Page 22 of At the Heart of It (The Can’t Have Hearts Club #4)

“She said you told her I’d be at Alki Park the other day,” he said, not bothering to mention the other two times he’d seen Kate alone. “That you sent her there to talk to me.”

“I wouldn’t say I sent her there, exactly.” Viv sipped her own water. “I did suggest to her that you might be more open to persuasion from someone besides me.” She smiled and leaned forward just a little. “I also might have suggested she undo a button or two on her blouse.”

Jonah gripped his water glass tighter. “She wasn’t wearing a blouse with buttons.”

“Oh, so you noticed?”

Jonah wanted to hurl his glass at the wall, but he settled for draining the contents and refilling it. Viv’s, too, since he was a goddamn gentleman. He sat back on the sofa and wondered how much longer he had to make conversation.

“Did I tell you how Kate persuaded me to do the show?” Viv asked.

“Did it involve undoing buttons? Because I’ve gotta say, I think girl-on-girl stuff would resonate well with cable TV viewers.”

Viv ignored him and slid her silky ponytail from one shoulder to the other, then tucked her bare feet up onto the chair.

“She wrote me the most amazing fan letter,” Viv said. “Truly, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Jonah thought of the passion in Kate’s eyes when she’d told him about the concept for the show. About the heartfelt explanations she’d given over pizza at the Cat Café. “I can see that,” he said, then took another sip of water.

“She didn’t come right out with her request at first,” Viv said.

“But she explained her job and asked if she could fly me out to LA for an all-expense-paid trip. Said she had something she wanted to talk to me about. And get this—the hotel where she set me up was the same one I talked about in But Not Broken . The scene where I flew out and met with the shaman who?—”

“Right, I remember.”

“Of course you do. Anyway, the whole trip was like that. Kate picking up on little details—my favorite wine, a significant quotation, having hydrangeas on the table at dinner because she knows I love them—all the little things that showed she was a serious student of my work and not just a casual fan.”

Viv had the good grace to blush at that, and Jonah wondered if she’d been working on sounding less pretentious. She might have her faults, but Viv was pretty good at identifying her own weaknesses and looking for ways to improve.

He took another sip of water and wondered if he was supposed to add to this conversation or just let Viv talk.

“Anyway,” she continued. “When it came time for her to do the real pitch, Kate pulled out all the stops. Every persuasive technique she used, every communication strategy—it was straight out of my books. It’s like she was not only making her case for why I should do the show, but why I should pick her to produce it. ”

“That must have been flattering.”

“Yes. Well. That’s Kate for you. Knows exactly what buttons to push to make things happen. I admire her tremendously for that.”

Jonah nodded, searching his ex-wife’s face for a bigger sign of that admiration. It was there, of course. But so was something else. Something Jonah couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“Oh!” Viv clapped her hands together and stood up. “I almost forgot—I bought some of those sourdough scones you used to love so much. The ones we used to eat with the honey butter? They’re staying warm in the oven right now. Let me go grab those.”

She bustled out before Jonah could argue that he wasn’t in the mood for scones. He wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened in that conversation, but he knew he probably shouldn’t let his guard down. Not with Viv, not with anyone, really.

He glanced at his watch and wondered how much longer he had to wait before Kate would arrive. She’d texted this morning when he was in the shower, and Jonah had read the message while standing naked on the bathmat dripping water onto the screen.

Don’t stress about what to wear today.

That’s what she’d written, even though Jonah had been doing no such thing.

Jeans and a T-shirt are fine. Or long-sleeved flannel. Or solid colors. Just no busy prints.

Jonah had smiled to himself and typed a response before winding a towel around his waist.

You mean I’m not required to be shirtless like I am when I walk dogs?

There had been a long pause, and Jonah wondered if he’d crossed a line. When her response popped up, he’d laughed out loud.

LOL! Camera crew has been discussing what you’d look like shirtless and whether you’d do it for TV. They didn’t believe me when I said I witnessed it firsthand. Kinda wish I’d nabbed a photo of you at the park.

He’d hesitated, not wanting to read too much into that.

But hell, it wasn’t like he didn’t parade around shirtless all the time.

He’d aimed his phone camera at the mirror, careful not to shoot anything but his torso.

