At the Heart of It

by Tawna Fenske

  He tried not to react, even though instinct made him want to yank his arm back and tell her to knock it the hell off. That wasn’t exactly the best way to model positive dialogue for the couples they worked with.

  As the days wore on, Jonah was starting to wonder if all this time on camera was making everyone a little loopy.

  “Here’s the Speedo they want you to wear.”

  Jonah turned to see Amy looking sheepish and offering him a garment the size of an eye patch.

  He frowned. “I thought they were kidding about the hot tub scene.”

  Amy shook her head, still holding the Speedo like a steak entrée she’d been asked to serve a vegetarian. “Sorry. I didn’t make the shot list. But we already know the shirtless stuff has been playing well with focus groups.”

  Which Jonah could grudgingly admit was a good thing. They’d had something like a gazillion hits on the teaser video they’d floated on YouTube. The result had been a slew of donations to Clearwater Animal Shelter, and a growing buzz about the show. Jonah didn’t understand how it all worked, but everyone kept using the word viral. The video had laced footage from Jossy’s shelter with clips from Viv’s appearance on Oprah several years ago, hyping the whole thing up as America’s hottest new reality show.

  The wording had bugged the hell out of Viv, which Jonah could understand. Hell, he could even understand her being irked by how much attention he’d been getting. This television shit was horribly sexist, so maybe he owed it to her to take one for the team.

  He stared at the Speedo. “I’m not wearing that,” he said. “I’ll do the hot tub thing, but I’ll wear my own shorts. I think I have a gym bag in my car.”

  Amy smiled and tucked the Speedo back in her bag. “Great! They’ll see you out there in ten.”

  She walked away, leaving Jonah wondering if the whole thing had been a gimmick to get him to agree while letting him feel like he’d won some small battle. He sighed and glanced at his watch. God, this was shaping up to be their longest filming day yet. At least Beth was holding things together at the bookstore.

  “Jonah?”

  He looked up to see Kate hovering in the doorway of the makeshift greenroom. There was no one with her—no cameraman, no sound checker—and Jonah tried to remember the last time they’d been alone together.

  In her hotel room, he remembered, and tried not to picture her naked.

  She must have had the same thought, because her cheeks turned faintly pink. “I just heard you agreed to do the hot tub scene.”

  “News spreads fast in this business.”

  She looked at him a little oddly. “Right. Yes, it does.” She glanced behind her, then took a few more steps into the room, bringing her close enough to touch. Not that there could be any touching between them. Not here, anyway. “You look exhausted,” she said.

  Jonah laughed. “Gee, thanks.”

  “No, I mean—if you want, I can talk to the production guys about putting this off,” she said. “Maybe we can reschedule or something.”

  “You’re sweet to be concerned,” he said. “Actually, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “To getting in a hot tub with your ex-wife?”

  He frowned. “Viv’s going to be there?”

  “Shit.” Kate frowned. “Yeah. I take it they didn’t mention that part?”

  He shook his head, feeling irritated. “No, they didn’t. Are they doing some bullshit thing where I walk out there and act all surprised to see her in the hot tub?”

  “No, nothing like that. They won’t make you fake anything.”

  The look on her face wasn’t very reassuring. “So what’s the setup?”

  “You’re just supposed to act like you’re unwinding together after a long day of filming,” she said. “Technically, that’s true, right?”

  He frowned. “Sure, if I were in the habit of stripping down and taking a bath with my ex-wife.”

  “Don’t think they didn’t kick the bathtub idea around,” she muttered. “Be grateful they went for the hot tub. At least it’s huge. Plenty of room for you to have your own space.”

  Jonah sighed, hoping this wasn’t going to get played off as some romantic interlude between them. “They’re not going to make us sip wine and laugh at each other’s unfunny jokes, are they?”

  “There’s no requirement that you tell jokes,” she assured him. “Funny or unfunny. And actually, hang on.”

  She hurried out of the room, then returned a few seconds later with a four-pack of beer in cans. “Look—no wine either.”

