It was almost dramatic enough for reality TV! But it wasn’t a show, it was really happening, my life.
I hadn’t intended to quit my job. I swear, I’d had every intention of walking out of that conference room and pasting a smile on my face, putting my shoulder to the wheel, all the other things I’d done in life to just keep on keeping on. A girl like me didn’t exactly have a lot of cushion to fall back on. I lived paycheck to paycheck. With no job there would be no rent.
But I hadn’t walked out of the conference room. I’d sat there until Sam had returned and asked what the hell was I doing. To which I’d responded what the hell was he doing, and things went downhill from there. Before I knew it, my boss and I were having one of those “maybe you need to think about whether this is the right place for you, Vi,” conversations.
With everyone so hyped up about making some muck-slinging exposé focused on a man who didn’t deserve it and didn’t want it—a man I’d unwittingly tricked into signing a consent form—I did know whether or not the Fame! Network was the right place for me. The answer was NOT.
I wished I’d quit like in the movies, with a rousing speech about the evils of greed and deception. Instead, I’d cried a little, packed a cardboard box with my belongings and nodded at the hushed, whispered “good lucks” from those around me. I’d been cast out. No one wanted to catch what I had, so they mostly gave me a wide berth as I headed out into the blinding L.A. sun.
Sunshine. I’d always liked it. Just then, though, it felt like a slap in the face. As if L.A. didn’t care at all about what had happened to me. A place like Vermont, though? It would have the decency to storm, maybe rain or even pelt down hail to reflect my mood. L.A. just kept on smiling at me in my pain.
Heath wouldn’t answer my calls. He didn’t respond to any of my texts. God knew what he thought of me. I’d handed him the papers giving the network consent to film.
And who was he, actually? That question kept coming up as well.
There was only one thing to do and it couldn’t be done with us on either side of the country. I bought the first plane ticket I could, rented myself a hearty SUV for the ride from the airport and arrived at his cabin in Watson late Sunday night.
It almost felt surreal knocking on his door. Especially when a few flashes went off and I realized he had paparazzi waiting there. Paparazzi! In Watson, Vermont! They must be freezing cold.
I almost wondered if Heath was going to answer the door. I had to knock again, the cameras catching every anxious second, until he finally ripped it open with such violence I wondered that it didn’t come right off its hinges.
“Get in here,” he growled, and I walked into the den of the bear. He locked the door behind me.
“Heath, I’m so sorry,” I started but he didn’t let me finish.
“Violet!” He thrust his hand up into his messed-up hair, grabbing a fistful. He looked so good, so massive and sexy, but even I could tell he bristled with Do Not Touch. “Why did you come here?”
“To talk to you.” I reached a hand out but he just looked at it. I let it drop.
“Did they get some nice shots of you out there?” He pointed toward the door, then started pacing around his living room like a lion in a cage.
“I’m so sorry they’re here.” I took a step toward him, but only a step. It was so good to see him, but scary, too. He was brimming with rage.
“You’re sorry!” he exploded, looking at me with disbelief. “That’s the whole reason you came here in the first place! To film it!”
“No.” I shook my head. “Not like this.”
“No?” He stood in the middle of the room, tall and powerful as a tree, staring down at me with such coldness in his eyes I wondered if it had been a good idea to fly there after all. “How dare you come here into my home. You lied to me.”
“I didn’t.” I hated the pleading quality in my voice, but he had to know the truth. “I swear. I made a different pitch. I pitched the show I talked about with you, focused on the town, the people, the businesses. It was Sam’s idea to do the exposé on you. I didn’t sell you out.”
“You gave me the paperwork to sign.” His voice stayed so level, completely unmoved by my explanations.
“I’m sorry, I honestly didn’t know what you were signing.”
He looked at me, seeming to weigh my words. I held my breath. “Nope.” He shook his head. “I don’t buy it. You’re not that stupid.”
