Chapter 6 #2
“Is there anything between Ivy and Hunter?” Delphine asked me. “Do you know for certain?”
“I know what he told me,” I said. “And I choose to believe him.” Even as I said it, doubt started to creep in like slowly melting ice. How well did I know this man? People lied all the time. “Ivy James is going to be here next week.”
“In Willet Cove?” Delphine asked. “Why?”
“They’re going to write together,” I said. “They’re good friends. They’ve known each other for a long time.”
“Okay, well, as long as you’re not worried, then I won’t be either,” Delphine said, rather unconvincingly.
“None of us should feel worried,” Vance said. “Hunter’s our friend. Anyway, if he was having an affair with Ivy, why would he be here and not in Nashville with her? The whole thing’s ridiculous.”
“Agreed,” Alex said. “These days it’s wise not to judge anything by what you see online or in the media.”
He was right. Of course he was. But that little niggle of doubt was making its icy way through my bloodstream. I would ask him about it all tomorrow. Give him a chance to tell me more about his marriage and how Ivy had factored in to the demise before deciding anything.
“You’re just going to have to trust your instincts,” Gillian said. “You know a fictional story when you see one, right?”
I nodded. “You’re right. I’ll talk with him about it tomorrow. See what he says. But I’m not worried.”
Liar.
On the way home, Tyler brought it up before I said anything.
“Robbie was doing a search on Hunter and something came up that you should know about.”
“I already saw it. The ex-wife and her memoir.”
“It’s all lies, Mom. She just wants to sell books and elevate her career.”
“I think so too.”
“Hunter’s not a liar, Mom. He told us that he and Ivy are super good friends and nothing else. Don’t let this wreck everything, okay?”
“I won’t.”
“And you should text him when we get home. He’ll be worried.”
“Good idea.” I agreed but wasn’t sure I could actually do it.
We were quiet the rest of the drive home. When we were inside, Tyler gave me a hug and then went up to his room. It was nearing ten. Maybe too late to text. I’d do it in the morning.
I trudged upstairs. When I was in my room, I set my phone in the charger and got ready for bed, brushing my teeth and then put on my favorite pair of cotton pajamas. I’d just turned down the bed when my phone buzzed.
I picked it up, surprised to see it was from Hunter.
Hunter
Did you have a nice night?
Seraphina
Yes. Dinner with the gang. You?
Hunter
Spent the evening with Wes and Margaret.
Three dots appeared, then disappeared, then appeared again.
Hunter
My ex wrote a book. Says some damaging things about Ivy and me. Just so you know, it’s all false. Dana was always jealous of Ivy.
Seraphina
Are you okay?
Hunter
I’m all right. I don’t like being accused of something that isn’t true but that’s Dana for you. It’s always about her.
Seraphina
That much seems obvious.
Hunter
We still on for tomorrow night?
Seraphina
Yes.
Hunter
Then I’m fine.
Seraphina
See you at six.
Hunter
Sleep well.
Seraphina
You too.
I set the phone back in its charger and climbed into bed, suddenly weary.
Was I making a mistake? Would this scandal affect my own career, if it came out that Hunter and I were romantically involved?
I had my own reputation to protect. Romance readers had no tolerance for cheaters. They might not like this at all.
With that worrisome thought, I rolled onto my side and closed my eyes, hoping sleep would come easily, but I lay there for quite some time. Finally I drifted away, dreaming I was naked at a book signing.
The doorbell rang at six o’clock exactly, followed by Tyler’s footsteps.
I was standing at my bedroom mirror doing a final check.
So happy to find a salon open on a Sunday, I’d popped into it for a blow out, so it was a stellar hair day.
My green chiffon dress had a halter neck and a layered skirt that moved when I walked.
I’d bought it for a cocktail party in L.A.
after I signed the Netflix deal. It had made me feel confident that night. I hoped it would do the same tonight.
I heard the front door open and Tyler’s voice carrying up the stairs.
“Hey, Hunter. Come in. Mom will be down in a minute.”
A pause. Hunter’s voice, lower, the words indistinct from up here.
I picked up my clutch, took one more look in the mirror, and decided this was as good as it was going to get.