  “You got me 3-Way IPA?” He grinned as she handed it over.

  “It’s from Fort George Brewery,” she said. “I know you like IPAs, so—”

  “This is great.” He tucked the cans under one arm. “Is this some sort of product placement deal or something?”

  She shook her head, and there was something almost sad in her expression. “No. I just wanted you to have something you’d like. Something that’s just for you.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  They looked at each other for a moment, neither of them saying anything. If there were no risk of anyone walking in, he probably would have kissed her by now. Hell, he might have asked her to skip this whole stupid hot tub thing and come home with him. He was still entertaining that fantasy when she spoke again.

  “Look, Jonah.” Her voice was soft, and she darted a glance at the door before speaking again. “Remember what you said to me that first morning after we—after the night we went to the club?”

  “I said a lot of things that morning,” he said, shifting the beer from one hand to the other. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “You said, ‘No matter what happens, this was never a mistake.’ I just want you to know that meant a lot to me.”

  He studied her a moment, trying to get a handle on what she was saying. On why she was speaking in code. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Kate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

  She shook her head, then opened her mouth to say something else.

  “Come on, already! Take your clothes off!”

  They both turned to see Amy in the doorway tapping her watch. “Sorry, guys, but we need to move this along. We’re paying the whole crew overtime right now. Jonah—you think you could maybe hustle?”

  “Sure. No problem.”

  He looked back at Kate. “Can we talk more later? Like maybe after this shoot? When this is all over?”

  Kate nodded, and that darkness in her eyes flickered again. “Yes. When this is all over.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Places, everyone!”

  Kate clapped her hands together and surveyed the film crew. That seemed easier somehow than focusing on the scene they were set up to capture.

  Jonah and Viv sat a few feet apart in Viv’s massive hot tub that had been designed to look like a rock grotto. Rounded boulders lined the edges of a bubbling pool shimmering with flecks of pink and silver, reflecting the setting sun. A breeze ruffled tiny field violets blooming among the rocks, and Kate breathed in the scent of damp fern and ozone.

  The setting was perfect. The lighting was perfect.

  Kate’s stomach was not perfect. It felt like a cement mixer someone had filled with Jell-O and cold rocks before turning the crank with agonizing slowness.

  “Can you move a little to the right, Joe?” One of the lighting guys waved Jonah closer to Viv, and Kate tried not to cringe.

  Jonah’s arms were stretched out over the rock-lined rim of the tub, his infinity tattoo prominent on one sculpted pectoral muscle. Over his heart. Kate wondered if that’s what the film crew was trying to capture.

  “Beautiful, Vivienne,” someone called. “Turn a little this way. There you go.”

  Kate forced herself to watch. This show was her baby. Her monster. She had to own it.

  Viv’s hair was piled loosely on her head, and she wore a simple black maillot that showed
off her yoga-sculpted shoulders and arched collarbones.

  Collarbones, Kate thought, remembering the game Jonah had described. How they’d taken turns planting kisses on the spots they named as they worked their way through the alphabet. God, she wished she didn’t know. About the game, about the secrets, about everything that was going to happen in the next twenty minutes.

  “We’re ready to roll,” Pete called, snapping Kate back to the present. He looked at her and nodded once, and Kate wondered how much he suspected. How much anyone here suspected.

  Amy stepped up beside him and glanced back at Kate. Her expression didn’t change, but Kate could feel her telegraphing the words.

  “Are you okay?”

  Kate nodded and forced her attention to the hot tub. To the scene unfolding before them. Viv was laughing at something Jonah had said, inching a little closer to him at the urging of the sound man.

  “And—action!” Amy stepped back and looked at Kate again, lifting her hands and offering an almost imperceptible flutter of her fingers.

  It’s out of our hands now.

  Kate nodded and took a breath.

  Then she flicked on the miniature handheld camera she gripped in the folds of her jacket.

