Taking the Heat

by Victoria Dahl

  “You can.” He stood up and pulled on his pants, then reached toward her, trying to offer comfort, but she shook her head.

  “No. I’ve spent my entire life pretending. Pretending I wasn’t shy and scared and lonely. I faked my way through high school and college. I faked my way through New York City. I’ve faked my way through Dear Veronica, too, and I’m not doing it anymore. Not ever again.”

  He shook his head. “I’d never ask you to be someone you’re not.”

  “No. Not me, Gabe. You. You want me to come here and live your fake life with you.”

  His head drew back as if he were trying to escape a blow. “What?” A huff of breath escaped him on a laugh. “Me?”

  “You’re always telling me to be myself,” she said, “but how can you say that? You’re planning a whole fake life for yourself, doing something you hate in a place you don’t want to be.”

  “I don’t have a choice!”

  “Fine, but I’m not going back, and I’m not going to watch you do that to yourself.”

  “I’ll still be me, Veronica.”

  “No, you won’t. Everything about you was different at the restaurant today, and that will hurt you the same way it hurt me. I won’t encourage it. I won’t be a part of it. Claire isn’t going to walk away from her life and run a burger place. She’s a vegan, Gabe! And Naomi? You think she’s going to run MacKenzie’s? She just told me tonight that she wants to buy a place in Paris!”

  She wiped another tear from her cheek, but this time Gabe was too shocked to try to comfort her. His limbs felt numb. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Just watch my dad work until he dies?”

  “I don’t know!” she cried. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to calm. “I have no idea, but I don’t think the answer is to give up everything you are because he’s stubborn. I’ve tried that kind of thing. It doesn’t work.”

  He snatched up his shirt, the panic finally flowing into fury. “I don’t have any choice. Don’t you get that?”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “But I do.”

  Wow. She was really walking away from him. How could she not understand? “You don’t even like your dad and you can’t stand up to him. I’m doing this out of love, at least.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he hated himself for them, but she nodded.

  “That’s changing,” she said. “I’m learning. But for you... It’s like you only want people to know the good things, Gabe. You did that with me. You’re doing that with your dad. It’s protective, I think. You want to take care of the bad stuff yourself. You want to shield them. But you’re shielding yourself, too. Nobody has to be disappointed with you, because you’ll make it all okay.”

  “I’m not one of your columns,” he snapped.

  “Right. I’m sorry. That was...” She shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

  Gabe fastened his belt and shoved his feet into his shoes. “Call me if you change your mind,” he said.

  Lips pressed tight together, she nodded.

  “Good luck tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  He left before he said something else that was hurtful. Something he wouldn’t be able to take back.

  She couldn’t understand family, because her dad had never done the things he should have. But Gabe’s dad was different. He’d always taken care of them. Always watched out. Always made sure they had the best. He’d protected all of them, and now it was Gabe’s turn to do the same.

  He couldn’t walk away from that, not even for Veronica. So he rode down the elevator and felt another thing he wanted dropping away, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

  * * *

  HE DIDN’T SLEEP a wink. He dragged himself from bed at 5:00 a.m. to go for a run and try to get Veronica out of his head, but all he thought about while running through the dawn streets was how much she’d like it this time of morning. How clean it all was. How the birds were singing and the pink sun glinted off the river and how much he wished she were with him.

  He was cleaned up and on the subway by seven, heading to Brooklyn to check in on the new location. His dad had been begging him to, and frankly, Gabe needed off the island. Veronica was only a few dozen blocks away. If he stayed that close, he’d go see her. So he went to Brooklyn and watched the contractors work for a while, pretending he gave a damn about it all.

  But her words stung him as if they were new wounds on his skin. Maybe it was pretending. He’d told himself sacrifice was just part of growing up, but now he didn’t know if he was sacrificing his happiness for something good or if he was just giving in.

  He wasn’t bad at this job. He could do it. He was organized and sharp and dedicated to keeping his father’s vision going. It was a lot of work, but he was young and healthy—he could push himself just as hard as his dad had.

  And then what? Do the same thing year after year until he had a heart attack, too?

  Shit.

  At 10:00 a.m. Gabe shook the general contractor’s hand and made a quick escape from the newly gutted space. He felt as if he’d been working for ten hours instead of two and a half. The cacophony of the subway station seemed to bore through his skull. When the train pulled up, Gabe caught sight of himself in the reflection of the window, neck bent, shoulders hunched up. He looked miserable.

  Veronica was right. He wasn’t himself here. He couldn’t be. But he didn’t have any fucking choice.

  The fury was there again as he boarded the train. It built as the car picked up speed, the roar of noise like fuel on a fire. Gabe closed his eyes and imagined feeling like this again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the year after that.

  He opened his eyes and glanced at the people surrounding him. They looked as exhausted and miserable as Gabe felt. His dad was different. If James MacKenzie had been here, he’d have struck up three different conversations and had the whole damn train car laughing. That was his happiness in life. Being around people, cheering them up, whether that was with a good burger or a bad joke. He loved what he did, and even with that, the business had worn him down with stress. How would Gabe survive it?

