Page 21 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

W hen 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 looked 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 word 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 his ex-wife 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 but 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?

And you accused Kate of overthinking things.

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 do that.”

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. “An odd thing to forget, 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 now, 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.