by Jo Leigh
Repeated calls to Eve Best at CATL-TV have gone unanswered. Roy Best has refused comment.
The investigative staff at Peachtree Free Press challenge Eve Best to come out of hiding and tell her viewers the real story. After all, why should she put the blinding spotlight on the secrets of others on live television when she’s so unwilling to bring her own to the light of day?
Eve looked up, and Dylan flinched. She could only imagine what her face must look like. Nicole reached out a tentative hand and laid it on Eve’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Nobody could be fine after reading something like this.”
Mitch took the paper from her and scanned the article. “It’s a bucket of lies, Eve. They’re just trying to sell more of their lousy rag.”
“You’ve never heard this rumor before?” Nicole asked.
“Never.” But the word rang hollow. Because it would explain that photo. And Adele Pierce-so obviously the paper’s so-called source-who had said Uncle Roy needed to clean up his mess. And Aunt Anne at dinner, behaving so strangely. What had she said? Something about the truth.
“I have to talk to my uncle,” Eve blurted. “Today. This minute.”
“You’re not driving anywhere after a shock like this.” Mitch picked her cropped linen jacket off the back of her chair and handed it to her. “I’ll take you.”
Her phone rang, and Dylan picked it up, waving the two of them toward the door. Then he called, “Eve. There’s a visitor in the lobby for you.”
“Not interested. We’ll go out the back door.”
“Yeah, you are. It’s your uncle.”
Eve stopped dead in the middle of the carpet. “My Uncle Roy? Is downstairs? Now?”
Dylan nodded.
She resisted the urge to ask Dylan why he wasn’t already on his way to fetch him. “Escort him in here, please, Dylan. And find us some brandy or something. Don’t look at me like that-this is a crisis. Raid Dan’s office-I know he’s got liquor in his sideboard.”
Mitch backed toward the door. “I’ll give the two of you some privacy. This is a family matter.”
She grabbed his jacket. “Please don’t. I need you. Please.”
For a moment, she thought she’d lose him-that the shaken self-confidence he’d allowed to swamp him earlier would come back and separate them just when she needed him more than ever before. But then a new expression filled his eyes, and he straightened his shoulders.
“You do?”
“Yes.” She burrowed into his arms and felt like shouting hallelujah as they went around her body, strong and sure. “Now. Later. Forever. Just stay.”
And that’s how her Uncle Roy found them when Dylan ushered him in a moment later. Dylan put a brand-new bottle of Courvoisier and three ceramic coffee mugs from the kitchen on her low table and shut the door behind him.
Roy Best looked as though he didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood uneasily, searching Eve’s face, no doubt for some clue as to her feelings.
She could have helped him out if she’d only known herself what those were. To give herself a moment to find her equilibrium, Eve poured a shot for all of them, then sat next to her uncle on the short couch. Roy was neatly put together in an expensive suit and sober tie, but his face…he looked as though he were in shock.
Maybe he was. Even though Mitch stood behind her, Roy didn’t seem to be aware there was anyone but Eve in the room.
“You must hate me,” he said at last, swirling the brandy in the mug but not sipping it. She supposed they were committing some kind of brandy sin by not drinking it out of snifters, but they had to work with what they were given.
“Of course not,” she assured him softly. “I only saw the paper just now, but ever since I went to Mirabel on the weekend, I’ve seen and heard things that have puzzled me. The paper has one slant that would explain them. I’d love to hear yours, if you want to tell me.”
He gave up on the drink and put it on the table. “That’s just it. It isn’t slanted. Except for the nasty tone of it, the paper has its essentials correct. I’m your biological father.”
Luke, I am your father, she heard James Earl Jones say in her head. You look like Evalyne, Adele said, her voice threading over it. So does my niece. She’s fourteen, her own voice said, adding to the mix. She wasn’t blond, like both Loreen and her da-Gibson. She was a green-eyed brunette. Like Evalyne. Like Roy.
“Do Karen and Emily know?” she rasped, her throat dry. “And Aunt Anne?” She took a gulp of the brandy, and it burned all the way down.
“Anne has always known. Do you think I would keep something like that from her? When you were eleven, and fixing to come out here for Christmas a few weeks before the accident, she wanted us to tell you then. Your mom agreed, but your dad was dead against it.”
“They had a fight in the car,” Eve said, remembering. “They went out somewhere, and even before they left, they were fighting. That was the night they went off the road. Because they were fighting about me.” Her voice dropped as she spiraled down the tunnel of time to a place she thought she’d blocked out. The flashing lights outside the house. Nana running to stop the policeman on the sidewalk. The funeral, with two closed caskets that she to this day had a difficult time believing contained her parents’ bodies. They’d never let her see them. It wasn’t fitting, Nana had insisted.
Maybe not, but she’d never been able to say goodbye, either. Hadn’t been able to control the situation. Hadn’t been able to give vent to the depths of emotion she’d been feeling. Going deep into emotion hurt too much. She couldn’t bear it then.
Things have changed now, haven’t they? Because of Mitch.