Hunter was standing in my front hallway in a navy jacket and a white shirt open at the collar, a bunch of pale pink peonies in one hand and something smaller in the other.
I came down the stairs slowly, careful in my heels.
“Hi,” I said, when I reached the bottom.
“Hey.” His voice was a little lower than usual. His eyes moved over me once, briefly, before coming back to my face. “Now that’s a dress.”
“She never dresses up unless she has a signing or a party,” Tyler said to Hunter, as if to emphasize how special it was that I’d done so for Hunter.
“She looks good in anything,” Hunter said, his gaze still on me.
“Have you seen her in the yellow writing sweater?” Tyler asked.
“If anyone could pull it off, it’s your mom.”
“Thank you.” Warmth traveled to my cheeks. “You look very nice yourself.”
Hunter held out the bouquet. “These are for you.”
“They’re beautiful. Thank you.” I took them and promptly handed them off to Tyler.
“I’ll put them in a vase for you, Mom.”
“I brought something for you too,” he said, turning to Tyler. He handed him a small flat package—a card with guitar strings tucked inside. “These are the brand I use. They’re the best they make.”
Tyler looked down at them. “These are for real players.”
“You’re ready for them,” Hunter said.
Tyler looked up, grinning. “Thanks. I’ll put them on and practice tonight.”
“Good man,” Hunter said.
“You two better go or you’ll be late.” Tyler opened the door with a flourish. “Have fun. Don’t stay out too late.”
“We might,” Hunter said, smiling at me.
Tyler gave me a quick, hard hug. “You look really pretty, Mom. Have the best time.”
“Lock the door after we leave,” I said.
“I’m on it,” Tyler said.
Hunter’s hand found the small of my back as we walked out the door, causing me to shiver. And not from the cool April breeze that ruffled my skirts.
Tidewater Grill occupied the top floor of a building at the end of Harbor Street, with a view of the ocean. Hunter had gotten us a corner table right at the window.
“In all the years I’ve been coming here, I’ve never had this table. It’s the best one.” I smiled at him as I picked up the menu.
“That’s how it is when we’re together. Everything just falls into place.”
I laughed. “Is that right?”
At this hour in the evening, the sun painted our part of the world in tangerine.
The light reflected in his hazel eyes, showing me specks of gold and green.
I’d once thought his eyes were moody and stormy.
Now that I knew him better, I understood they were not tumultuous but sensitive, searching and expressive.
We both ordered the salmon, with side salads and glasses of wine.
“This is a terrible way to start our first date, but I want to talk about my ex,” he said. “Before we do anything else.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“The messiness of all this has probably made you uneasy. I half expected you to cancel tonight.”
“I didn’t, though. I’m here. Ready to listen.”
“Thank you for that.” He paused as the server brought our wine, waiting until she was gone before speaking. “Have you seen the interview?”
“Just what was online.”
He looked out at the view for a moment before turning back to me. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Was Ivy one of the reasons your marriage failed?”
He blinked, then shook his head. “In a way, yes. She and I came up together. Other than Wes, there was no one I trusted more. Still do. We’d made a pact a long time ago to partner however we could.
My songs. Her incredible voice. I’d told her, back when we were both broke, sharing a terrible apartment and living on ramen, that I’d give her the first shot at anything I’d written.
This was long before either of us had any success at all.
When I met Dana, she was actually a bigger star than Ivy.
In fact, Ivy hadn’t gotten a record deal until a month before Dana and I married.
But we’d only been married a few months when Ivy had a big hit with one of my songs.
Half the songs on her debut album were mine.
She ended up winning best new country artist that year.
All of a sudden, her voice was all over the radio.
She was opening for huge stars. Pretty soon, she was selling out stadiums. Meanwhile, Dana’s career had stalled.
She wanted me to write songs for her. The more she hassled me about it, the less inclined I was to try.
Although, I did. She’s lying that I refused.
It was the record label that didn’t want them. For Dana, that is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dana and Ivy were on the same record label. Ivy’s success with my songs made her the darling. Which means they wanted Ivy to have my songs. We’d been so successful together that they didn’t want to risk changing anything up. And the truth was—Dana hadn’t performed as well for them.”
“Did Dana know all this?”
