At the Heart of It

by Tawna Fenske

  “Victims?”

  “Contestants—subjects—what are we calling the people whose relationships we’re supposed to fix?”

  “Oh—I’m not sure yet. Viv wants to call them patients, but the network guys think that’s too clinical.”

  “It sounds like we’re treating them for venereal disease.”

  Kate laughed. “Exactly. I think for now it’s safe to say couples. And yes, casting has about four dozen of them pre-screened and ready to go in case we do get picked up.”

  Jonah leaned back against the sofa and took another sip of beer. His glass was almost empty, but he didn’t want to leave this spot, this conversation, to get up and grab a refill.

  “What do you think the odds are?” he asked.

  “That the network will pick us up?”

  Jonah nodded, and Kate tipped her head to the side, considering. “Above average,” she said. “Obviously we don’t even have a pilot yet, but I can see it in my head.”

  “And how is it?”

  She grinned. “Very good. Excellent. I have a pretty nice track record.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Jonah glanced down at his glass, not sure he was telling her the truth. Did he want the show to get picked up? He thought so, but his reasons for it had nothing to do with helping troubled couples. They were selfish reasons. Or maybe selfish wasn’t the right word. He was doing it for Jossy, but wasn’t that still selfish?

  Or maybe he was trying to make up for the selfishness in the first place. That seemed like a better story.

  “Can I ask you something?” Kate said.

  Jonah looked up. “Fire away.”

  “Why did you say yes? If it wasn’t my kissing skills, I mean?”

  She gave him a small smile, but there was something serious in her eyes. Something that told him she knew there was more to his story than he’d let on so far.

  Jonah hesitated. “I want to help my sister.”

  “Ah. That makes sense.” Understanding flashed in her eyes. “The one with the animal shelter?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s noble of you.”

  He thought about dispelling that idea. Just opening his mouth and letting the whole story come spilling out. But he bit back the words and gave a small shrug. “Not really. It’s family. You help each other out when you’re family.”

  “Your father was killed in the line of duty?”

  He must have looked alarmed, because Kate reached out and touched his arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get too personal. Viv mentioned it in that first book. I wondered if maybe that had something to do with why you’re protective of your sister.”

  Jonah nodded and studied her face. There was nothing there to suggest she knew the rest of the story. Even so, he wondered. Maybe Viv had said something.

  But no. Kate’s expression wasn’t calculating. It wasn’t pitying. It was sincere. That much he could tell.

  She lifted her glass and drained the last few drops of pale-orange liquid. Then she rested the glass on her knee. “Just be careful, Jonah. You don’t want to sell your soul to be someone else’s savior.”

  Something in those words was familiar. He thumbed fast through the Rolodex in his brain, trying to place them.

  “Viv wrote that,” Kate said, reading his mind. “It’s a line from But Not Broken. I think it was in chapter twelve or thirteen, right after she leaves the abusive relationship.”

  “Right, of course.” His gut churned. “I remember now.”

  Kate looked down at her glass. “I should probably go.”

  She stood up before he could say anything else, and Jonah wondered what she’d seen in his face just then. Had something tipped her off that her words had touched a nerve? Or had he kept his expression as impassive as he’d hoped to?

  He didn’t have time to ask. She’d already carried her glass to the kitchen. He could hear her rinsing it out in the sink. Then she walked back into the living room and stood behind the sofa, stroking a hand down Marilyn’s back.

  “I’m really happy to be working with you, Jonah,” she said. “Even if we got sort of a weird start.”

  “I’m happy to be working with you, too.” That was true, even if he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about the show itself.

  “I think this series is going to touch a lot of people.”

  He nodded, ignoring the voices in his head that told him the only thing he really wanted at the moment was to touch her. That wasn’t going to happen. Her body language was making that perfectly clear, even if they hadn’t already agreed there would be no more kissing.

  Jonah set his empty glass down and stood up. “I’m glad you came by. I definitely feel better about the show. About what happens next.”

  Kate began walking toward the door, and Jonah fell into step beside her while something inside him screamed at her not to go. At the threshold of the door, she turned and looked at him.

  “You think you’ll feel ready to start shooting in a couple days?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Good. Well, then.” She took a deep breath, and Jonah waited for her to say something else. To tell him she felt the same way he did, even though he had no idea how either of them would put that into words.

  “Good night, Jonah.”

  “Good night.”

  There was an air of finality in the word. An echo of goodbye, even though they’d be working together. Even though they’d be seeing each other every day for the rest of the foreseeable future.

  But they wouldn’t be kissing again. They’d both made that clear.

  “See you Wednesday at ten,” she said. “At Viv’s place.”

  “Viv’s place,” he repeated as a tight ball formed in his chest.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  When Jonah pulled into Viv’s driveway for the first day of filming, he was right on time. It went against his inner caveman’s desire to piss her off by showing up late, which must mean he was maturing. That he was meeting his goal of being his own man instead of basing his actions around Viv’s expectations.

  The fact that you’re even thinking like this means you’ve got a long way to go.