His words about knocked the wind right out of me. I’d never seen a mean side to Heath before. Gruff, sure. But this was a whole new Heath, and I didn’t like it one bit.
“You’re one to accuse me of lying.” The angry words started flying out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. “You’ve been lying this whole time. To me and to everyone. Why didn’t you say who you really are?”
“I lied?” His question, low and cold, lay coiled there like a snake. A smart person would have backed away quietly. But I wasn’t feeling smart. I was feeling hurt and angry and vengeful so I took out a stick and poked it.
“Yeah, you did,” I told him. “You acted like you’re just some craftsman out here in the woods. But who are you really, Heath? Are you from one of the richest families in the world? Descended from British royalty? Your brother is Ash Black?” My voice rose with each question.
He looked down at the broad wooden floor planks, barely containing his rage as he grit through his teeth, “Yes, but that’s not me.”
“It is you,” I insisted. And knowing I was right made me feel like an idiot. I’d fallen for him, but it turned out I didn’t even know who he really was. He was from a completely different world, the kind that looked down on regular people like me. And to think, stupid me, I’d worried about whether he had enough cash to cover the cost of dinner.
“You didn’t tell me the truth.” I shook my head, my cheeks burning with memories. “And there I was, bragging about how I got my degree in night school. And where did you go to college? Dartmouth?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t get a degree.”
“Oh!” I rolled my eyes. “Big fuckin’ whoop!”
“Is that the kind of mature conversation we’re having here?” he spat out. “What’s next? I know you are but what am I?”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to rouse myself out of this nightmare. I hadn’t flown there to fight with him. I’d come to try to apologize, explain what had happened. Right the wrong.
“Heath, I don’t want to—”
“I should have known,” he interrupted, not even looking at me as he talked. “I blame myself. Anyone could take one look at you and see what you’re after.”
“See what, exactly?” There it was again, the anger flaring up hot in me. Who the hell did he think he was? “What do you think you see when you look at me, Heath? Because I don’t think you’re the one who should be talking about appearances being deceiving.”
“Now we’re back to me being the liar.” He threw his hands up in the air.
“How’d you buy the land to build this cabin, Heath?” The question only just occurred to me, but the second it did I felt incensed. And right. “Let me guess. You used your family’s money to do it.”
He glowered at me. But he didn’t deny it.
“You bought this land with your daddy’s money so you could play poor kid,” I accused him. “See, not all of us get to play at doing shit ourselves. Some of us have to make our own way because we have no other choice.”
“I don’t want to hear any more from you!” he thundered.
“You’re like Sir Heathcliff McMoneybags!” I yelled, knowing vaguely I was starting to sound crazy but too angry to care.
The man in question crossed the room in three long, swift strides. He drew back the curtains on his window and blinding, rapid flashes assaulted us in the room.
“You see this?” he yelled. “You did that.”
I flinched and turned away from the light of the cameras. He was right. I hadn’t meant to do it, but ultimately
I was responsible for him getting thrown to the wolves. Angrily, he snapped the curtain back into place.
“You know how hard I worked to separate myself from all of that? To become my own man? Live on my own terms? Create a life for myself that I believe in? It’s all gone now.”
We stood there, both of us panting with anger and pain.
“Maybe if you’d told them the truth before—?” I started.
“Look, Violet.” He exhaled, staring at the floor planks, gathering his strength. Or restraining his strength. I didn’t know what battle was raging inside of him, but I could tell it was fierce. “I’m not interested in fighting with you. You’ve made a big, fucking mess out of my life.”
“I’m sorry, Heath.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He shook his head, dismissing my words. “After all the trouble you’ve caused, can’t you see the best thing you can do is leave me alone? I don’t want anything to do with you.”
I’d thought I’d already had the wind knocked out of me, but apparently I still had a little left in there to lose. My mouth gaped open and I said nothing, dumbstruck.
“Get out of here, Violet.” He turned his back to me.
Shocked into silence, I found my way to the door and left without another word.
