At the Heart of It

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At the Heart of It Page 17

by Tawna Fenske


  “Real-life stories are best,” Amy agreed. “And it will help if it’s a little juicy. Something that will really draw viewers in.”

  Viv looked thoughtful, but not upset like Kate expected. That seemed . . . odd. Then again, Viv wasn’t the one who’d be most annoyed by another form of personal intrusion. It was Jonah they needed to worry about.

  “Did they say why they’re asking for this?” Viv asked. “It seems a little strange to throw this in after we’ve already started filming.”

  “They think it’ll give viewers a more intimate connection to the show,” Amy said. “You know, provide a sort of voyeuristic thrill about peering into your lives.”

  Kate’s stomach churned, and she hated where this was going. Not as much as Jonah was going to hate it, though. She glanced at Viv, who looked serene as always. “Viv? Do you have any ideas?”

  Vivienne tilted her head to the side and gave a slow nod. “Perhaps. Let me give it some thought. How soon do they need to know?”

  “Within a day or two,” Amy said. “I told them we’d put our heads together and get back to them.”

  Kate picked up the coiled cables and moved across the room. Depositing them in a crate next to the door, she straightened and looked at Viv.

  “Should we call Jonah in for a meeting?” Her voice sounded casual enough, but eagerness fluttered right under her breastbone. “We could get him on a conference call if we don’t want to drag him back here.”

  Viv looked at her, seeming to consider it. “No. Let me do it in person. One on one.”

  Kate nodded in agreement. “Of course.” That was best, obviously. The less time Kate spent with Jonah, the better. Let Viv handle this. “That sounds perfect. Maybe the two of you can go have coffee or something and hammer out your thoughts.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Viv smiled and stood up. Her silk slacks were remarkably unwrinkled, and Kate wondered how she managed that. “If you two don’t mind, I’m going to head into my study and do a little brainstorming for this. Will you excuse me?”

  Kate nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Viv smiled, moving toward the doorway. As she approached, Kate stepped aside to let her pass. A tickle of Viv’s perfume hovered in the air, something spicy and earthy and mysterious.

  “Thanks for all your hard work today, Vivienne,” Kate said. “You did a fantastic job.”

  “You, too, ladies.” Vivienne looked back at Amy, then returned her gaze to Kate. She held it for a long time, and Kate ordered herself not to break eye contact. Not to flinch at all. Viv smiled. “I hope you know how much Jonah and I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  Kate swallowed and nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Tell Jonah hello for us,” Amy called. “Make sure you let him know we think he did great, too.”

  Vivienne smiled again, her eyes still locked with Kate’s. “I certainly will.”

  Jonah walked through the door of the animal shelter with a skinny Labrador on a leash, more eager than he’d been in weeks to put his damn shirt back on.

  “Getting chilly out there?” Jossy asked as she grabbed the lab’s leash and handed Jonah a wad of clothing he recognized as his own.

  “Actually, it’s a lot warmer than it looks.” He fumbled with his sweatshirt, trying to untangle it from the T-shirt he’d left twisted inside. “And Bruno here does great on a leash.”

  “Good boy!” Jossy bent to scratch the dog’s ears as Jonah dropped the sweatshirt on the counter and began wrangling his T-shirt right-side out.

  “I could have done without the woman who stood there for a full minute watching Bruno lick his dick before turning to me and asking if that gave me any ideas.”

  “Eew!” Jossy pretended to gag. “Jesus. What the hell is wrong with people?”

  Jonah yanked the hem of his T-shirt out of the armpit, cheered by his sister’s indignation. “I told her Bruno seemed to be doing a fine job cleaning it himself, but that he’d let her know if he needed a hand.”

  “I feel like I need a shower.”

  “You and me both.” Jonah located the neck hole of his shirt and had just started to yank it on when the door chimed. He looked up to see Vivienne standing in the doorway.