  Jonah sighed as he made his way up the walk. He didn’t know why being around her made him feel like a surly teenager. She’d been nothing but cordial. Well, cordial with a side of nagging bossiness, judging from the eight billion text messages she’d sent over the past few days.

  “Hello, Jonah,” his ex-wife said as she greeted him at the door wearing black leggings and some sort of flowy white shirt. Her feet were bare, of course, and her smile was guarded but genuine. That was something. She’d also called him Jonah instead of Joe, which he appreciated.

  “Hey, there.” He stepped over the threshold as she waved him inside and then shut the door behind him. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I needed a little time to decompress.”

  There. That was good. An apology. And he meant it, too, even if it wasn’t the whole story.

  He couldn’t see her face as she led the way to the parlor, but her voice seemed calm and casual. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “We have a little time to get on the same page before the shooting begins this afternoon.”

  “Is the crew here yet?”

  “The camera guys are doing something in my study—setting up lights and checking the sound. I forget what they called it.”

  “And what about—” He started to say her name but stopped himself, not wanting to sound too eager. “What about the studio people?”

  Viv turned in the doorway of the parlor and gave him a thoughtful look. Jonah ordered himself not to blink, not to let his eyes show even the faintest flicker of interest.

  “Kate and Amy will be here in about thirty minutes,” Viv said. “They had some last-minute emergency meeting with the casting department. Something about a disagreement with the network people over which patients we should select for the pilot.”

  He couldn’t help noticing she’d used the wo
rd patients, despite Kate’s mention that the network had already nixed the word. He also noticed a pang of disappointment in his chest at the news Kate wasn’t already here.

  It has nothing to do with wanting to see Kate, he assured himself. Just the annoyance of having to make conversation alone with Viv for half an hour.

  He looked away from Viv and surveyed the room, admiring the black-and-white color scheme with splashes of color here and there. An orange chair, a cobalt vase, a grass-green throw rug at the threshold of the door that led to the other end of the hall.

  “I like what you’ve done with this place,” he said. “It looks like you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Viv beamed, and Jonah wondered if she’d taken it as a commentary on her physical appearance. The space was beautiful, of course, though that’s not how he’d meant it. It was also tidy, expensive, and set up to be the perfect TV backdrop.

  But there was no point in saying any of that, so Jonah shoved his hands in his pockets and waited.

  “Can I get you something to drink? Herbal tea or some lemon water?”

  “Any chance you have a pot of coffee?”

  “I gave up coffee almost a year ago,” she said with a breezy wave of one hand. “Too many toxins.”

  “Toxins are delicious.”

  “Right.” Viv frowned. “I suppose I can check to see if there’s some stashed in the pantry somewhere.”

  “That’s okay. I’m good.” He’d had plenty of coffee already—he just wanted something to do with his hands.

  He went back to surveying the room. Probably ought to sit down and get comfortable. He started to move toward the chair he’d sat in the last time he’d been here, then stopped. Would she read something into the notion that he had a favorite chair at her place? He moved toward the sofa instead. Halfway to sitting, he wondered if he should have picked the loveseat instead. Would Viv notice that he’d opted to plant his butt where Kate had sat before?

  Way to overthink things, Jonah. You’re turning into Kate.

  He grunted and sat down on the sofa, annoyed with himself. This was why he hated spending time with Viv. Every move was up for analysis. He could pass gas and spend the next two hours knowing she was interpreting it as a subconscious rejection of social norms and Viv’s own hospitality. Or maybe a reflection on his upbringing or dietary choices.

  The possibilities were endless.

  Viv folded herself into the club chair he’d chosen last time, and poured two glasses of water. Jonah reached out and grabbed two coasters, setting one in front of each of them. Good, this was good. They were getting along nicely.

  Viv set a glass of water in front of him, then took a sip from her own. She studied him over the rim, and Jonah fought the urge to look away.

  “I’m actually glad we have a few minutes alone, Jonah.”

  “Oh?”

  “Right.” Viv set her glass down. “I know things were a little tense at the meeting, but I want you to know how grateful I am that you chose to do the show. You didn’t have to, of course.”

  He shrugged. “It’s fine.” He started to add some offhanded quip about the money being good, but stopped himself. Hadn’t Kate said the budget numbers were confidential? He wondered what Viv’s agreement was with the network. The numbers he’d seen had only reflected his own salary. How much more were they paying Viv? She was the big draw, while he was the last-minute addition.

  He hoped she was being paid well. Okay, most of him hoped so. This was her gig, after all. He was just the comic relief. Then again, he did have experience. He didn’t have the psychology degree, but he hoped he’d have a chance to add more than dick jokes to the lineup for the show.

  Viv cleared her throat. “I know you’re a little camera shy—”

  “I’m not camera shy,” he interrupted. “Just not a fan of that kind of permanency. Something that lives on forever on the Internet or TV reruns.”

  “That’s right.” Viv pressed her lips together and gave a serene little smile. “Commitment was never really your forte.”

  Something flared in his chest. “Seriously? You’re the one who wanted the divorce.”

  “Honestly, Jonah. If I hadn’t proposed to you—”

  “Like a modern, empowered woman taking charge of her own life,” he snapped. “You wrote a whole chapter about it in your book.”

