by Lisa Suzanne
“Having a baby will make you completely reprioritize, and to be honest, I don’t have the energy to be mad at you. You offered an apology when you gave me those pumpkins,” she says, referring to the two poker chips I gave her that were worth a thousand bucks apiece, “and you’ve apologized on numerous occasions since then. It’s been years now, Brian. I loved you then, but Mark was always the one who held my heart. And I love you now because you’re my brother-in-law.”
“I loved you then, too,” I say softly. I didn’t recognize it at the time and I don’t count her among the women I’ve loved because I had the wrong intentions the whole time. I fell for her along the way, but I was using her when it happened. It was never something that could’ve lasted beyond the expiration date stamped on our relationship.
She presses her lips together. “I know you did,” she says. The microwave beeps, and she takes her food out. She lifts the lid, and steam rises up from some pasta dish that looks incredible. “I’d offer you some, but I don’t want to share.”
I laugh louder than I should. “You enjoy. I’m actually going for a drive and I’ll grab something while I’m out.”
She nods and shoves a forkful of noodles into her mouth. “Enjoy,” she says around her food, and I chuckle as I head to the guestroom to put my bag away.
When I get behind the wheel of my brother’s car, I’m not sure where to go. I’ve spent some time here in California, but I don’t know the area all that well. I drive until I find a diner, and I settle into a corner booth. I can’t help when I pull out my phone and search Vivian Davenport. I come easily across an address in Tarzana.
It’s a thirty-eight minute drive from where I sit.
In thirty-eight minutes, I could be knocking on her door.
I barely touch the baked chicken dish and vegetables in front of me as I think about what to do. I want to see her. I want to talk to her. I want her to tell me she made a mistake and she chooses me.
I want to meet Trent and tell him I’ll fight him for her.
But I can’t. It wouldn’t just be emotional suicide. It might kill her already weakened marriage, too, and I think I’ve fucked enough things up for the time being.
In the end, even though my heart is telling me to go to her, I listen to my brain for a change.
chapter eight
I squint as I try to make out the time on my bright phone in the darkness of the room. My eyes finally adjust, and my clock tells me it’s three-twelve. It takes me a minute to place the sound that woke me.
I was in the middle of one of those dreams that felt so realistic I thought it was actually happening. I’d opened the front door of Mark’s Malibu home and Vivian stood there. She came for me. She left her husband and wanted to be with me.
Except a loud noise woke me before we could seal our commitment with a kiss.
When I got home last night, Reese had disappeared and I guess the baby was sleeping. I worked for a bit in Mark’s office, printing the paperwork HR sent me and filling it out. I haven’t even seen Ashton since I arrived last evening.
I strain to listen, and I’m pretty sure it’s Mark’s heavier footsteps I hear, not his wife’s lighter ones.
The crying quiets after a few minutes, and then I hear a hushed lullaby outside my bedroom door. Mark must be taking Ashton on the house tour as he sings to her. The sounds fade as he moves to another part of the house, and I manage to fall back asleep until the crying starts all over again.
Maybe staying here isn’t the best idea.
It’s temporary, I remind myself. Just until I get settled into Ashmark—just until I get my first paycheck or sell my Vegas house so I have a little money in the bank for rent.
It’s not even five yet and I’m wide awake. I decide to head out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee before my shower, and I find my brother there. He’s stretching in front of the patio doors like he’s about to head out for a run.
“Want to join me?” he asks.
I glance beyond him at the gray of morning before the sun comes up. A run near the ocean might just be the thing I need. “Sure.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
I run back to my room and change into running clothes and shoes, and then I find my brother out on his patio as he waits for me.
“Do you run every morning?” I ask.
“Not every.” He shoots me a wry smile as he stands. “Mostly just when I can’t sleep.”
“You’re having trouble sleeping?”
“I’ve got an alarm clock set for every three hours.”
I furrow my brows. “Why?”
“It’s a joke. The baby wakes up every few hours to eat.” He gives me a look like I’m stupid for not getting the joke.
“Right,” I say, and I realize I know literally nothing about babies. Mark didn’t, either, but I guess sometimes you have to be in the situation before you’re ready to learn. Something clicks in my mind just then, but I’m not exactly sure what.
I follow my brother down to the sand and we start a slow pace. The two of us have been competitive our entire lives, and without even realizing I’m doing it, I start to pick up speed. He follows and goes just slightly faster than me, and I start to pump my legs a little harder. Soon we’re practically sprinting down the beach as we each try to outdo the other. My lungs burn as my breathing increases, but I’ll get used to it. I always feel this way when I first start, but if I can power through the uncomfortable feeling for a few minutes, I’ll be fine.
Only that’s not what happens.
My legs aren’t used to running on the uneven surface of sand. My legs are used to a treadmill and the occasional paved trail. I glance over and notice Mark’s in the right part of the wet sand where he has basically a flat surface to run on, but I’m running at an angle. It isn’t long before I stumble on the softer, dryer sand to my left and tumble down to the ground.