  She’d changed into a flowy black top and soft-looking lavender leggings that reminded him of a pair she’d owned when they were married. Back then, she used to wear them around the house on nights they’d cook dinner together. He’d graze her ass with his palm, brushing past her en route from the granite island to the stove, and Viv would gasp and pretend to be shocked.

  Jonah always knew better. She’d liked his occasional flares of caveman behavior. At least she had when it served her purposes.

  “Jonah.” Viv’s gaze drifted over his chest and lingered for a good three seconds before she lifted her eyes to his.

  He hurried to pull the shirt over his head, struggling to stuff his hands through the arm holes. As he yanked down on the hem, he felt better about not being so exposed.

  “You just put your shirt on backward,” Viv pointed out.

  “I like it that way.” He yanked the hem down again as Viv continued to study him. “What brings you here? Christ, I’ve seen you more lately than I did when we were married.”

  The thought didn’t cheer Jonah all that much, but Viv just smiled. He waited for her to answer, but her gaze swung to Jonah’s left instead.

  “Josslyn,” she said. “It’s so good to see you. Would you mind if I stole your brother for just a minute?”

  “That’s kinda up to my brother.” Jossy looked at Jonah, her expression flat. “His shift as my shirtless dog walker is over, so his schedule is up to him.”

  Jonah heard the prickliness in his sister’s voice and wondered if he should do something to soothe it. He also wished they had some sort of secret sibling signal to cue an impromptu game of make-believe. An ear tug to indicate Jossy should fake a fainting spell, or maybe a chin scratch to suggest she play along if he announced a need to reroof the building today.

  The memory of his game of make-believe with Kate gave Jonah a sharp pang of longing. Hardly convenient with his ex-wife standing here, appearing unlikely to leave until he agreed to chat with her.

  “Yeah, fine,” Jonah said at last. “I’m free for a few minutes, I guess. I do have somewhere to be in an hour, though.”

  “A date?”

  Jonah stared at her. Since when was Viv interested in his personal life? “Not a date,” he said. “Something at the bookstore. Come on. You want to hit that coffee shop around the corner?”

  “They have tea?”

  “I’m sure they have tea,” he said.

  He marched toward the door and pulled it open, then turned back to see Jossy pantomiming a gag. He started to give her a dirty look, but caught Viv smiling up at him and decided to ignore his sister.

  “Thank you,” Viv said as he held the door open. “You know, we didn’t get to finish our exercise before filming began. This is another thing I always appreciated about you—the way you hold the door open for others.”

  “Yeah, I’m a real fucking gentleman.” He sounded like an asshole, and he tried to figure out why he was acting that way. Something about Viv being here in his space. Well, Jossy’s space.

  Stop being a dick, he ordered himself.

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started toward the coffee shop. He glanced over to see her shiver a little in the autumn breeze, and he instantly felt sorry for her.

  “I appreciated a lot of things about you, too, Viv,” he offered.

  “Like what?” She looked up expectantly as she fell into step beside him, and Jonah scrambled to come up with something meaningful.

  “Your feet,” he said. “You have nice feet.”

  Viv burst out laughing, then stopped walking and lifted one sandal-clad foot. “You’re a real romantic, Jonah.”

  Funny, the way she said it with fondness now instead of shouting it at him the way she had a year before the divorce. Jonah walked
faster, trying to escape the memory of those words.

  “I’m just asking you to meet me where I am,” she’d said in that way Viv had of yelling without raising her voice at all. “To offer some romantic gesture to show you even see me anymore—”

  “Here we are!” Jonah announced unnecessarily as he jerked open the door of the little coffee shop. A bell tinkled, and he gestured for Viv to walk through first. She smiled and floated across the threshold in that stately way she always had of moving through the world.

  He let her order first, then asked for a plain black coffee and a blueberry muffin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten anything. The day’s filming had left his stomach too knotted up to do much more than pick at the elaborate spread the TV people had laid out in Viv’s kitchen.

  Since Viv didn’t whip out her wallet, Jonah paid. That earned him a show of gratitude that seemed much more effusive than a ten-dollar tab warranted.