“We can’t know that,” Roy said heavily. “Believe me, I’ve had my share of regrets over this. But it seemed kinder to let things go on as they were. The kids think of you as their cousin, not their half sister. That will change now, of course. And I’ll be asking their forgiveness, too.”
“I have close family.” She marveled that she was only now realizing it. “If you want to acknowledge that.”
His face crumpled. “Acknowledge? I’m begging your forgiveness, Eve. For being such a coward. For letting Gibson clean up my mistake. For what it’s worth, he adored your mother, even while Loreen and I were dating. I think he would have done what he did a hundred times rather than let her face those uptight society biddies who would have looked down their noses at her.”
“She loved him, too,” Eve said softly. “It was the right thing to do, their getting married. I had a great childhood. And maybe it prepared me for what I do for a living now.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Anne will be glad, too. She’s been absolutely beside herself, hardly knowing whether to blame me or comfort me. Adele called, you know. That’s why I got here so early. I don’t read that particular paper, so when she told me what that reporter had written, I broke a couple of speed limits getting over here.”
“I have a few things I’d like to say to that woman,” Eve said grimly.
“Don’t be too hard on her. She was absolutely right. She’s been nagging me for thirty years, just the way she used to nag us to brush our teeth and quit talking after she turned out the lights.”
“It was none of her business.”
“Maybe not, but you’d have a hard time telling her that. It’s the way families are around here. My mom-your grandmother-had to go out to work, you know. She couldn’t be home much for us, so Adele stepped in to help. She became a kind of second mother. A confidante, in many ways. Even for Loreen.”
“I’m sure Grandmother did what she had to, to keep body and soul together.” She couldn’t blame a woman for that.
He nodded. “That’s in the past. I’m most concerned about the present. Are you going to be all right?”
Unexpectedly, her throat closed up, and she nodded. “I think so. This is a
lot to take in.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “It might be a while before I can call you Dad instead of Uncle Roy.”
Tears trembled at the corners of his eyes. “I’ll do my best to earn that honor,” he said gruffly.
And then he pulled her into his arms.
19
MITCH LEANED BACK in his chair-Row 1, Seat 8, reserved for special guests-and studied the raucous crowd around him in the studio as they waited for “All About Eve” to begin. With the story of her parentage out, the wires were burning up and the media were having a field day. There had even been an invitation this morning to appear on Letterman on Monday night-no doubt a last-ditch effort by Chad Everard to convince her to come over to the dark side. Mitch had the feeling it might backfire, though, and do nothing but give Just Between Us a nice boost in the ratings.
He also hoped she’d accept, so he could go with her and show her the sights of New York before he called a Realtor and put his condo up for sale.
Because he’d discovered that mundane things like nailing down a job worked a lot differently here in the South. Armed with nothing but a phone number and Eve’s belief in him, he’d decided to face reality head-on, knowing that to get what you wanted out of life, you had to get out there and ask for it. The way she had. And while Eve was doing her prep work this morning, he’d gone for the most unusual job interview he’d ever had. When she wrapped today’s show, they were definitely going to celebrate. And maybe he’d even come through on his promise and make use of her desk. So far, today was turning into a very good day to try things for the first time.
Applause broke out all around him, and there she was. She took her seat alone at the front of the stage, a single spotlight beaming down on her.
God, she looked good. His heart turned over.
“Good afternoon, Atlanta,” she said. “I’m Eve Best, and I’d like to keep this just between us.”
The audience roared, and she made jokes with the people in the front row until the noise died down. Then she looked directly into the camera, which was positioned above the audience so that she looked directly at them, too. Mitch sat mesmerized by the emotion in her wide green eyes.
“Today I’d like to do something different with our town-hall meeting. Y’all know what I want to talk about. My family. You guys have been with me through thick and thin. If anyone is going to get me through this, it’s my friends, and I count y’all among them.”
Shouts of approval and another burst of applause.
“So, that said, lemme have it, Atlanta. What do you want to know about what you’ve been reading in the papers and seeing on TV?”
Two production assistants roamed the audience with wireless microphones, picking people at random. The camera zoomed in on the first volunteer, a heavyset woman with apple-red cheeks.
“First of all, Eve,” she said, her voice trembling with nervousness, “is it really true or a bunch of made-up gossip aimed at selling papers?”
Over the laughter, Eve said, “It’s true. My biological father is Roy Best. He and my mother dated before he went away to college. He was young, only eighteen, and when you’re eighteen, maybe you don’t make the kinds of decisions that last well over a lifetime. He chose to leave when my mother told him she was pregnant.”
“Bastard!” someone yelled.
“Not to my knowledge,” Eve said calmly. “But you can ask my grandmother. She’s sitting right over here.”
The camera zoomed in on Charlotte Best, who was sitting a few seats down from Mitch and whose cheekbones were a force to be reckoned with. Mitch grinned as she quartered the studio, located the guy who’d yelled and pinned him with a glare.
“Sorry, ma’am,” the guy said, subsiding into his seat.