  “Okay, guys—just like we talked about,” Kate said. “Casual banter about the day’s shooting. No names, no specifics about the couple. Just general discussion about therapy methods and the sort of work you’re doing.”

  “Got it.” Viv smiled and turned to Jonah. “I think we’re making some amazing progress,” she said. “I feel really great about what we accomplished today.”

  Good, Kate thought. Nice and vague. That’ll make it easier to edit.

  “Yeah,” Jonah said stiffly, then took a sip of beer. He glanced at the sound guy, who gave him a hand gesture urging him to elaborate. “They seem like a nice couple,” he added, resting his beer can on the rock ledge.

  Viv smiled and swished her fingers through the bubbling water, a perfect image of casual banter. “I agree,” she said. “Of course, they could benefit from some improved communication. They need to learn to speak more constructively with one another.”

  “They need to stop acting like toddlers fighting over whose diaper stinks the worst,” Jonah muttered as he spun the beer can between his fingers. “In the end, they’re both full of shit.”

  Kate nodded, approving of the dialogue even if she hated everything else about this moment. About what she knew was coming. She ordered herself not to glance back toward the house, even as she kept the miniature camera aimed that direction.

  “It seems like such a positive sign that they haven’t given up yet,” Viv said. “The fact that they’re coming here to see us speaks volumes about their commitment to each other. About their willingness to work things out, even though they’ve had moments of doubt over the years. Who hasn’t, right?”

  “Sure.” Jonah looked at Viv a little oddly, and Kate held her breath. Did he suspect something?

  If he did, he seemed to shake it off. He took another sip of beer and kept talking. “Maybe we get them in a room and take turns duct taping each one’s mouth shut so they’re forced to listen instead of yammering at each other.”

  In her mind, Kate heard the doorbell. It was imaginary, of course, something they’d cut in during editing. But she knew that’s how it would go. How the scene would unfold on viewers’ television screens. The shot would jump to the lawyer in a three-piece suit standing on Viv’s front porch with a briefcase in his left hand. His right hand would drop from the doorbell, and he’d stand there waiting with an expectant look on his face.

  In reality, the lawyer was stationed in Viv’s mudroom, waiting for his cue to enter. To walk out on set and deliver the big news. At least he really was a lawyer and not a hired actor. That had been Chase’s idea, a way to throw a bone to some favored member of his legal team.

  Kate held her breath, waiting.

  Right on cue, the side door swung open. Kate glanced down at her hand, making sure the camera was aimed right at the pathway leading from the house to the hot tub. She took a step back, getting into position. They’d reshoot this part later, of course, but this was about capturing authentic reactions. The ominous march of the lawyer’s wingtips across Viv’s cobblestone patio. The steely look on his face. The way he adjusted his tie, preparing himself to deliver the unexpected news.

  Kate watched it all unfolding, knowing without a glance down at the handheld that she’d gotten the shot she needed. Pivoting to the right, she angled the tiny camera toward the hot tub, keeping it tucked in her jacket. This was her chance to snag backup footage that Pete and his crew might not get.

  Back in the hot tub, Jonah hadn’t yet noticed the lawyer’s entrance. He was still nursing his beer, still making guarded conversation with Viv. Kate wanted to stop time. She wanted to preserve everything about this moment. This perfect, oblivious instant before everything changed forever.

  “Excuse me?”

  Viv and Jonah looked up. The surprise on both their faces was real. Even Viv hadn’t been clued in about how this would all go down. She knew about the divorce, of course, but her surprise in the moment was genuine. That had been Chase’s idea, too, a chance for the big reveal. An opportunity to catch everyone off guard.

  Just like they’d hoped, Viv looked startled. “Oh. Hello. I—I didn’t realize we had company.”

  “The crew at the door let me in.” The young lawyer stepped to the edge of the hot tub. “I’m sorry to intrude, but there’s some urgent information I need to share.”