§
What did you do when you had no job, no boyfriend, no life? You crawled onto your mom’s couch and wore a melon-colored sweat suit from the sale rack at Walmart for several days on end, that’s what.
I didn’t have a job anymore so I couldn’t make rent. That last minute round trip cross-country plane ticket hadn’t exactly been cheap. I was lucky I had enough to cover the costs of shipping my things back to New Jersey.
I wished I could say that I left LAX with my fist raised and a rallying cry, “You haven’t heard the last of me, L.A.!” But it was hard to summon your inner fierceness when you had a broken heart.
Because that was the real problem. I’d gone and fallen completely in love with a mountain man. Only that man didn’t actually exist. Simple, tough Heath the woodworker was actually Heathcliff Kavanaugh, Ivy League heir to billions. And he couldn’t have made it more clear that he wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with me.
“Here’s to you, Heathcliff Kavanaugh,” I murmured, scooping another big spoonful of Ben & Jerry’s into my mouth. I didn’t even use a bowl. I wondered what the royals in his family would have to say about that. The manners on that heathen! And just because I didn’t have to worry about what they’d think of me since they’d never, ever meet me anyway, I finished the whole frickin’ pint.
CHAPTER 20
Heath
I sat awkwardly on the couch with an untouched glass of wine in my hand while my brother Ash’s fiancé arranged flowers in a vase.
“Do you think these look fussy?” She tilted her head and surveyed them from a short distance. “I know it’s still technically winter, but I thought some flowers would really brighten things up.”
“They’re, uh, nice,” I offered. She was nice, too. She’d been nothing but welcoming and kind since I’d arrived at their place in SoHo yesterday afternoon. It was me who was being stiff and weird. I didn’t feel right about imposing on them. They had to prefer having their place to themselves.
“We’re so thrilled you’re here, Heath!” Ana exclaimed. “The guest room is all set up for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I grumbled and mumbled. Sometimes I felt like a little kid in a big, overgrown man’s body.
“It’s our pleasure!” she sang out and she made me believe it. Ash had really lucked out with this one. I’d seen him with some grade-A Prima Donnas over the past years. He’d gone through a Victoria’s Secret model phase and the best thing I could say about the lot of them were they were nice to look at. For about five minutes. Until the whining and preening and posturing and drama made you look for the nearest exit. But with me, lots of things made me look for the nearest exit.
“So, do you eat red meat?” Ana asked. “Because I’ve got a lasagna in the oven for dinner and it does have some ground beef in it, but I’m making a salad on the side and I could see what else we have in the kitchen.”
“Of course he eats red meat!” Ash strode into the room, looking happier than I’d ever seen him. “How else do you think Heath grew so big?”
The two of them bustled around me, clearly in sync with each other, finding ways to touch and exchange smiles. Honestly, Ash had always made me a little edgy in the past. He had such a frenetic energy pulsing through him, a constant internal drive pushing him in his music, toward the spotlight. But when he gazed at Ana, which he often did, he looked almost peaceful.
The two of them were good to talk to about the scum of the earth that were the paparazzi. They’d been chased around by cameras since the first day they’d met.
“So, Heath.” Ana turned to me with a gleam in her eyes. “Are you single? Because I’ve got a roommate—”
“Oh no, Ana!” Ash interrupted. “Don’t you dare set him up with Liv.”
“Not Liv! Jillian.”
“I’m not…” I shook my head, trying to find the right words to stop this crazy train. “I’m done with all that.”
“Are you, now?” Uh-oh, Ash had a gleam in his eyes as he took a sip of his wine. Apparently I hadn’t said the right words. “So if you’re done, that means you were just involved with someone.”
I exhaled. Better to get it over with. I told them the short version, that I’d met a woman from the TV network when she’d been up in Watson.
“She’s not behind the exposé?” Ash asked.
“She handed me the consent form to film it.”
