nervous frenzy. This way you don’t have time to be concerned.”
“Right. So cutting me out of negotiations and keeping this project hush-hush until it was a done deal was, what? For my own good?” Forgetting being composed and reasonable, Livi crossed her arms over her chest, tapping one booted foot against the glossy ebony floor as she gave her mother a challenging stare. “You did an end run around me, making decisions you knew I’d be unhappy with.”
Unable to tell a direct lie, Pauline took a deep breath of her own this time, sucking the air through pinched nostrils because her lips were clamped shut.
Livi grimaced. She should get up and walk out before her mother managed to unclamp her mouth. But suddenly there was more at stake than just this video arrangement—although that was enough on its own. She was sick and tired of trying to make everyone else happy at the expense of her own comfort.
Livi’s fists were clenched as much against the surge of anger in her gut as against the nausea.
It had to end.
“I didn’t agree to film on base or with the actual SEALs. I don’t want to do this format or take the workout in this direction,” she stated. Even as part of her cried out against everything that’d mean giving up, and another part freaked at the idea of letting people down, Livi set her chin. “I want out of this deal.”
“And how do you propose to get out of it?” Pauline asked, her words so cold they might as well have dripped icicles.
“I don’t care how you do it,” Livi dismissed. “That’s for you to deal with.”
“For me to...” Looking as if her daughter had just told her she was quitting her job to be a kitten skinner, Pauline’s face froze in shock before turning pale white. It only took a second, though, for anger to stain her cheeks red. “So once again, you want no input in the running of your own business except to complain? That’s not how this works, Olivia.”
Livi knew she’d ignored a lot of the elements of running Stripped Down Fitness, but damn it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still her company. Pauline worked for her. Not the other way around.
“I’m tired of how things used to work. I’m tired of other people running my life. First Derrick, now you. It has to end.”
“If you’re unhappy with my management, that’s fine. We can end it,” Pauline snapped. “But first I’m going to remind you of a couple of things.”
“Oh, you are, are you?” Livi rolled her eyes, feeling as if she’d degenerated into a mouthy teenager with braces on her teeth. She knew she was being obnoxious. She didn’t even know why, since this sort of behavior wouldn’t get her anywhere with her mother. All it’d do was make the situation worse. If she wanted to get through to Pauline, she had to be reasonable, logical.
She knew all of that.
But she simply couldn’t make herself care.
“Is this where you tell me how you saved me and my career? This is the part where you take credit for my success and point out all of the ways I should be thanking you?” Gee, didn’t that sound familiar.
Pauline goggled.
That was the only
possible way to describe her slack-jawed, wide-eyed look of absolute shock.
“Olivia Kane, what has gotten into you?” she snapped as soon as she recovered enough to make her jaw work again. “I will not tolerate being spoken to like that.”
“Okay.” Feeling sick to her stomach, at herself, at the entire situation, Livi surged to her feet.
Whoa. She wiped her hand over her damp forehead and, ignoring the little black dots dancing in front of her eyes, grabbed her purse.
One step and she knew she was in trouble.
“Olivia, I’m not finished. Where do you think you’re going?”
Livi didn’t slow her sprint, but she did yell over her shoulder as she hurried toward her mother’s stainless steel bathroom.
“To throw up.”
* * *
MITCH HAD NEVER considered himself to be a romantic guy, and he was pretty sure the last Valentine’s Day he’d celebrated had included construction paper and paste.
But he thought he’d done pretty well tonight. He glanced around the posh, candlelit cabin and nodded. He’d rented a private yacht for their romantic moonlit cruise for two on the San Diego Bay that included a gourmet dinner, a vase of roses and a box of chocolates. Yeah, he thought he’d pulled it off nicely.
And the expression on Livi’s face told him she agreed.
“This is all so beautiful,” she murmured, looking out the cabin window at the ocean.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking across the small table at her. The tiny red dress did amazing things to the view, but it was her face that held his attention. She actually seemed to glow in the candlelight.
“There’s something I wanted to tell you that happened with my video schedule,” she said, the words coming in a rush, as if she were trying to force them out as fast as she could.
“No—” he interrupted. The irritating memory of his grandfather’s recent advice still causing his guts to clench, Mitch shook his head. “No business tonight. No career talk. Just us.”
Livi’s lips parted, her eyes wide and just a little nervous. Then she nodded. “Okay. No business. But if we don’t include any talk about our careers, what’s left?”
Mitch took one of her hands in his, raising her slender fingers to his mouth. Brushing his lips over her knuckles, he challenged, “Let’s find out.”
Two hours later, what he’d found out worried him just a little. Their common ground was vast, their differences interesting.
Her hand still wrapped in his, Mitch led Livi along the ship’s deck to stand at the aft railing, where they could watch the moonlight together.
“It’s so lovely,” she breathed, snugging against him.
“You’re cold,” he realized aloud when he felt her shiver. Looking around, he saw the blanket he’d requested on a nearby bench, grabbed it and wrapped it around her. “Here, this should help.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, pulling the soft cashmere close then curling up against him again. “You’ve thought of everything.”
For a few moments, they stared out at the moon, both appreciating the view of it glistening on the waves. Mitch felt Livi’s barely smothered yawn and glanced down.
“Bored?”
“No, sorry,” she said with an embarrassed laugh. “This is an absolutely wonderful evening. I’ve just been tired lately.”
