Charming You (Thirsty Hearts Book 1) (9 page)

"What the fuck is this?"

Vivienne teared up, her lip trembling. "I made a mistake."

"'Oops, I kissed a woman'? You bumped into her, and your tongue slipped into her mouth? That's what you're telling me?"

"No. I…I was at a nightclub. And—"

"A nightclub? Which one?"

"Mary Sue's," Vivienne whispered hoarsely.

"You accidentally went to a lesbian bar?"

"I said it was a mistake. I didn't say it was an accident." Vivienne's downcast eyes narrowed in haughty exasperation. Always the diva. That's his Vivienne. Only she wasn't his. Was she?

"Are you gay?"

"No. Of course not. It's just that, um, I've experimented. I went to Mary Sue's with my friend Becky. She's gay. I got a little drunk."

The jangle of excuses flew at Nick so fast, he couldn't sort them out. The way she talked about experimenting sounded like more than a one-time thing. He knew women sometimes made out with each other at straight bars thinking it was cute, but that's not what this was.

"Here's what. You look me in the eye and tell me that you don't want to have sex with women. Do that, and we can keep talking."

Vivienne glared at him. "I have no intention of having sex with women. I'm engaged to you, and I want to marry you."

"That's the wrong answer, Viv. That's not what I asked." Nick turned away and stormed toward the door.

"Nick, wait."

"I can't be here right now. I'm going to say something I regret."

He kept walking until he got to his car, and then he drove. He didn't go home. He didn't call anyone. He just drove. His cell phone persistently pinged and buzzed, but he ignored it, knowing that if he answered he'd have to face the destruction of everything he thought he'd built.

N
ick finally made
it home that night and drank himself silly, accomplishing nothing but giving him a wicked hangover that rendered work intolerable.

He had meetings all day with his partners to strategize for Moran Financial. Everyone around him kept referring to Tom Moran as his future father-in-law. At the end of the session, Bob Stratford told him, "Be sure to keep the man in a good mood, will you? I'm not convinced this is all going to go his way. And you know how he gets when things don't go his way."

Nick swallowed hard. What the hell was he going to do?

He didn't want to talk to Vivienne, but fifty messages and texts from her reminded him that they weren't done. Not yet.

In between his anger and confusion, he'd wondered who had taken the pictures and what their game was. Nick's future depended on making partner. Unfortunately, he'd been foolish enough to link his partnership prospects to his personal life. Avoiding Vivienne would solve nothing. Only she had the answers he needed.

So, he called her and agreed to come back to her house for round two of the worst "we need to talk" relationship conversation he'd ever had.

Walking back into her house felt like a death march. She had another Scotch waiting for him, and he wasted no time downing it. They sat on her sofa, staring at each other. Vivienne folded her legs underneath her, turned sideways to look at him.

"Thanks for coming back tonight. I wasn't sure if I'd end up waiting for days or weeks —"

Nick turned sideways himself and gripped the back of the sofa. "Or months. That's what you did to me. You left me hanging, Vivienne. Why is that?"

"The pictures. UPS delivered them to my design studio about four months ago, and I panicked. I've been frozen. I had no idea what to do. But, Nick, what I finally realized was that you and I could handle this together."

Nothing she said allayed his suspicions. "I need to get specific. What are we handling? Have you received any demands?"

"Not at first. I got those pictures. Then, I got this note." Vivienne handed Nick a piece of paper.

"Did they contact you again?"

"Yes. This time, they named their price. Five hundred thousand dollars, which I don't have."

"What timeframe?"

"They didn't say. They just said they'd be in touch. That was a month ago. I've been going crazy. Finally, I knew I had to tell you."

"Why not just go to your father? A, he has the money. B, he'd eat this person for lunch."

"I cannot tell my parents."

Vivienne strangely seemed more distraught about telling her parents than dealing with a blackmailer. Whomever this was chose their target well.

"You could go to the police."

"That's just another way of telling my father," Vivienne whined miserably. "I'm telling you because you're the only one I can trust. Plus, you're an attorney. I thought you could help."

Nick leaned closer to her, putting his left hand on her knee. Nick had thought about their relationship all night. The blackmail shocked him. He still couldn't believe she hadn't spoken to him for months. However, Vivienne's being gay—nothing. No shock. Only anger at having been such a fool. The truth struck him plain as day now, but he needed her to say it.

"Here's the thing, Vivienne. If this is all a single drunken mistake, why the secrecy?"

"I…It…"

"Don't lie to me anymore."