Apart from my pride, I don’t hurt myself, thank God. Mark slows and turns around to check me.
“You okay?”
As I sit in some combination of wet and dry sand, chest heaving from my sprinting race against my brother, exhaustion combines with a heavy heart and all the losses that keep piling up on me.
I was bound to fall eventually with all the weight I’ve been carrying on my shoulders.
I slowly shake my head as I look out over the water. Somewhere Vivian wishes she was here, too, looking out over the water. I just don’t know who she imagines beside her in those dreams. Me? Or her husband?
“You’re not okay?” Mark asks. He’s standing beside me, then he’s kneeling, then he’s sitting down before I answer.
“No. I’m not. I’ve lost...” I pause. I’ve lost Vivian. I’ve lost my company. I’ve lost my friends. I’m giving up my home and moving in with my brother and his wife and their baby who cries all through the night. My life as I knew it even as far back as three days ago has turned completely upside down. “Everything,” I finally finish. I speak the word as I stare out at the water rhythmically lapping against the shore. The sun has started to come up, casting orange rays across everything.
The water laps the shore. The sun rises and sets. These are the dependable things that happen no matter what sort of shit hand the universe has dealt.
I thought the things I lost were dependable parts of my life, too. It was only in having everything ripped out from under me that I learned how very wrong I was.
I half expect the water to stop rushing into the shoreline with that thought, but it doesn’t. Unlike the other parts of my life, it stays dependable.
“I’m still here,” my brother says softly. “And Reese is, too.”
I finally tear my eyes away from the water to glance at him. “I don’t deserve that.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance.” He says it with such conviction I’m inclined to believe him.
Everyone deserves a second chance. My brother is giving me a chance I don’t deserve. Do I owe the same to Vivian?
“
Now get your ass up so we can run back home and get ready for work.” He stands up and brushes the sand from his shorts. “Race you there!” He takes off in the sand, and I can’t help my laugh.
I think this is one competition I’m just going to let him win.
* * *
I don’t have my own office, but I do have a sweet corner cubicle by the window that overlooks downtown Los Angeles. I’ve always loved this city, but I never imagined I’d be calling it home. For the time being, at least, it is. It’s mid-afternoon by the time I’m done with my HR paperwork and I learn all the details of my new position.
I’m basically my own department, a liaison between IT and marketing. My direct boss is my brother, though in our meeting this morning, he mentioned he’d be largely hands-off as he steps into the role of father and gets ready for Vail’s new album and upcoming tour.
After lunch, I set to work researching the company website, making a list of questions for the head of IT and setting up some basic automation that will give me baseline data. I schedule a meeting with the marketing department for tomorrow to see what sorts of things they need from me, and by the time Mark comes to see if I want a ride home, I’m shocked it’s already five and our work day is done.
I feel back in my element already. I’m not the owner of the company, and a little part of me likes working for someone else. I never thought I’d see the day. I always wanted to work only for myself and never liked having someone tell me what to do...but the level of responsibility here is sort of a relief. It’s nice knowing the entire company’s welfare doesn’t sit on my shoulders. It’s less stressful without the pressure of making sure ends meet and bills are paid.
I miss FDB something fierce already, but I’m starting to see that when one door closes, maybe another opens.
I ride home with Mark, and when we get there, Reese is just emerging from the master bedroom with a baby in her arms.
“Say hi to Daddy and Uncle Brian,” she coos.
Mark walks over and kisses his wife then kisses his baby’s forehead.
“You hungry?” Reese asks him.
He nods and glances at me, and I nod, too.
“We’ve got that casserole Vinny dropped off,” she says, referring to Mark’s security guard. “I can heat that up.”
“Vinny cooks?” I ask.
Reese laughs. “No, but his mom does. And she makes a mean chicken and rice casserole.”
“Can I do anything?” Mark asks.
“Here, take this,” she says, handing the baby off to him.
“Gladly,” he says, and I watch as they exchange the baby from mom to dad like they’ve been doing it for years rather than days.
Mark walks over to me. “Want to hold her?”
“You just got her. I can wait.” I lean down and breathe in her fresh scent. “Hi baby Ashton.” I feel like an idiot talking to a baby.
“That’s your uncle,” Mark says. “Can you say uncle?”
“When will she start talking?” I ask.
“She might start saying words as early as six months, but actual phrases don’t come until closer to two years,” Reese says as she pulls the foil wrap off a casserole dish. She moves to the oven and punches in some numbers.
“What do you think she’s thinking about?” I ask as I watch her eyes dart from her dad to me.
“Probably how goofy looking her uncle is,” Mark deadpans, and I chuckle. He sniffs the air. “Time for a diaper. I’ll be back.”
I pull out one of the stools by the counter and watch Reese put the casserole into the oven. She turns to face me. “How was work?”
I nod and force a smile. “Good. I have the best cubicle in the entire office.”
She shakes her head and rolls her twinkling eyes with a laugh. “I told Mark to give you one in the middle. He can’t set the bar so high for his new hires.”
I chuckle.
“How are you really doing, Brian?” she asks softly.