  Because Veronica was definitely right about one thing. Claire wasn’t going to step up in a few years and neither was Naomi. If Gabe took this on, he’d be taking it on forever.

  If. That word meant he had a choice. Did he?

  When he got back to his family’s place, he wasn’t surprised to walk in on an argument. His mom and dad were both stubborn and strong, and they’d never spent this many hours of the week together.

  “You’ve been putting me off for decades,” his mom snapped, “telling me we’d travel next year or the year after that. I want to go to the Bahamas. I want to go to Europe. I want to go on a cruise. And you have to take time off. The doctor said so.”

  “I’m taking time off. Don’t you see me sitting here being useless? I’ll travel with you, Mary, I swear to God, but right now I need to be here to help Gabe. You think he’s just going to step right in and things will go smoothly? I may not be able to work sixty hours a week, but I can damn sure be here to offer guidance.”

  Gabe waved as he walked into the kitchen. “Hi, Mom. Dad.”

  “Gabe,” his mom said, “tell your father you don’t need him here.”

  “Of course he needs me here,” his dad snapped.

  “Watch your blood pressure!” she yelled back.

  “Guys,” Gabe said, holding up his hands in a plea.

  His dad scoffed. “There will be plenty of time to travel later. I can’t just leave Gabe with a mess. What’s the point of leaving my kids the business if it’s in chaos?”

  What was the point exactly? Gabe took a deep breath. “Dad, did you ever consider that maybe the legacy your kids would rather have is you?”

  His dad’s face creased with bafflement. �
��What are you talking about? You’ve got me. I’m right here.”

  “None of us are married yet,” Gabe said. “None of us have kids. If we could trade the restaurants for another twenty years with you, all three of us would make that choice in a heartbeat. Sometimes it seems like you care more about MacKenzie’s than you do about time with any grandkids you might have.”

  “Gabe,” his Dad growled. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I want you around to see my kids, Dad. I can’t imagine a better grandfather than you.”

  “What’s all this about? Is Veronica pregnant?”

  His mom stepped forward. “Gabe? Is that true?”

  He laughed. “No, she’s not pregnant. She’ll be back in Wyoming tonight and I’ll probably never see her again.”

  His mom tsked, but his dad shook his head. “That’s nonsense. She’ll be back. I could see in a second how good you were together. I haven’t seen you that relaxed and happy since you got home. You were like the old Gabe again.”

  “Ha. Right.” He looked at his mom, the lines around her eyes tight with worry and resignation. She’d been waiting her whole life for the man she loved to stop working so hard and give her some real time together. And she’d keep waiting.

  And his dad, so determined to make everything perfect and so sure of what was right for everyone that he couldn’t see how wrong he was. Even a brush with death hadn’t changed that. He was as stubborn as ever and Gabe was going to allow that to continue.

  He looked at both his parents and stood up a little straighter. “We need to talk,” he said. He was going to have to tell the whole truth. The kind of truth that no one wanted to hear. And for once, he couldn’t try to cushion the blow.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SHE WAS PROUD of herself. Truly, unequivocally proud. She’d met with her brand-new agent, recommended by a contact at her old paper, and they’d gone into that syndicate office with a strategy. Veronica hadn’t accepted a deal yet—waiting a week was part of the strategy—but she had an offer for fourteen newspapers, and she was going to take it. One more day and her agent would make the call.

  Veronica could move out of her dad’s apartment. She might even take a few classes toward that degree in psychology she’d been considering.

  And if she’d left a part of herself back in New York, well...there was nothing to be done about that.

  Losing Gabe made her happiness bittersweet, but she felt thankful, too. Thankful she hadn’t had him longer. Just a few weeks of Gabe and she was already marked, as if her body were covered in memories. She wondered if she’d still be able to feel him on her skin a year from now. Ten years from now. She wondered if she’d want to.

  She tugged on jeans and pulled on a tank top, hoping tonight’s crowd would accept a more casual Dear Veronica. Only slightly more casual, though. Her tank top sparkled with tiny black crystals and she added her blue half boots to dress the whole thing up.

  If Gabe were going to be there, maybe she’d have worn a dress, but the thought of showing off her thighs to a room without Gabe made her sad.

  Just as she was grabbing her purse to walk to the bar, her phone rang. When she saw it was her father, she almost didn’t pick up.

  She finally answered after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

  “I suppose you want me to come to the show,” her father said gruffly.

  Veronica frowned at her door. “What?”

  “Your show. I guess I should come and support you or you’ll accuse me of not caring.”

  “Dad...” She shook her head in utter confusion. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. My show can get a little inappropriate.”

  “Yes, I’ve noticed that from your columns,” he snapped.

  She took a deep breath and braced herself for the lecture. But it didn’t come.

  “I guess you know what you’re doing,” he grumbled. “Give the audience what they want. That’s why you got that offer.”