Vivienne lost herself, and sobs overtook her. Nick wrapped his arms around her, and she sank into him. Not knowing what to say, he simply held her. Her quivering triggered his protective instinct even as his mind turned over the depth of her lies.

She had pretended to be interested, pretended to want the same things. Maybe she was also lying to herself, but she had sent him down a rabbit hole while he had steadily pushed their relationship forward.

Nick tensed, contemplating her betrayal.

Vivienne mewed. "I can't expect you to understand."

"I understand that you were kissing a woman and letting her slide into third base. That wasn't a one-time thing. Can't you just admit it?"

Vivienne's pale eyes shined. She didn't speak.

"You have nothing to say." Nick felt his anger burn again. "We've been dating—sleeping together—for over a year, and you call me to your house to show me lesbian blackmail pictures and beg for my help. But you don't think I'm owed any explanation. Boy, you are definitely a Moran."

"Fuck you, Nick. Do you have any idea how hard this is for me? I'm humiliated."

Nick snorted. "More or less humiliated than finding out that the best way you have to save your relationship is to have a sex change."

She glared at him. "This isn't a joke. I'm not a joke."

"No, you're a liar."

"I never lied to you. I wanted to be with you. I still do. Those pictures don't change that."

"But they do, Vivienne. I can't pretend like I didn't see them. Or that I didn't see how much more passionate you were in those grainy, fucking Bigfoot-quality pictures than you've ever been with me."

"And that's my fault?" Vivienne's snide tone barely concealed her defensiveness.

"Well, it isn't mine, sweetheart. So, why don't you just tell the truth. How many times have you 'experimented' as you call it?"

Vivienne flushed and pursed her lips. "Lots of women have liaisons with other women in college and what not. It's not a big deal."

"So, those pictures are from college?"

"No."

"When were they taken?"

Vivienne paused. "December. A few days before we went to Paris."

"A few days before I proposed to you?"

"Yes, but I haven't been with a woman since. I swear."

"But you were with women before we got engaged."

"I don't ask you about your past lovers, and I don't see how rehashing mine does any good."

Her evasions galled him. Somehow, she convinced herself that her sexual orientation didn't matter. To Vivienne, being gay was a side note to their potential marriage. Nick could only shake his head.

"You're telling me that you aren't gay."

"Why do you have to label everything? Isn't it enough that I'm committed to you?

"No," he barked. "It isn't. I want a real marriage with a woman who wants me. I deserve that, and frankly, so do you."

"We make an amazing team, Nick. I can help you make partner. Don't you want that?"

"What are you talking about? Forget everything else, Viv. Perception. Ambition. Even this blackmailer. In your heart of hearts, who are you?"

"You're reducing all of who I am to sex."

"No. I'm asking you, for the love of God, to be honest with me."

Her shoulders slumped, and tears sprang back into her eyes. "I don't say it out loud."

"Why not?"

"Because that can't be my life. My life is with you."

The sadness of Vivienne's proclamation made Nick's stomach clench.

Visions of the life he'd thought they'd have together went up in smoke—the home, the house full of kids, and Vivienne as the perfect companion.

He'd figured it was the time to settle down and, once and for all, find the one right woman for his life—not just for the night. All signs pointed to Vivienne. With her, his life had started falling into place. Was he that foolish? Or was she that great at pretending? Probably both, but it couldn't continue.

"No. Your life is not with me. I can't marry you. You know that. You knew it when you decided to ask for my help. That's why you waited so long. I'll help you with this…this person who's after you, but I'm not going to marry you. We have to call off the wedding. We need to put a stop to this right now. I'm sitting around in limbo with people who don't know we were having trouble asking me if we've set a date. My mom keeps giving me pitying looks. Hell, I've got your father pestering me to make sure I get you down the aisle."

Nick rambled on, not realizing Vivienne had stayed silent until he caught her watching him with a look of determination that confused him.

"What?" he prompted.

"Do we have to?"

"Have to what?"

"Call off the wedding."

"Are you out of your mind? Of course, we do. I can't marry you."

Vivienne's lip trembled, but she pressed on.

"Why not?"

"Because you're a lesbian! And I have a penis! Or didn't you notice?"

"It doesn't change how good we are together. You said it yourself a million times. We fit."

"That was before I knew you were gay. I was wrong. Clearly."

"Were you? What makes us work is that we want the same things."

Nick smirked. "No. Ironically, that's what makes us not work."

