Page 42 of Fierce Love (Tucker Billionaires)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hollyn

W e’re in the studio prepping our designs for the sixth show, Posey next to my shoulder, her own design program up on the screen for me to peer at.

The trick is usually to make our designs different enough to present a real choice while also adhering to whoever was “supposed” to win and keeping in mind what the family wants. A lot of balls to juggle.

Most of the time, I really enjoy how this job sparks my brain.

Each time I formulate a new house plan, I feel lit up, brimming with possibilities.

The challenges and roadblocks are exciting most of the time, rather than frustrating.

Every single episode, I’ve learned something new about Bellerive, about the family we were helping, about sourcing materials on the island, or about someone involved in the production.

Had anyone told me I'd like this job when I'd taken it, I probably would have disagreed. I took the role for Kinsley, but it has turned out to be good for me too.

“Eight episodes,” Posey says beside me with a sigh while she plucks out high-end finishes to put in her inspiration board. “Why not the full twelve? Doesn’t that seem like they lack confidence in the show?”

“It’s two more than what we were supposed to have for the base,” I say.

“I know. But this job is my dream—one I never thought I’d get to fulfill while staying in the country, so I’m just bummed that we might only get eight episodes in total. If we don’t get twelve episodes ordered, I’m nervous we won’t get a second season either.”

“Eight to ten episodes by streaming standards is pretty normal.” And I haven’t let myself think beyond this production.

I haven’t even given Posey a firm RSVP to her wedding in September.

With the youth adventure race at the end of August, I shouldn’t really stick around for another two weeks after that just to watch Posey get married when I’ll need to get back to work at Reyes and Cruz.

But she’s also become a really close friend. Flying back for the weekend is financially impossible.

“There’s no bachelorette party, right?” I click on another element and add it to my design, changing the color as I go.

“The Summersets threw us bachelor and bachelorette parties a long time ago. Been there, done that.” She lets out a little laugh.

“Honestly, I think it was just an excuse to go to Vegas for a boys’ weekend, but whatever.

Brent had fun there, and I had fun on the island.

As a bonus, it means we just cruise right into the wedding now. ”

“How early?”

She looks pensive. “Before Amelia was born. Brent and I waffled on the date at first, and then we finally committed to doing it just before his last Olympics.”

“Timing can be tricky, I guess.”

“Speaking of timing, you and Nathaniel seem to have gotten close,” she says, waggling her brows. “Again.”

I drag some furniture around the screen in front of me, trying to decide what to say. She’s been good about not prying, even though I’m sure Nate and I have been more obvious than I’d like to believe the last few weeks.

It’s impossible to switch off the sexual chemistry when it’s happening constantly all over our shared house.

The minute Kinsley is gone somewhere else—training, off with a friend, looking after the puppies—Nate and I are all over each other.

The dickmatizing that happened when I was a teenager has come back in full force.

And if the circumstances around the two of us were different, that might be a joy.

Whenever I think about what we’re doing, all I feel is anxiety about the end.

Which might be another reason I haven’t told Posey a firm yes or no for the wedding.

I hate thinking about leaving, but with my parents and with Celia, staying is impossible.

I can’t protect Kin or myself from the fallout that staying would bring.

At least in New York, none of those people are factors.

“Nate and I come from opposite backgrounds,” I hedge.

“Do you think that matters when you’re in your thirties? I could see when you were kids that it would have mattered a lot. But now?”

“We just think about things differently.”

“Doesn’t everyone? We’re all a product of our environment, and even two kids raised in the same house don’t take the same lessons from their experiences.”

“You and Julia?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she says with a little laugh. “Or, you know, we become traumatized by our older sister’s romantic trauma and take years to extend our own heart.

” She slides a couch into a different position from where I’ve put mine and changes the color on the walls on her screen to bright pink in the living room.

“Now that I’m older, I can see that Jules and Nick’s biggest problem was getting out of their own way. Communication is vital.”

“What if the thing you need to communicate would fundamentally change the way someone looks at you?”

Posey clicks on a few other things, switching between screens before hitting save.

Later, we’ll export our designs to the iPad, which is what we use to show them on-screen to our clients.

The designs are also turned into a video file by someone else, and that gets slotted into the episode.

All these logistics, most people never consider when they watch a show.

She turns toward me. “You’re afraid to tell Nate something about why you left the island as a kid? Do you want to tell me first? Maybe it’ll help to talk it through.”

There are three people who know the complete truth, and one of those people is no longer here to tell it.

The idea of unleashing all of it on Posey is strangely appealing, but I know I can’t.

Part of the deal I made, the one that both saved me and damned me, required me to keep my mouth shut. Forever.

“I can’t tell anyone,” I say.

She gives me a pensive look. “Then it must have something to do with Celia Tucker. She’d be the only one who’d demand absolute silence.”

That’s a speculation I’m not going to bother confirming or denying, instead I turn back to my computer and try to focus on the design for the next episode. Posey’s design can be outlandish, but mine needs to be on the money.

“You don’t think Nathaniel deserves to know his mother ran you off the island?” Posey’s voice is gentle.

“She didn’t run me off the island. I went willingly.” Then I pin my lips together, determined not to let anything more spill out. Celia is just as dangerous as my mother when crossed.

“That could mean all sorts of things where she’s concerned,” Posey says, her tone ominous, and it’s clear she’s familiar with Celia Tucker’s modes of operation.

But I don’t blame his mom for what happened; I only blame myself.

She didn’t put a gun to my head or hold me over a barrel or any of the other metaphors I could dig up to make her at fault for my choices.

I’d love to lay it all at Celia’s feet, but I can’t.

Things got fucked up, and I tried to fix it, and in fixing it, I fucked things up in a different way.

Nate was the price I paid, and I don’t think he’ll ever be able to forgive me for that.

“If the past is actually what’s holding you back from being with Nathaniel more permanently, from signing on for a second season if we get one, from saying yes to my wedding, then maybe you need to reconsider what’s most important to you .”

The thing is, I already weighed those scales fourteen years ago, and there’s no way to go back and rebalance them. And despite how much the truth hurts, I’m not even sure if I would.