“Oh yeah. We all understood what was happening. Obviously, it put Ivy and me in a really awkward position. Dana felt betrayed by us and the record label. The more her anger and resentment grew, the harder I tried to hold on to her. But like my song says—Dana decided to trade me in for someone else. She had an affair with a producer at another record label. Right under my nose, and I didn’t see it at all.
Ivy was the one who told me that Dana was cheating on me.
Ironically, Dana blamed me for everything.
Said I suffocated her while at the same time neglecting her needs.
But the truth is, her jealousy about Ivy’s career and my part in it ate her up until there was nothing left between us but anger. ”
“No wonder she’s lashing out,” I said. “Trying to justify her lack of success. Blaming you and Ivy.”
“Dana’s ambitious. Always has been. Her career stalling crushed her.”
“I can understand that,” I said. “Not that it’s right. But I’ve had my share of jealousy, seeing other writer’s successes—movie deals and dominating the bestseller charts—and wondered—why can’t that happen to me?”
“But it did.”
“In some ways, yes. But there’s always someone doing better than you.”
“Does it still bother you? Seeing others doing better?”
“Once in a while I feel a tinge of jealousy, but for the most part I’m just grateful for what I have.
What writing’s given me.” I smiled, remembering something my father had said to me not long before he died.
“My dad said the only way to be truly happy was to compete only with yourself. As in, try and write a better book than the one before. Comparing myself to others was a sure way to diminish any joy the work gave me. I’ve tried to always keep that front of mind. ”
Our food arrived and, for a few minutes, we were quiet, cutting into our savory pieces of salmon.
“Is there anything else you want to ask me about my ex-wife?” Hunter asked.
“Do you think her accusations will hurt your career? Or Ivy’s?”
“I’m not sure. People love a feud, so it may actually be beneficial to both of them. The more Dana promotes the book and her narrative of what happened, the more attention she’ll get. So yeah, it may impact Ivy’s career, but it may have the opposite affect too.”
“Have you talked to Ivy?” I asked. “Since the news broke?”
He nodded. “This morning. She expressed nothing but pity for Dana. Ivy’s ridiculously optimistic. She’s not worried.”
“Good for her. All of it will blow over after a time anyway.”
He picked up his glass but didn’t drink from it, his gaze directed downward.
“I’m worried being seen with me could hurt your reputation.
Getting pulled into the scandal and gossip is the opposite of what you would want.
I don’t want any of this to negatively affect you or Tyler. That’s my primary concern.”
“I’ve thought about that too,” I said.
“And?”
“Beau Sinclair didn’t raise me to be afraid of bullies.”
“She’s angry enough to write a tell-all where I look like the bad guy. She’ll find more ways to hurt me. And if she knows how I feel about you, she’ll want to make things difficult between us.”
“How do you feel about me?” I asked.
“We’re here. Which, if you know me, you would know means I really like you, or I wouldn’t be risking getting hurt again.”
“I’m sorry for what Dana did to you,” I said.
He smiled and reached across the table to brush my cheek with the back of his knuckles for a second or two.
“Thank you. But I was to blame for a lot of what happened. I could have dealt with the Ivy situation better. It was just that … I didn’t know what to do.
I was kind of a deer in the headlights. Then everything blew up, and I came here to heal. Now, she’s back in my life.”
“You can’t control what she does, only your reaction to it. The question is—do we let her actions ruin whatever this is between us before we even get a chance to discover exactly what it is?”
“My answer is no. Emphatic no.”
I smiled, nodding slightly. “Okay then. We agree. Ignore the noise.”
“Even if it gets louder.”
“Even then,” I said.
A niggling worry remained. The author world was hyper-competitive and cutthroat.
If I became part of the story, it could negatively impact the career I’d worked so hard to make and sustain.
I’d made a pact with myself a long time ago that no relationship could get in the way of my career and taking care of Tyler. Was I setting myself up to just that?
I looked across the table. Hunter Sloan made my heart skip a beat and my knees wobbly. That hadn’t happened in a long time. I decided right then. It was time to take a risk instead of playing it safe. And was this the man to do it with?
My dad’s voice drifted into my mind. Time to have a little faith, Sugar Plum. Let love in.
I’m trying.