  Viv pressed her lips together. “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me you wanted to get married.”

  “I can look you in the eye and tell you I didn’t want to get divorced,” he shot back. “That was your idea, babe.”

  “Based on the amount of emotional neglect and—”

  “Wait a minute.” Jonah shook his head as a realization dawned. “Are you baiting me?”

  Viv blinked. “What do you mean?” Her expression was one of calculated innocence, but Jonah knew better. He’d seen that look before.

  “You’re trying to rile me up,” he said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She glanced down at her water glass, spinning it around in her hand.

  “Pissing me off on purpose so I’ll be ready for the camera,” he said. “The emotional equivalent of a fluffer on a porn set.”

  She laughed and did her breezy hand wave again, dismissing the accusation and apparently, the whole conversation. God, she was good. She had her Average Joe sound bite and the cameras weren’t even rolling yet.

  “Anyway, I do hope you’ll be able to act natural once the cameras are rolling,” she said. “Some people aren’t comfortable around them.”

  Jonah only half heard her, still stuck on what she’d said about commitment and how he hadn’t wanted to get married. Was that true?

  “I adopted a cat,” he blurted, then felt like an idiot.

  Viv stopped laughing and looked intrigued. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Her name’s Marilyn. Marilyn of the Judgmental Eyebrows.”

  “That sounds—interesting.”

  “She came from Jossy’s rescue center.”

  Viv’s expression softened into one Jossy once dubbed “serene healer,” which was always said with a snide tone. She’d never said it to Viv’s face, and Jonah had always felt a little bad using the phrase himself.

  “How is Josslyn doing?” Viv asked as she touched a hand to her chest.

  “She’s fine. Sends her regards.”

  Not entirely true, unless “regards” could be expressed with a middle finger. But sharing that would be unhelpful, so Jonah picked up his glass of water and took a sip.

  His brain flashed back to a conversation with his sister not long after he and Viv had gotten married.

  “I don’t like how she treats people,” Jossy had complained when he’d demanded to know why his sister had turned down every dinner invitation for the last six months.

  “She’s a therapist,” Jonah had tried to point out, feeling defensive of his new wife. “She treats people with kindness and compassion, and yeah—sometimes a little tough love.”

  “You forgot the condescension,” Jossy had muttered. “Which is odd, since she reserves an extra dose of it for you.”

  Jonah set his water glass down harder than he meant to, annoyed by the memory. Maybe his sister had had a point. Was that any reason to feel irritated now? He was clear of Viv, divorced and free as a bird, removed from the scene of his own discontent.

  Okay, so not entirely. How would Jossy feel if she knew the reason he’d agreed to do this stupid TV show? That his whole plan was to help her, his baby sister, the one he should have helped a long time ago?

  She’d be mad as hell.

  “I have to say, I’m a little surprised you agreed so quickly,” Viv said, jarring Jonah back to the conversation. “Though I suppose Kate’s a pretty talented persuader.”

  She watched his face and waited, and Jonah recognized the question in her eyes. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to answer it.

  “She said you told her I’d be at Alki Park the other day,” h
e said, not bothering to mention the other two times he’d seen Kate alone. “That you sent her there to talk to me.”

  “I wouldn’t say I sent her there, exactly.” Viv sipped her own water. “I did suggest to her that you might be more open to persuasion from someone besides me.” She smiled and leaned forward just a little. “I also might have suggested she undo a button or two on her blouse.”

  Jonah gripped his water glass tighter. “She wasn’t wearing a blouse with buttons.”

  “Oh, so you noticed?”

  Jonah wanted to hurl his glass at the wall, but he settled for draining the contents and refilling it. Viv’s, too, since he was a goddamn gentleman. He sat back on the sofa and wondered how much longer he had to make conversation.

  “Did I tell you how Kate persuaded me to do the show?” Viv asked.

  “Did it involve undoing buttons? Because I’ve gotta say, I think girl-on-girl stuff would resonate well with cable TV viewers.”

  Viv ignored him and slid her silky ponytail from one shoulder to the other, then tucked her bare feet up onto the chair.

  “She wrote me the most amazing fan letter,” Viv said. “Truly, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Jonah thought of the passion in Kate’s eyes when she’d told him about the concept for the show. About the heartfelt explanations she’d given over pizza at the Cat Café. “I can see that,” he said.

  “She didn’t come right out with her request at first,” Viv said. “But she explained her job and asked if she could fly me out to LA for an all-expenses-paid trip. Said she had something she wanted to talk to me about. And get this—the hotel where she set me up was the same one I talked about in But Not Broken. The scene where I flew out and met with the shaman who—”

  “Right, I remember.”

  “Of course you do. Anyway, the whole trip was like that. Kate picking up on little details—my favorite wine, a significant quotation, having hydrangeas on the table at dinner because she knows I love them—all the little things that showed she was a serious student of my work and not just a fan.”

  Viv had the good grace to blush at that, and Jonah wondered if she’d been working on sounding less pretentious. She might have her faults, but Viv was pretty good at identifying her own weaknesses and looking for ways to improve.