  Jonah frowned at the lawyer, who was pulling a chair to the water’s edge. They’d practiced this last night, the way he’d rest his briefcase across his knees and give the couple a solemn, meaningful look. Kate held her breath, watching the lawyer, not daring to look at Jonah.

  “I’m Ashton Solomon with the law firm Myndee, Solomon, and Pierce,” he continued, his face fixed in a perfect expression of concern and professionalism. Kate had coached him on it in the studio earlier, making him say the words over and over until she’d heard them echoing in her brain all night when she couldn’t sleep.

  “I represent the Empire Television Network,” he continued. “And I need to let you know there’s been a new development in your divorce.”

  Kate looked at Jonah and caught the flash of a frown. She knew before he opened his mouth what his response would be. She’d crafted the lawyer’s statement to prompt it, knowing Jonah well enough to anticipate how he’d reply. What he’d say.

  “Our divorce?” Jonah scowled. “You mean the divorce that’s been final for over a year?”

  In the final cut, there’d be a dramatic pause. Maybe a musical crescendo to build the tension.

  In reality, only a few seconds passed. “That’s what I’m here to talk about,” the attorney said. “There’s an issue with your paperwork.”

  Something about the melodramatic tone must have tipped Jonah off. Or maybe it was the panning of the camera, the way the audio guy scuttled across the patio like a teenager hiding beer cans after a party. Whatever the reason, Jonah’s shoulders stiffened.

  Kate watched, motionless. She kept her eyes fixed on his face as the words set in, as he braced himself for the rest of the news.

  “What sort of problem?” Viv’s words were like a distant murmur.

  Kate didn’t breathe. She didn’t move. She just watched Jonah and waited.

  He looked up then, finding her face in the crowd. Kate inhaled sharply. She felt his gaze spear through her like a hot skewer, puncturing a rib and a lung on its way through her heart. She watched as his expression shifted from confusion, to suspicion, to the one thing Kate feared most.

  Betrayal.

  “What the actual fuck?”

  Jonah couldn’t recall if he was allowed to say fuck on television, or if it was one of those things they’d have to bleep out later.

  At the moment, he didn’t give a shit.

  At the moment, the only thing he
did give a shit about was the big stack of paperwork the man with the stupid orange tie had just locked in his briefcase with a taunting thunk.

  “I’ve e-mailed you both a copy of the report so you can review it at your leisure,” the lawyer continued, though Jonah wasn’t sure the guy really was a lawyer. Did lawyers really wear ties that ugly? Or pronounce leisure like it rhymed with pleasure, which seemed unbearably pretentious?

  “This is mind-blowing,” Viv said. She swung her gaze to Jonah and held it there. She didn’t look like he felt. Like he’d just been socked in the chest by a hundred-pound punching bag.

  She looked . . . serene. Calm. Composed.

  She looked like normal Viv, but there was something else. A sick feeling settled in his gut.

  “Did you know about this?” he demanded.

  Her expression faltered a little, and Jonah suspected that wasn’t his line. If this whole thing was as scripted as he’d begun to believe, that’s not how they’d expected him to respond.

  Fuck that.

  “I filed everything we agreed I’d file,” Viv said, reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “The documents to divide our retirement assets, the paperwork with the bank—”

  “That’s not an answer to the question, Viv.” His voice rattled with anger, and he saw one of the sound guys step back. “How long?”

  “How long what?”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Jonah, I’m just as surprised as—”

  “Don’t play me!” he slammed his fist down in the water, splashing himself and his beer and getting nothing on Viv. Of course. That was probably planned, too. “How long have you known about this?”

  Viv pressed her lips together. “I found out a few days ago.”

  A few. That could mean two or three, or it could mean several weeks. Viv had always been vague in her concept of time.

  Did it matter at this point?

  He tore his gaze off her and looked straight at the camera. It was something he’d been instructed not to do, at least not in this scene. Doing it now felt like a rebellion of sorts.

  “This is fucking bullshit,” he said, aware that he sounded like one of the couples they’d been counseling. Like an angry, impetuous, scorned lover.