Fired off a couple shots, then glanced at the screen, making sure he hadn’t gone too low or captured his messy bathroom counter.

Then he’d pulled up his text exchange with Kate, attached an image, and hit “Send” before he had a chance to change his mind.

Holy shit!!!

She’d texted him back less than two seconds later.

You just made my morning.

Before Jonah could respond, she followed up with another message.

I meant that in a purely professional way. OMG. The camera crew will be delighted. That’s assuming it’s okay to share?

Share away

He’d replied with a weird mixture of pride, embarrassment, and longing.

“Here we go!” Viv swept back into the room and presented the scones with a dramatic flourish. She set down a small stack of plates in varying hues of yellow and robin’s-egg blue, along with a small white bowl of honey butter with a tiny spoon in it.

“Thanks,” Jonah mumbled as he helped himself to a scone. He felt awkward and out of sorts. Part of him wanted to be guarded about any show of kindness from his ex-wife. Hadn’t that always come with a price before?

But part of him—the part he really wanted to embrace—felt like a jerk for not giving her the benefit of the doubt. They’d be working together, after all. Maybe he should make more of an effort to mend fences.

He slathered butter on his scone and tried to come up with a suitable olive branch.

“Thanks for being gracious about this,” he said.

“I don’t mean the scones.” He cleared his throat and looked at her, noticing she wore a guarded expression.

“I know it wasn’t your idea to have me as part of the show.

I know deep down, it probably pisses you off that the network insisted on dragging me into this. ”

Something flickered in her eyes. He watched in that split second she wavered between denying any angst and acknowledging that yeah, she was mad as fuck.

She settled for a tight nod. “Thank you.” She lifted her water glass. “Here’s to making the best of things, even when they don’t work out the way we expected.”

“Cheers to that,” Jonah agreed.

It was probably the last time they’d be agreeing on much for a while. If the network got what they wanted, Viv and Jonah would be at each other’s throats for the foreseeable future. It’s how they seemed to want this show to go.

Across the table, Viv picked up a scone and began the delicate process of slathering it with honey butter. “Anything you want to discuss before all the network people start showing up?” she asked. “I don’t imagine we’ll have much time after this for private conversation.”

She probably meant the show. About casting or protocol or what sort of boundaries they wanted to set.

But what came out of his mouth had nothing to do with the show. “Why did you give up?”

Viv’s mouth opened and closed, then opened again. It was clear she hadn’t expected the question. Hell, Jonah was surprised by it himself.

“On our marriage, you mean?”

Jonah gave a tight nod, then took a bite of his scone.

He chewed for a long time, trying to formulate his next words a little better than he’d formed the question.

“I’m not asking because I’m bitter or pissed off or because I’m sitting over here pining for you like some sort of lovesick fuck,” he said.

“I think it’s pretty clear we’re both over each other. ”

“Certainly.”

Was that sarcasm in her voice? Jonah refused to take the bait, so Viv took a deep breath and set down her scone.

“We had a great four years together,” she said. “Five, if you count the year before we married. Truly, I thought we’d stay together forever. Eventually, though?—”

“You lost feelings for me?”

There was a hard edge to the question, and Jonah hoped she heard it the right way. Not as an accusation, but as a shared joke.

“In our case, it wasn’t code for I’m boning someone else , as you so eloquently put it in the meeting.” Viv looked down at her scone. “I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

She looked up at him, and the earnestness in her expression made his chest feel tight. “I’m not fucking with you,” he said. “I believe you when you say there wasn’t anyone else.”

“Thank you.”

“But can you tell me what it was?”

She was quiet a long time, and Jonah wondered why he’d never had the balls to press for answers before.

Sure, they’d talked about it before. When she’d asked for the divorce, she’d buried him in piles of psych-sounding words about the evolution of feelings and the inherent challenges of cohabitation.

But he’d never flat-out asked why .

“I guess when you get married for such a fragile reason, there’s always a risk.”

“When you get married for sex?”

The corner of her mouth tipped up just a little, but she didn’t smile.

“Love,” she said. “I did love you, Jonah. But we humans have so little control over who we fall in love with in the first place. That also makes us powerless against falling out of love.” She bit her lip.

“Obviously you can work at it. That’s what I teach people, of course. ”

“Of course,” he murmured, though he couldn’t help noticing she’d framed it as an afterthought.