Burned Hearts (13 page)

Eventually, he said, “Damn, baby. You made a mess.”

I laughed. “That's the problem when you're not here with me.”

“That's going to change soon.”

I'd long since stopped hanging my hat on that hope. No one could really predict how long the trials would last or when the verdicts would come in.

As I thought of this, I heard the faucet running in the background, then Dane said, “Again, this is less than ideal.”

“Don't grumble. You just had an orgasm.”

“It's not the same without you.”

“I know. But nothing to scoff at. I feel wonderful.”

“Glad to be of service.”

“Too bad that hunky body of yours isn't curled around me.”

“I'll make it up to you for the next several decades.”

I smiled. “I'm definitely holding you to that.”

“You didn't just cringe and think, ‘Oh, fuck, I'm stuck with this guy for the rest of my life'?”

“No, I just got another thrill over being stuck with this guy for the rest of my life.”

He grunted. “I wouldn't go that far, all things considered.”

I knew he thought of our current predicament and our last conversation. I chose to think beyond it all. “I would.”

“You and your silver linings.”

“They've worked out well for me thus far. You'll come back safely to us, Dane. That's all I want. All I need.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you more.”

“Not a chance.”

I settled deeper in the covers and said, “I don't want to hang up, but we shouldn't stay on the line any longer.”

“I'll call you when I can.”

“Be careful.”

“You, too.”

 

chapter 7

My dad visited the following week, despite initial instruction otherwise. He'd said it was urgent that he see me.

I'd been alarmed from the moment he'd called the landline, so the first words out of my mouth when he came through the front door were, “Are you okay? What's happened?”

He did a double take at me in my yoga suit and blurted, “Wow, you're about to have that kid!”

“Not yet.” Though I'd finally popped. “Another six weeks.”

He whistled. “I'm thinking linebacker.”

“Me or the kid?”

With a kiss on the cheek, my father said, “You look fantastic, as always. I guess I just wasn't expecting you to be so, so—”

“Big?” I offered.

“Well.” Holding his hands out, he seemed to sort of gauge the size of my belly. “You went from not-so-much there a little over a month ago to
oh, wow—you really
are
pregnant!
”

“You don't know the half of it. Feet and ankles swollen, nothing fits. I'm
this close
to resorting to wearing Dane's drawstring pants and T-shirts.” Not that I didn't already wear his Henleys with my stretchy yoga pants to bed.

As we left the foyer and entered the great room, my dad chuckled. “You've even got the waddle down pat.”

“Would it be rude of me to say
shut up
?”

He laughed heartier. “I'd find your sarcasm biting were it not for the fact that you are beaming. Seriously, sweets, you glowed the last time I saw you. Now you have this incredible brightness that really suits you.”

“He kicks now. Like, a lot. I love it. Every time my mind wanders to Dane being gone or some other dreary thing, he gives me a jolt and I get giddy over the fact that I have this tiny person inside me, demanding my attention.” I patted my stomach. “He's a bit hyperactive, but so awesome.”

My dad kissed my forehead. “You're going to be a wonderful mom.”

“Time will tell. Now, what's going on? You said it was urgent.”

His good mood instantly dissipated. “Speaking of moms.”

My spirits plummeted as well. “Oh, no.”

“Oh, yeah.”

We took the sofa in front of the fire and Rosa served me iced tea and my dad a beer. He sucked down half of it before continuing. That was alarming unto itself.

“You're making me nervous,” I told him.

He set aside his pilsner. “So she has this crazy idea about writing a book.”

“That again?”

His gaze snapped to me. “You know about this?”

Uh-oh
. “Um. Sort of?”

“Ari.” He reached for the beer and drained it. That pretty much summed up his state of mind. My father wasn't a big drinker. Unless it was Dane's fifty-year-old scotch. “Do you
really
know what she's up to?”

“Sadly, yes. Except, I don't think there's actually a book, Dad. It's a threat.”

He whipped out his cell and handed it over. “Scroll through.”

The pages were already pulled up in his e-mail, and I skimmed the first chapter of drivel. Trashy drivel. Name-dropping, party-hopping, designer-wearing Mother in all her “
fab
ulous” glory. She'd glammed herself to the hilt and dove right into the famous men she'd slept with while my dad was on his PGA tours.

Anxiety roiled through me. Along with disgust and a hell of a lot
I could have been spared the details and been a happier person for it
.

I gave him the phone back. “Dad, that's disgusting.” I was sure my mother-to-be radiance died on the vine. “She seriously got around.”

“While you were still in diapers.”

I blanched. “She started
that
early in your marriage?”

“Fool on me, right?”

“Dad, no.” I was infuriated. I got to my swollen feet and started to pace. “I knew she'd cheated because of your arguments, but from the beginning? And with how many men in total? No.” I raised a hand. “Don't tell me. I don't want to know; you don't want to say it out loud. Damn, Dad. This is such crap.” I shook my head. My fists balled at my sides. “I get that it's somehow cool these days for nannies and porn stars to Tweet and Facebook about their celebrity affairs, even if the celebrity is married. Somehow there's no backlash for them when they start shopping their tell-all books. So what does my mother have to lose?”

“I didn't come here to upset you, Ari. Sit down.”

“No, Dad. I'm not upset—I'm livid. Because she came to me claiming that she'd write a book about her exploits and she demanded money to keep her quiet.”

“Aria.” He eyed me with that concerned-father look that made my heart hurt. “Do not tell me you gave her a penny. Not one red cent.”

“Dad.” I plopped back onto the sofa. “What else could I do? Let her launch her tales so that everyone on the planet found out she betrayed you? No way.”

He suddenly sprang to his feet, anger rolling off him in waves. “I only came to give you a head's-up. This is not
yours
to deal with, Ari.”