  “Really, Jonah,” Viv gushed. “That’s so thoughtful.”

  She clutched her mug of chamomile tea and drifted to a quiet table in the corner. Jonah followed, wondering what the hell she was up to. He’d find out soon enough.

  “So,” Viv said when they were finally seated. She wrapped her fingers around the mug of steaming tea, but didn’t take a sip. “How did you think today went?”

  “Fine. It went fine.” He wanted to leave it at that, but her expectant look told him he was supposed to say more. That he needed to “unpack it,” as she used to say.

  Jonah sighed and stirred some sugar into his coffee. “Having cameras in my face like that was a little intense,” he said. “But Sam and Elena seemed nice. Well, once they stopped hamming it up for dramatic effect.”

  “Do you think the marriage can be saved?”

  He looked at her a moment, trying to read her expression. How often in their marriage had she ever asked his opinion? Ever really sounded like she wanted it?

  “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I think they can save it. If they’re willing to do the work.”

  Viv’s face broke into a grin. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

  Jonah grunted and picked up his coffee. He took a big gulp before remembering it was really fucking hot and also that he didn’t even want coffee. It was just something to order, something to hold in his hands as a prop so he could look like a motherfucking adult having a motherfucking grown-up conversation.

  What was it about being around Viv that made his subconscious swear so much?

  He took another sip of coffee, waiting for her to say something. It was another elicitation technique, one of his favorites he’d honed on his last tour in Kabul. Just waiting for the other person to get uncomfortable and rush to fill the silence. They always did.

  Especially Viv, who never could stand it when people weren’t making a constant effort to communicate.

  “So, Jonah,” she said. “The network folks made another request today.”

  “They want me to do the show shirtless?” He grunted again and blew on the coffee. “Yeah, they already called and asked.”

  “What?” Viv blinked, then laughed. “Oh, you’re kidding? Right, of course.”

  Actually, he wasn’t kidding, but there was no point detailing his phone conversation with Chase Whitfield. Man, that guy was a piece of work.

  But that didn’t seem to be why Viv had tracked him down. He didn’t really give a shit about shooting some B-roll of him working out in the little gym he’d built at the bookstore. Free publicity for Cornucopia Books was never a bad thing, plus the network had agreed to pay Beth to run the shop on days Jonah was filming. He felt like he owed them.

  “Anyway,” Viv said. “The network wants to do an arced story line.”

  “A what?”

  “An arced story line,” she repeated. “It’s where there’s a story that carries through the whole season of episodes. Some little thread that ties everything together.”

  “You mean besides the fact that both of us are in every episode?”

  “That’s the starting point, of course,” she said. “But it would be something more than that. Something more—personal.”

  “More personal than having cameras stuck in our faces for ten hours a day?”

  Viv took a sip of her tea and gave Jonah a look of practiced patience. “They want to focus on some element of our story,” she said. “You and me.”

  “You and me.” The words came out flat, and Jonah wasn’t sure why he needed to repeat them. To hear them land in the middle of the table with a dull thud.

  Viv pretended not to notice. “Exactly. For instance, say one of us were involved in a new romance. The producers might chronicle how that unfolded, maybe explore each spouse’s emotional reactions to the new development.”

  Jonah felt a pang of alarm, but willed himself not to react. Had Viv picked up on something between him and Kate? Maybe caught a lingering glance between them, or noticed the way Kate smiled and rolled her eyes when the makeup girl swooped in for the third time to powder his face and rest one of her silicone-enhanced breasts on his shoulder.

  Jonah gripped his mug a little tighter and tried not to picture Kate’s face. Or her bare leg, disappearing into a delicious froth of bathtub suds. Or the kiss in Ashland, or the one at the bookstore, or the kiss at his place—

  Christ. How many times had they kissed?

  Too many for two people who’d pledged not to do it at all.

  Not enough, considering how much he wanted to do it again.