She’d been looking pale in the morning, too, he remembered. And the few times he’d spoken with her before he’d returned to Southern California she’d sounded pretty drained.
“You’re working too hard,” he observed with a frown. “You’ve seemed worn-out ever since that cruise.”
“Just having trouble refilling the energetic well, I think,” she said. “I don’t do well being ‘on’ for such an extended period of time. Even when I did the Fit To Be Naked tour, I had a lot of quiet time, me time. But on a cruise ship, that’s not possible. I knew going in that it’d be draining, but I didn’t realize just how draining.”
Mitch scowled at the water.
He didn’t want tonight to be about their careers because he didn’t want to think about his. Especially about the choices ahead of him. If he chose DEVGRU, Mitch knew it’d essentially be the end of their relationship. He’d be stationed in Virginia, undergoing intensive training. There was no way they could make a relationship work with that sort of distance, with the intense demands on his time, energy, life.
Still, he felt compelled to protect her. Pulling Livi around so her back was snuggled to his front, he wrapped his arms around her waist and surrounded her with warmth.
Then he did the same with his carefully worded advice.
“Perhaps you could integrate more leisure into your schedule,” he suggested. “Reconsider accepting projects that stress you out and focus on the ones you feel the best about.”
“In other words, don’t work so hard, stand up to my manager about scheduling and don’t do anything I don’t want?” she clarified with a laugh. Turning, Livi looped her hands around the back of his neck and gave Mitch a chiding smile. “I thought we weren’t talking career stuff.”
“Okay, just a little career stuff.” He brushed his lips over hers. “I want you to be happy. I’m coming to realize how important that is to me.”
Livi’s eyes widened, emotions filling them so deeply Mitch felt as if he could drown in the power of them.
“I am happy,” she said. Then she smiled as if it were a new discovery. “I really am. I’m in a wonderful position to do something I love. I have a message to share with people and a great platform to do it from. I have a relationship with an incredible man who makes me even happier.”
Seeing the declaration in her eyes, just there on the tip of her tongue ready to be shared, Mitch did something he’d never done before in his life. He panicked. He couldn’t hear those words yet. Not when he didn’t know if he could respond with his heart, or with his mind.
So he sidestepped.
“You’re an amazing woman,” he told her, his fingers skimming through the hair tangling around her. “You’ve built an incredible business in a highly competitive market. That takes smart strategy, sure, but it also takes something special.”
“Maybe. I know it’s always interesting, if nothing else,” she said with a small shrug, her gaze still bright but a little shuttered, as if she’d pulled those huge emotions back behind a safety barrier. “I face challenges, of course. But that’s a good thing, right? What’s life without those?”
“You mean challenges like overcoming your shyness?”
“More like deciding on the right direction to go in next,” she said quietly. The wind danced around them, rocking the boat and blowing through Livi’s hair. “I feel as if I’m at a crossroad. One path is familiar, and while it’s not always comfortable, at least I know it’s a secure, well-thought-out path.”
Frowning a little, Mitch tucked a swath of her silky hair so he could more clearly see her face. It sounded as if they were on the same path, both facing the same choices. Different terrains and directions, of course. But still...
“What’s on the other path?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” She gave a delighted laugh. “That’s so tempting and scary and intriguing, isn’t it? But it could also be a huge mistake. I’m always afraid to make those.”
Yeah. Him, too.
“Which path do you want to take?” Which did he want to take?
“The one that makes me happy, I suppose. It’s hard to know which that is, though, isn’t it?”
“What would make you happiest?” he asked quietly.
“For someone to love me,” she said, her smile so beautiful it made his heart ache. “To be loved and understood and accepted. Not a huge dream, but it’s my biggest.”
Mitch cupped her face in his hands, lifting it to his. He
stared deep into her eyes, wishing so much that he could make her dream come true. Her smile shook a little, either at the intensity of his gaze or at what she saw in his own eyes.
As much in caution against what she might be seeing as in desperate need, Mitch took her mouth.
There were a thousand words in his kiss.
Passionate words, needy words. Persuasively tempting words. He put everything he couldn’t say into that kiss. Everything he wanted, everything he hoped for—even dreams he’d never realized he had until her.
But even as he pulled her onto the deck chair and wrapped himself around her, letting the kiss take them deeper, Mitch was careful.
He’d put all of those words and emotions in that kiss.
But he didn’t give the one thing he didn’t think he could offer.
A promise.
12
MITCH CROSSED THE COMPOUND, his shoulders stiffening when he noticed the looks heading his way. He’d been getting them all day.
Actually, he’d gotten looks all his life. A man dedicated to perfecting his career, to knowing just what to train in, where to be at what time in order to accelerate his ascent up the ranks got a lot of stares. When that man was the son of a captain, with a grandfather like Admiral Donovan, speculation always came with the stares.
Mitch had faced jealousy, accusations of nepotism and even hate because of his success.
But these stares were different.
Mocking. Angry. Derisive, even.
What the hell was going on? He’d been off base on leave since Valentine’s Day, staying at Livi’s instead of hitting the barracks. You’d think if something ugly had gone down somebody would have contacted him.
He strode through the building toward Captain Goodman’s office, wondering if whatever was going down was the reason the AOIC of the SEALs had summoned him. He knew how to read the signs. Nobody had the battle vibe, but there was no worry in the air. Whatever was being aimed his way, it was personal.