“Hmm.” Ash considered the situation. “Might be more going on there than you know about.”
“You should talk to her,” Ana chimed in. “What’s her side of things?”
I put a forkful of lasagna in my mouth so I didn’t have to participate in the conversation. But they waited politely for me to finish my bite. “I’m not going to talk to her.”
“Why not?” Ana looked so concerned, so kind and worried. I couldn’t just pull a big, gruff Heath and walk up and out. I wanted to, though.
“Well, for one, she’s pissed at me,” I started. “She thinks I lied to her.”
“About your family?” Ash adopted a movie announcer voice. “The billionaire Kavanaugh dynasty.”
“Something like that.”
“Just call her up,” Ana said, making it all sound so simple as she poured me more wine. “Tell her you’re sorry. Offer to take her sailing on a yacht. She’ll get over it.”
I shook my head. “We had a big fight. I think the last thing she said to me was she called me Sir Heathcliff McMoneybags.”
Ash and Ana burst out laughing. “I like this one,” Ash declared.
“I can’t wait to meet her!” Ana exclaimed.
“Not likely.” I put another big bite of lasagna in my mouth and focused on my plate. It was easy to laugh things off when you were so in love you looked like cartoon characters with hearts bursting out of your eyes. But morose as I was, I had to acknowledge they did have a point. Sir Heathcliff McMoneybags was kind of funny.
§
In the living room of my mother’s Connecticut estate, I again found myself sitting stiffly on a couch. Only I wasn’t the only one stiff and awkward this time around. My mother looked like she’d just bit down on a lemon but was using all of her self-control to grin and bear it.
“So good of you to come,” she offered. I grunted. More silence.
She’d invited me to lunch, and I’d dutifully accepted the invitation. We only saw each other a handful of times each year. It wasn’t as if we fought. We simply had very little to say to each other.
“Would you like some water?” She gestured to a pitcher and some glasses set out on a tray. No alcohol. She hadn’t touched a drop since those dark years post-divorce. I helped myself to a glass. It gave me something to do.
I knew
she’d invited me today out of a sense of maternal obligation, more than an authentic desire to spend time with me. I remembered childhood parties she’d hosted for hundreds, but since the divorce from my father she’d become a bit of a recluse. She’d pretty much holed up with her roses, her hounds and, after a few years, her second husband Stewart, who brought new meaning to the words stodgy and boring. She liked things quiet. Kind of like me.
The only problem with that was neither one of us had a damned thing to say to each other.
“Heath!” Thank God, like an angel from above my younger sister Gigi entered the room, bringing levity and conversation with her. She’d always stood out in this family like a fresh daisy sprung from the frozen earth, radiant and charming.
“Didn’t know you were here.” I rose and gave her a hug.
“It’s the start of trimester break!” She chattered through all of lunch, telling us about her senior year in college, the internship she was doing, and how excited she was to head off with friends to the Bahamas for the rest of her break.
“I’m so sorry about the crazy exposé that network had planned.” Gigi placed a delicate, consoling hand on my forearm. “But Nelson’s taken care of it, hasn’t he?” She looked to my mother, so optimistic and upbeat. How she’d grown up in this family so unscathed, I didn’t know. Maybe she had more going on inside of her than she let on. But to external appearances, she seemed practically perfect in every way.
“Nelson has successfully managed the situation,” my mother confirmed.
“Yeah?” I’d figured that the vast Kavanaugh connections and wealth would win the day, but I hadn’t heard for sure.
“He phoned this morning,” she explained. “That network—” she spat out the word as if it were distasteful— “has agreed to cancel its plans.”
Relief poured through me fast and hot. I took a sip of water. Strangely enough, I felt the impulse to call Violet and share the good news. It made no sense. I knew that. She was the reason for the mess in the first place. But the thought occurred to me nevertheless. I still felt a connection to her. I guessed it was because I rarely let people in. Once I’d done it, it was hard to get them out.
Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) Page 21