6. Chapter Six #2
Rachel Bayer was even more striking up close than she was through a TV camera, with dark eyes, dark hair and olive skin that looked even warmer under stage lighting. She took both of Yukiko’s hands in hers like the two of them were old friends.
“I am so glad you’re doing this,” she said, sounding like she meant it. “I have been telling the producers to get one of the Avery girls on this program since the videos went viral. Honestly, I’m rooting for you.”
“Thanks,” Yukiko said. I remembered what Caroline had said about auras.
“People are going to fall in love with you,” she said, glancing at Yukiko’s belly. “Just be yourself!”
Colin Holloway was a different animal. He reminded me of half the engineers who’d worked under me at Ramsey Engineering—everything from the crew cut to the square jaw to the perfectly white, even teeth read All-American in seventy-two-point font.
He greeted Yukiko, then shook my hand with exactly the right amount of pressure and smiled like I was about to do him a favor.
I recognized his energy immediately. It was the same energy as the woman standing behind me—the one who’d set this interview up to begin with.
Like Mona, Mr. Holloway was a shark. A well-groomed, network-approved, advertiser-friendly shark.
“Jackson Avery,” he said, saying my name the way you might pronounce the name of a fancy restaurant with exclusive reservations. “The viral sensation himself. This is going to be great television, Jack. America is so curious about what’s going on behind closed doors in that house of yours.”
“You’d be surprised by how normal we are,” I said. Something about him set my teeth on edge.
Colin chuckled, unbothered, and drifted back out towards the set. But I couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered—not on Yukiko, the woman he planned to interview, but on me. Filing me away. Saving me for later.
I do believe that man’s planning something, I thought. We’d better check that list of questions.
I turned to Mona to tell her just that, only to see her in the middle of setting her phone down. It must have been buzzing, and now my heart was in my throat because her face gave absolutely nothing away. She looked at me, saying nothing.
It’s Daniel, I realized. Her man texted with the news. What happened?
I had to wait until almost showtime to hear. A few minutes later a staff member came to collect us, letting us know Yukiko needed to go through her microphone check before the interview started. As soon as we started to walk, I fell behind a step and grabbed Mona’s arm.
She didn’t need to be asked. “My associate is almost at the house,” she said, low and fast. “Twenty minutes out. He’ll call as soon as he’s there.”
I blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Acid filled my gut. “I thought you’d gotten some real information. That’s all the text was?”
Mona paused. When she spoke, her voice was soothing.
“That’s all it was,” she said. “We don’t know anything more than we do an hour ago.
” She took my hand, which fortunately none of the employees noticed.
“I will let you know as soon as I know something. I don’t want you staring at my face the whole interview assuming the worst every time my phone lights up. You need to be focused on your wife.”
I appreciated that. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Her jaw tightened. “I may not have a McLaren to eat, but I’d bet several cars I’ve owned that they’ve changed the questions on us. I don’t like how deceptive they’ve been about the whole thing.”
“I assumed so, too,” I said.
She frowned. “I signed off on those questions personally. If they’ve changed them…”
“She’ll handle it,” I said, believing it down to my very soul. “You know they won’t trip her up, Mona. Yukiko’s got this.”
The producer’s voice came from just up ahead. “Avery in five!”
Almost time, I thought.
Mona sighed. “Go wish Kiki good luck,” she said. “I’m going to try and track down someone who knows what those questions actually are. I’ll meet you on the side-stage when the interview starts.”
That sounded good to me.
I caught up to Yukiko just as the finished clipping the battery pack for her microphone to the waistband of her slacks. A production tech threaded the delicate wire through her blazer, clipping the actual sound-processing bit to her lapel.
For a moment, I just stood there, stunned. “God,” I whispered. “You’re so beautiful.”
Yukiko heard me. She beamed.
It was true. Whatever Caroline did to her, it showed. She looked poised, composed, intelligent: like a woman ready to take the worst of whatever Morning Harbor could throw at her and spin it into solid gold.
She also looked like she was about to be sick.
“Hey,” I said, taking her hands. Jesus, they were freezing. “Princess, look at me.”
“I’m looking,” she said, her voice edging into panic. “Jack, this was a mistake—”
“No, it wasn’t,” I said, keeping my tone calm. “You slapped Victoria Ruocchio in the face and told her you were going to bankrupt her before our kids hit preschool. This is nothing compared to that.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly when I slapped Victoria,” she blurted. “I didn’t have time to be scared. Oh, Jack—”
I thought fast. Let go of Yukiko’s hands.
And unbuckled my watch.
My Monaco. The watch Maria Alvarez noticed on our first meeting and immediately guessed (correctly) that I’d had a Steve McQueen poster on the wall of my room as a teenager. One of the only things I’d splurged on in the fifteen years I’d spent in workaholic mode, along with my McLaren.
That watch had been with me through everything. Through Stillwell, through Delta Rho, through my panic attack and through one memorable evening when it had been used to time a contest between two beautiful women who were fighting over ‘babygirl’ as a term of endearment.
Before Yukiko could say anything, I slipped it onto her wrist.
I had to cinch the band three full notches below where I wore it—her wrist was so much smaller than mine. The square face looked a little too large on her, but when I tugged the sleeve of her blazer back down, it hid the timepiece perfectly.
Yukiko tugged the sleeve back up. Stared at the second hand silently sweeping around the dial.
Then back at me.
“Jack,” she whispered, her voice thick. “Baby, this is your watch—”
“And you’re going to wear it the whole time you’re out there,” I told her.
“Don’t worry, they won’t see it. But you’ll feel it.
And when you do, you’re going to know that I’m twenty feet away from you, cheering you on the entire time, and that I love you, Yukiko Avery.
And that there is nothing those two people can ask you that is a tenth as scary as what you and I have already lived through together. ”
Her eyes widened. The hand with the watch strapped to it shook.
“God damn it, I cannot cry,” she said, a little laugh spilling from her. “Caroline will kill us both.”
I leaned down and planted a kiss on her forehead. “I’d like to see her try.”
The tiny laugh turned into a big one, and then Yukiko’s body was pressed against mine.
“I love you too, Jackson Avery,” she murmured, giving me a quick kiss that didn’t mess up her makeup.
“Thank you for loaning me your watch.” Her eyes narrowed.
“I think I’m going to do something fun with it later. ”
My brows shot skyward. “Oh yeah?”
“I’ve heard a certain story about you, Sam, Marcie and this watch,” she whispered, her lips twisting in a wicked pout. “It’s something I’ve wanted to recreate for quite some time…”
“We’ll do it with the cheerleaders,” I promised her. “But something tells me you’re going to win.”
She looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with repressed tears. “I already won,” she whispered, the love in her voice nearly enough to knock me backward. “I won everything. The whole fucking jackpot.”
“Mrs. Avery?” It was a producer. “We’re walking.”
Yukiko squeezed my hand one last time, then turned. “See you soon.”
“Not if I see you first, princess.”
She let the producer lead her to the stage. I couldn’t help but notice that she kept her fingers pressed against the dial of my watch under her cuff, like she was taking strength from it.
Good. I hoped she did.
I went the other way, into the dark.
And prepared for the show to begin.