  Jonah looked at his ex-wife and focused very, very hard on not blinking.

  “I’m not seeing anyone,” he said slowly. “Are you?”

  “No!” She brought her hand down on the table a little too quickly, sending a teaspoon clattering against her saucer. “I’m not. I’m not dating anyone at all.”

  “Okay, then,” he said slowly. “You think one of us should start Internet dating or something?”

  “There’s an interesting idea.” She picked up her tea and blew on it, then took a cautious sip. “I suppose I could float that out there with the producers. One of us joining a professional online dating network or something.”

  “How about if we make it you?” Jonah said, already regretting having broached the subject. “I don’t think I’m really cut out for Internet dating. It all seems like too much exhibitionist bullshit for my taste.”

  Viv cocked her head to the side and studied him. “Says the man who walks dogs with his shirt off?”

  “Not the same thing,” Jonah said. “That’s for a good cause. Gets people through the door and looking at adoptable pets.”

  “Of course, I understand.” She looked at him over the rim of her mug. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Maybe there could be some story line about your shirtless dog-walking duties and all the women you attract.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  “Really? I thought you’d want to bring the attention to the shelter. Maybe generate donations for Jossy’s cause or more interest in adoptable animals.”

  Hell. He hadn’t thought of it like that. “I guess. Maybe.” He made a mental note to talk to Kate about it. Maybe that could be a way to help Jossy and the shelter without having to fight her to take money from him directly.

  “This is wonderful!” Viv smiled. “Let’s keep brainstorming. I like the way this is going.”

  Jonah didn’t particularly, but he refrained from saying so. “You mentioned something about remodeling your upstairs bathroom. Maybe they could focus on that.”

  “Hmm. Yes. I think they’re looking for something a little more personal.”

  Of course they were. Jonah knew it already, but he’d hoped Viv might take the bait. Might be happy with the prospect of something that put more focus on her. It was her damn show, after all.

  “What if we spent some time analyzing what went wrong in our own marriage?” Viv said. “Maybe some clips where we each reflect on the role we played in the breakdown of our relationship. I kno
w I have plenty of regrets. Plenty of mistakes I could own.”

  Jonah looked at her, wondering if he was supposed to say the same thing. It was true, but was there any benefit to rehashing that now? “Sure,” he said. “I know I fucked up plenty.”

  “So maybe that’s a way we could lend some personal insights to the couples we’re helping,” she said. “A way of sharing from our own experiences.”

  Jonah frowned, but didn’t reply right away. He didn’t like the idea of tossing out all his dirty laundry for the camera. That’s not what he signed on for, dammit.

  Then again, she had a point. He’d learned a few things through the unraveling of his marriage and the whole messy process of divorce. If that could be useful to someone else, maybe he owed it to the world to keep some other poor schmuck from tanking his relationship.

  “Maybe,” he said slowly. “I guess I’d be willing to consider it.”

  “Wonderful!” Viv beamed at him, and Jonah felt like a student who’d just answered an algebra question correctly. “I’ll add that to the list they’re sending the network director.”

  “Sure,” he muttered, ready for this conversation to be over. “Whatever you want.”

  Her brows lifted a fraction of an inch, and she tilted her head to the side. “So overall, you’d say you’re fairly open?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at her, not sure why he felt leery all of a sudden. “I guess I’d want to know about it beforehand, whatever they decide.”

  “Of course.”

  “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather the story be more focused on you than me.”

  Viv laced her fingers together on the table and nodded. “That’s good feedback.” She stared at him a moment longer, then unlaced her fingers to reach for her tea again.

  Jonah glanced down at his own mug, surprised to see he’d already drained it. He hadn’t touched the muffin, but his stomach wasn’t feeling up to it anymore. Would there someday be a point where being around Viv wouldn’t make him feel this way? Like someone grabbed hold of one of his testicles between a cold thumb and forefinger, not pinching, but not letting go either. Like he was waiting for the ache that may or may not happen.

 

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