“Yes, it is, Dad. When she's trying to attack you and there's the tiniest bit of hope that I can thwart her, of course I'm going to do whatever I can. It's just never enough.” I stood again, thoroughly irritated. How could I even be related to this woman? “Look, when she first knocked on my door, it was for five grand. I gave it to her.”

“Sweets.” His eyes squeezed shut briefly. “That is
not
your responsibility.”

“You're my dad,” I countered as fury and pain rose within me. Along with the shame that
my mother
should feel over her adulterous actions—but which she clearly considered juicy and scintillating instead. Not embarrassing or slutty, at all. Because of the famous names she could associate herself with; somehow they elevated her above scarlet-letter status?

I asked, “What was I going to do? Let her gut you all over again? No. I lived with your agony. For
years
. If there is anything I can do to keep her from tormenting you once more, I'll do it. In a heartbeat. But this is her third attempt, Dad—”

“What?”
He stared at me, incredulous.

I forced myself to unclench my fists. No simple task.

“Number three, Dad. And we're going to have to figure out how to make it her final attempt. There has to be something we can do. Soon. Because if she ever finds out I'm married to Dane she'll never stop coming at us.”

He lifted his hands in the air and said, “So maybe I just need to say it doesn't matter, Ari.”

“What doesn't matter?”

“If she wants to tell the world what a whore she is, let her.” I knew that one word hurt him greatly—because he'd been in love with my mother. Yet he accurately called the spade a spade.

“Dad, as much as I appreciate your desire to simplify this, that viewpoint isn't what's really at stake. No one's going to balk at how many professional athletes she slept with—the egg will be on your face, not hers. And I can't let that happen.”

“Just because I was married to her at the time—”

“It's
all
about the fact that you were married to her at the time. Despite how solid
you
were in the relationship, she'll twist the cheating around to be a
woe is me
thing.
He left me lonely; what else was I to do?
or some such shit. You know her. That's her favorite device. She excels at evoking sympathy. In the long run, you'll be the heel and she'll reap all the reward.”

It was all I could do not to erupt in a fit of rage, but my dad didn't need that at the moment. What he needed was the reassurance
I
could give him.

“I'll take care of it.”

“Ari, this isn't your—”

“Dad, just let me do this. I have the money. I can give her more than her greedy little mind could possibly fathom and then—”

“You said you tried that before.”

“It'll be different this time. I'll put Jackson on this. Trust me, when he's done with Mommie Dearest we won't hear from her ever again.”

“Ari.” He stared at me for endless seconds. As though trying to figure out who I was.

I flinched. Okay, I'd officially done it. Gone to my own dark and dangerous spectrum, the way Dane sometimes did. The way I abhorred him doing if it meant he was about to cross a line he shouldn't.

There was so much of me that was like him. I understood his need to protect me because I felt that same pull. With him. Our child. Kyle. My dad. This whole new family unit of mine.

I would have taken a step back from all of this, except for two things. One, Dane and Kyle had both come to my aid when my mother had threatened my reputation as much as my father's. And two, I absolutely wouldn't have him wrecked again by her. Not
ever
again.

This time, I'd put a halt to her scheming in a way that would ensure she never came back to haunt us. In fact, I should have thought of it sooner. Yet when she'd first turned up I hadn't been deeply involved with Dane, nor had I fully grasped the concept of my own parent blackmailing me.

I got it now.

“Dad,” I said, projecting a calmer visage and tone. “I know what she's after. Not just fifteen minutes of fame. She needs an ego boost because you ended up with a great post-pro career as GM of an exclusive, private club she'll
never
get into and I moved on from her. She can't afford country club memberships, and I'm sure that kills her. So she's put out this ridiculous cry for help. We'll give it to her.”

“I don't want you handing over yours or Dane's money, Ari.”

“Don't worry about it, Dad. I just need you to do me a huge favor. I can't access the Internet all that often—you know, with the whole making certain we're not hacked/compromised thing we've got going on in this house. So I'll need you to keep your ear to the ground and make sure she's not leaking teasers about a book or, God forbid, stalking Oprah to read her tell-all.”

His head jerked back. “Oprah?”

“Yeah. Mother's a fan. Anyway, just eyes and ears open. I can't manage all of that.”

“No problem. I'll Google Alert her.”

I started. “You know how to do that?”

“I have favorite PGA contenders to keep up on and that's the best way when I'm on the course so often, rather than strapped to my desk.”

“Right. Of course. My tech-savvy dad.” Even I didn't know how to Google Alert. “Anyway, we can double-team her. She's not getting the best of either of us.”

He still didn't look all that comfortable with my new, aggressive demeanor. But I'd been backed into the corner too many times to let it happen again.

*   *   *

Two days later, Kyle came into the office, wearing nothing but his white pants from karate class with Amano and a towel around his neck. His muscles seemed to be more sculpted with every day that passed. He plopped into a chair as I rushed about. Relatively speaking. I wasn't exactly zippy in my pregnant state.

After five or so minutes, he asked, “Do I even want to know this time?”

“Probably not.”

“That's what scares me.”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “You need athletic outlets; I need mental ones.”

“Yeah, but why do I get the feeling you're mock-auditioning for
Castle
?”

“Nothing like that. Not really.”

Liar
.

Turning back to the wall, where I had photos and yarn from Rosa's sewing basket strewn everywhere, I explained the method to my madness, partially coinciding with the Lux rebuild.

“So.” I gestured to the top row of four pictures. “Dane, Ethan, Qadir, Nikolai. Good guys of the secret society.” I indicated the level below them. “Hilliard, Avril, Casterelli, Wellington. Bad guys.” Then swept my arm to the right. “Bent and Vale. Dead guys.”

Kyle leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “What's with the two crescent moons abutting each other with the circle in the middle?”