  “Um...yes?” she agreed, hating the doubt in her voice but too confused to leave it behind. She tried to think of something else to say into the silence, but he finally filled it.

  “All right. Just remember that I offered. Are we still on for dinner tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  “See you then,” he said, and hung up. She pulled the phone from her ear and frowned at it.

  “Okay,” she whispered. That had been really weird. Her dad was actually trying. Maybe she should have stood up to him a long time ago. Maybe he really hadn’t known how terrible he’d been to her.

  Veronica set off for the Three Martini Ranch with a quick prayer of thanks that her dad hadn’t simply shown up to hear her opinions on open relationships or safe sex. But she was glad he’d called. It was a nice confidence boost even if she didn’t need one. He was her only family and he was trying.

  The bar was as crowded as she’d ever seen it, but for the first time, Veronica didn’t rush to the office to hide. She walked around and said hi to a few people, then found herself at a table of Gabe’s friends, talking to Benton about his nephew.

  She felt normal. Not terrified. Not even nervous really, though she was a little afraid that Benton might ask about Gabe. She couldn’t talk about Gabe.

  Compared to that prospect, getting up to give live advice to an audience was easy.

  Half an hour later, she was at the microphone talking about the complicated mechanics of negotiating holidays when both partners had step-children and in-laws and former in-laws. She wished she’d brought a chalkboard so she could diagram it. Modern holidays could be a minefield.

  The next question was from a bride who was trying to plan a wedding while feuding with her sisters, and Veronica was beginning to feel as though she’d gotten a good deal by not having a big, raucous family like Gabe’s. If she ever got married, it would likely be a quiet ceremony in her dad’s courtroom. Unless, of course, her future husband came from a New York family and had older sisters and— She shoved that thought away and moved on to a query about female orgasms.

  That question took a while to answer thanks to a few shouted follow-ups from the crowd, and by the time it was done, Veronica realized that she was already forty-five minutes into the show. She’d normally start wrapping it up now, winding down with one last question or maybe two if she had to. But tonight she spread another five questions out on the table. Tonight she wasn’t just getting this over with. She wasn’t eyeing the hallway and planning her escape. She was loving it.

  Laughing, she read a question about safe sex aloud and said another silent thank-you to her dad for not just showing up.

  “Here’s the thing. If your partner is that adamant about not using condoms, then he’s the guy who talks every single partner into not bothering with a condom. He’s also the guy who’s happy when his random hookup doesn’t ask for a condom. That’s who your man is. That’s what you’re putting your mouth on. Would you put your mouth on a bathroom doorknob? Would you put your vagina on that doorknob? Well then, don’t put it on his penis.”

  She cringed a little when she saw the reaction of a couple at a front table. The man’s arms were crossed tight and he was glaring at the floor. The woman with him wasn’t smiling, either. Her mouth was twisted in disgust, and her eyes slid to the side to watch his reaction. Veronica had never so clearly identified one of the writers before. She cleared her throat and reached for the next letter.

  She paused when she saw Benton approaching. “Oh, hi,” she said in surprise when he stepped up to her.

  “I have an emergency Dear Veronica letter. Would you read it? As a favor?” He made a begging motion with his hands and gave her a puppy-eyed look that she suspected had charmed many a woman.

  It totally worked. The man was damn near irresistible. “Okay,” she said, taking the letter carefully from his finge
rs.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” she said into the microphone. “But you have to take a few chances in life.” She unfolded the paper and smiled.

  “‘Dear Veronica, I’ve completely screwed up with a woman I really like. We’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I think we’ve got something truly amazing.’”

  The crowd reacted with an “Aww” that she joined in on.

  “That’s sweet,” she said, “But I have a feeling there’s a plot twist coming. ‘She’s perfect. Beautiful and smart and a little dorky.’” Veronica laughed. “Oh, my God, she is perfect!” She looked quickly over the room, trying to pick out Benton and see the girl he was with, but she couldn’t find him.

  “‘But...’” she started again, then shook her head. “See, there is always a ‘but’! ‘But I wasn’t completely truthful when we started dating, and worse than that, I was a coward. I walked away from her when I shouldn’t have. I gave up on myself and on her. So here’s my question, Veronica...’”

  The nape of her neck started tingling. She swallowed hard and swept the room again, not even sure what she was looking for.

  “‘If I...’” The words were hoarse. She cleared her throat. “‘If I left New York and moved back to Jackson, would she give me another chance? Just a small one?’”

  Her heart felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds as she looked up. As if it was falling and pulling her stomach and her breath and her thoughts down with it. This time she didn’t have to look around the room. Gabe was standing right there in the middle of the tables. She stared at him. She couldn’t move. Her heart was too heavy to lift.

  The crowd began to murmur. All eyes turned to Gabe as he stepped forward.

  “Would she give him another chance?” Gabe asked just loudly enough for her to hear.

  Veronica shook her head.

  “No?” he asked softly.

  She felt the eyes of the crowd focus on her now. She set down the letter. “I suppose they... I suppose they’d need to talk.”

  “But she’d be willing to listen?”