"Stop and think for a second, Nick. The life that we wanted, we can still have. I can still be a great wife to you. We get along. We make each other laugh. We're friends. Our sex life isn't great, but we already knew that. We still make a good team."

"Being buddies is not a reason to get married."

"No, but over the long haul, working toward the same goals is. You may not believe it, but I do love you, Nick." Vivienne touched his arm, and Nick yanked it back.

"That's not the kind of love I want. We'll never be happy if what you want is another woman. And, I want someone who wants me. I can't live my life without feeling that."

Nick thought about the compromises he'd been willing to make. Suddenly, it all seemed questionable even without considering Vivienne's sexuality. How had he gotten to the point where he was so blindly focused on his career and his social standing that he'd accepted having a marriage without passion?

"Some couples have arrangements," she said. "They make allowances for each other."

"You sleep with other women. I sleep with other women. That's what you call a marriage?"

"There are all kinds of marriages, Nick." Vivienne sniffled, peering down her pert, aristocratic nose.

"I don't want an unconventional marriage with built-in infidelity. That doesn't make me some unsophisticated simpleton."

"Is it so unconventional? I'm not naive. You think my father is a paragon of sexual virtue? My mother lets him live his life, and they stay together in a solid marriage where they take care of each other and partner together."

"No offense, Vivienne, but I've never aspired to have your parents' marriage. I didn't think you did either."

"I don't. Ours wouldn't be. We care about each other. Our feelings are rooted in friendship."

Nick faced Vivienne squarely, placing his hands on either side of her face.

"No. Vivienne, that's crazy. Is this about your parents?"

Vivienne grabbed his hands and clasped them in hers under her chin. "I've been thinking about this and thinking about this. I'm telling you because I'm hoping you can help me handle these threats and make sure that no one else ever finds out." Vivienne looked a bit panicked again. "I can still help you get what you want. With my dad's business, you'll have no problem making partner. You'll be family. I can still give you exactly what you want."

Shame engulfed Nick. It had been what he wanted, but it wasn't all that he wanted. He loved Vivienne. He did. Was it a passionate love? Maybe not, but he'd wanted to share his whole life with her. Somehow she thought all he wanted was her family connections.

"I want success, but I want a real family, with real commitment. I'm not getting married so that I can date other people. Look, Viv, we don't have to give anyone details about why we're not getting married. We can say it didn't work out. It's not anyone's business."

"You don't get it, Nick. My parents won't let this go without a reason. You don't know how they are."

"I have some idea," Nick said, firmly setting his jaw.

"You think you have an idea. They want me married. They're already wondering why it's taken me this long. Single in my thirties? My mother thinks that's ridiculous."

"Jonah's not married."

"Oh, you heard what he said, and he's right. He gets to do whatever he wants, going through woman after woman and never settling down. At some point, my parents will press him, but he's got time. I don't. If I'm going to break off our engagement, I'm going to have to give my parents something. That might not be so pleasant for you if my dad thinks it's your fault."

Nick leaned over the counter and glared. "Are you threatening me?"

Vivienne paled. "No. I'm just saying he's going to blame someone. It could be you. He'd pull his business or worse."

"That's not a reason to get married," Nick said, repeating the refrain to himself over and over. He couldn't get ensnared in the Morans' dysfunction.

Suddenly, amidst the turmoil, relief unfurled in his chest. He'd dodged a bullet. His family would be disappointed, but they'd support him. If he told them that Vivienne was gay, they wouldn't care. He'd like to tell her she should be honest, but he knew her parents.

Vivienne wasn't just a lesbian. She was a lesbian daughter to extremely conservative, evangelical Christian parents. Her father had led a local effort to keep the city from extending spousal benefits to same-sex couples. Her brother was hoping to run for office as a staunch Republican. While some parents—even very religious ones—might at least try to accept their child's being gay, Vivienne's parents likely wouldn't go along without a fight.

"We don't have to tell them anything you don't want to. People break up all the time. We can say that we've realized we want different things. I'll handle my family, and you can handle yours. Tell them that I work too much. That's true enough, right?"

"That's not a vice. That's a virtue," Vivienne murmured. A faint wrinkle nearly formed on her forehead.

"Okay, look, Vivienne, for now, why don't we do nothing? Take a deep breath. You don't have to tell your parents tomorrow. Take a week or so to figure out what you want to say," Nick reasoned. That would give him time to figure out a way to secure Vivienne's father's support without having to join the man's family. Plus, they still had to figure out who's threatening her.