I clear my throat. “How much do you know?”
She presses her lips together. “Mark was vague. Said you had a falling out with Becker and Jason. Jill filled me in on some of the details but I only got her side of things.”
Jill. Right. Reese’s best friend, the woman who’s married to the man who just broke business ties with me and ended a friendship spanning nearly three decades.
I suddenly feel a rush of appreciation for both my brother and the woman he married. Who knew this was where I’d end up after everything I did to the two of them? She’s standing here making conversation with me, withholding judgment and being a shoulder for me to lean on, when she’s perhaps the last person I’d expect it from.
I don’t mention any of that. Instead, the words that fall out of my mouth tell me where my priorities actually lie. “Did anybody mention Vivian in any of it?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “The one Mark sent to fix finances?”
I nod.
“What about her?”
I debate how much to tell her. She’s kind of my ex, but she’s also my sister-in-law. I’m surprised Mark didn’t tell her the finer details of what went down. “I fell in love with her and then discovered she’s married.”
“Oh,” she says, then she pauses before she adds, “I’m sorry,” as an afterthought.
“She didn’t tell me until it was too late.”
She winces. “What does that mean?”
I finger the cold quartz countertop. “We, uh, slept together.”
“And you didn’t know she was married?”
I shake my head, my eyes still down on the counter. I expect her to ask how I didn’t know. It should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? Shouldn’t I have known enough about her to know she was married before I fell in love with her? What I don’t expect is for her to say what she does say.
“That’s on her, not you.”
I glance up at her with surprise that she’d be in my corner on this one.
“You may have done some really messed up stuff, but in the short time you’ve been here, I’ve seen a different Brian. I’ve always known you as someone who acted without remorse, but I see it. It’s in your eyes. In the way you walk into a room like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. It’s in the way you apologized to Mark and then to me. You’re a different Brian, and I don’t think it’s just because of what went down with FDB.”
“It’s not,” I admit. “I hate what happened with my friends. I hate that my only motivation for being honest with them was so Vivian would see me as a stand-up kind of guy. But she was lying to me the whole time.”
“Did you ever ask her if she was married?” Reese asks.
I shake my head.
“Then she wasn’t lying to you. She may have had her reasons for why it never came up.”
I shrug. “I guess. It doesn’t matter, though. The end result’s the same.”
“How did you find out?”
“She told me in the morning glow after we were together.” I say the words with bitter sarcasm that Reese catches.
“Just blurted it right out?”
“Basically. Said we shouldn’t have done that, and when I asked why, she said because she’s married. Said she loved both of us and wasn’t sure if she was going to leave him. Then I kicked her out.”
“Oh, Brian,” Reese says, a hand flying to her chest like it hurts her to hear what I did.
“What?” I spit out.
She shakes her head. “How do you feel now?”
“Honestly?” I duck my head down as I feel her gaze on me. “I feel like I really fucked everything up.”
“Then go get her,” she says softly.
I’m frankly shocked at her words of advice.
“She’s married, Reese. How would you like it if someone came after your husband that way?”
“I’d cut a bitch.”
I laugh. “Exactly. I may not have the strongest ethics in the world, but I have to draw the line at cheating. It’s too ingrained in
my history to ignore it.”
She nods sagely. She knows what happened with Kendra. I’m sure she doesn’t see what she and my brother did behind my back as cheating since I was the one using her, but to me, it still counts. Those scars are carved into the history of my heart.
“I get that, Brian, and I’d never, ever condone someone going after someone who’s married. But one key thing you just said to me stands out.”
“What’s that?”
“You said she wasn’t sure if she’s going to leave him. That means you’ve got a horse in this race. If she’s not sure, then she’s not happy. If she slept with you, then she’s not happy.”
“But you just said you’d cut a bitch if someone tried to step into your marriage the way I’m stepping into Vivian’s,” I point out.
“It wouldn’t matter if someone went for Mark. Crazy bitches want him all the time, and you know what? He’s not interested. He’d kick every single one of them to the curb because he loves me. He wants to be with me. He’d never say he’s not sure if he’s going to leave me because the thought would never enter his mind to leave me. I’m one hundred percent confident in that.”
I blow out a breath.
“What do you love about her?” she asks.
I glance up at her, and her eyes are twinkling again. I can see how much she wants this to work out for me, and a rush of gratitude darts through me. I focus my gaze out the kitchen window and onto the beach. “She’s so goddamn smart.”
Reese laughs and shakes her head. “I for sure expected something physical first. Tits? Ass? Definitely not her brains.”
I chuckle. “To be fair, she’s got a great rack and the perfect ass. Her eyes are the color of the ocean, and she’s got dark hair that flutters around her like a halo. When we first met, she was all professional and buttoned up and exactly the opposite of anyone I’d ever go for, and maybe that’s what made me fall. She didn’t like me, and I didn’t like her, and suddenly we were pretending to be together and we were forced to work in the same space day in and day out. We went to Miami on business and when I saw her let her hair down and be herself, that’s when I realized the hate I felt for her wasn’t hate at all.”