“But meanwhile,” Eve went on, “the man I’ll always think of as Dad had been carrying a torch for my mom for years. Since grade school, I think. Anyway, she married him instead and gave me the happiest childhood a kid could ask for. Except for the accident that took them away from me, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
You go, love. Mitch’s heart swelled with emotion at her bravery. He knew what it had taken for her to choose dealing with this head-on instead of hiding behind her legal team and maintaining the chilly, private silence that Charlotte would have preferred. That would only have inflamed the media into a frenzy. This way, she controlled people’s impression of her, and the media would have to take her leftovers.
She was brave. She was brilliant.
She was the best thing that had ever happened to him.
The PA handed the microphone to a middle-aged woman with a couple of kids sitting on either side. “Have you been able to forgive your uncle for what he did to your mom?”
Ouch. Mitch winced for Eve’s sake, but her expression only softened.
“The same afternoon the story came out, my father came to my office to tell me everything. Now I feel I know him better than ever-and I love him more than ever, too. It takes a brave man to admit he made a mistake.” She paused. “The mistake I mean was that he didn’t tell me years ago. As for him leaving my mom, I don’t see that as a mistake. Not now. Not when it turned out that Gibson and Loreen were actually right for one another.”
They cut to commercial then, and Mitch dragged in a deep breath. Funny how he’d been so tense, as though he’d been afraid her audience would draw and quarter her over what could have been a scandal.
But she was carrying it off so well. She knew her viewers. The reason they tuned in was because she was honest, spontaneous and had the kind of positive energy that you’d want in a best friend. That’s what she was doing. Treating her viewers like her friends. Maybe that resulted in the necessity for a few restraining orders, but on the whole its biggest result was a devoted following who tuned in day after day.
CWB had been insane to think of taking her out of this environment. To disregard the slow-growth plan. Mitch had no doubt they’d come to regret it, especially if Eve wound up with another network.
The monitors flickered and they were back. Mitch focused on Eve with as much attention as Zach, who was up there behind him operating the crane.
This time, a guy in his twenties had the microphone. “So, is it true that you’ve been offered a spot on a national network if you, like, move to L.A.?”
“It’s true,” Eve said. “And it’s New York, not L.A. I’m not going.” She spread her hands as the audience erupted with cheers. “How could I go without taking y’all with me?”
Laughter. Mitch saw that the guy hadn’t relinquished the mike. “So that exec guy you were dating, is he out of the picture? Are you available?”
Eve threw back her head and laughed, exposing her lovely throat. Mitch sat up in his chair and squelched the urge to climb over there and choke the guy.
“Define available,” she teased. “Wouldn’t you say it takes a lot of man to play second fiddle to all of you?”
A woman in a pink dress wrestled the microphone out of the young man’s hand and spoke into it breathlessly. “I saw a picture of him-that man you were dating. If you’ve turned him loose, could you send him my way, please?”
The audience cracked up, and so did Eve. When she could speak, she said, “He’s fine, isn’t he?” She glanced at him, her face alive with laughter. “Mitch, stand up and take a bow.” He got up and waved at the woman in pink, and saw his own face appear on the monitor. “Folks, this is Mitchell Hayes, and he used to work for one of the networks bidding on the show.”
“Mitchell! Mitchell!” The audience began to chant. “Mitchell!”
Eve beckoned with one hand. “Come on up,” she mouthed.
He should have expected this. After all the DVD footage he’d watched, he should have known that anything might happen at one of these town-hall shows.
A PA ran out with a stool and a third wireless microphone, and he made himself comfortable next to Eve.
“How d
o you feel about the news, Mitchell?” With the spotlight in his eyes, he couldn’t see much, but the monitor off to the left showed a guy in a suit. “Does it make you feel weird that the woman you’re seeing is illegitimate?”
Wow. He took that one right in the solar plexus and drew in a breath.
“Legally, I don’t think she is. But it’s irrelevant to me.” He turned and gave the rest of his answer to Eve. “The woman I see is talented, beautiful and has a family who adores and protects her. I’m not sure what she sees in me, but I’m crazy in love with her.”
Under lashes heavy with stage makeup, Eve’s eyes widened.
“Atlanta, you’re lucky to have her,” he went on. “And so am I.”
Huge applause, and a few wolf whistles.
“Are you still with the network?” the next person wanted to know. He barely heard the question. He was too busy watching that beautiful face, those eyes that were shiny with tears and filling with everything she wanted to say and couldn’t. Not out here in public, with cameras and people and half of the South listening in.
Okay, so it hadn’t been fair to out them so completely, in front of all those thousands of viewers. And yet, it had seemed absolutely the right thing to do.
Something that would only happen on Just Between Us.
The volunteer repeated his question, and Mitch finally dragged his gaze from Eve’s face. “No, I’m not,” he said. “I’m happy to say that I’m the new director of business development for the Ashmere Trust.” Beside him, Eve gasped, and he turned. He couldn’t get enough of looking at her. “In fact, we’re throwing a benefit next Saturday night at Mirabel, which you may or may not know is the plantation that Eve’s family owned up until the sixties.” He returned his gaze to the cameras. “I’d like to invite all of you to join us in support of a new program in Atlanta. It’s called Music on the Street.”
