Chapter 18 Daddy Issues
While I anticipated an incredible show of finery from Hollywood’s mother, nothing could have prepared me for the home of Vivian Graves.
The house, or villa as it is more appropriately deemed, is a light cream stone with arched windows and ivy covered balconies.
It stretches far and wide, the grounds equally as vast. The paved drive turns to flat, red bricks and loops under a tall archway where two other cars are already parked.
Noah pulls in behind them and I take a deep breath.
He rounds on the car to open my door and I’m barely out of my seat when the captivating beauty known as Vivian Graves, draped in white linen and chiffon, comes bursting out of the large doorway.
“Noah!”
The woman wraps her long arms around him and squeezes tight. She pulls back, placing her palms on his cheeks, and I turn my attention to the sweeping grounds to avoid intruding on what seems like an intimate moment between mother and son.
“And you must be Charlotte.”
I spin around fast enough to topple over, barely catching myself on the hood of the car as the woman struts forward with open arms. She sweeps me into a matronly hug, wrapping me in the scent of expensive perfume, and I stare wide eyed at Noah, who shrugs.
This is the third person to welcome me like this, and the instant familiarity is still unsettling.
But before I can process the incredibly warm welcome from one of my favorite actresses, she stands up straight, grabs me by the shoulders and looks me up and down.
With a crinkled-nose smile, she bobs her head back towards her son.
“He’s not working you too hard this weekend, is he?”
“No, not at all.”
“Good,” she says, turning and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “Let’s have a drink and you can tell me all about yourself.”
While the prospect of spending my afternoon detailing my existence to a celebrity would usually be enough to drive me underground for the rest of my life, something about Vivian sets all my worries at ease. She exudes charm, and it isn’t hard to see where Noah gets his.
Vivian waves at a few things as we pass through the house, promising a full tour later, and soon we’re settled on plush ivory sofas in the main living room.
A man, who Vivian introduces as her assistant Frank, drops a tray of iced tea and lemon wedges on the table and then disappears to follow the trill of a cell phone.
“Charlotte,” Vivian says, squeezing her lemon slice into her glass. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from Portland, born and raised.”
“And you like the rainy city?”
“Truthfully, I haven’t lived anywhere else to compare. But yes, I like the rain. And the summers are near perfect.”
She smiles and sits back with her ankles crossed and her legs tipped in a way that screams class. “It must be so nice being so close to your family though.”
The statement was clearly a loving, albeit pointed, jab at Noah, but her eyes trace back to me as she waits for a response. Not wanting to bring down the mood I offer a closed lip smile and give my most polite answer.
“I don’t have much of that, but yes, I keep the ones I do have close.”
Her smile pulls at the delicate wrinkles around her eyes as her attention darts between me and Noah. “And you’ve worked for Flourish for just a short time, yes?”
“Yes, only about a year.”
“Is working for the next up and coming wellness company what you’ve always wanted?”
I chuckle, appreciating her candor. “Not exactly.”
Noah shifts in his seat and I offer an apologetic look. “I mean, it is a great company, and they’ve been good to me.”
She waves her hand as she reaches for her glass again. “Yes, yes, no need for flattery here, dear. I’m sure my son’s company is a fine employer. That’s not what I asked.”
I slip my hands under my thighs, uneasy with the attention.
Vivian waits, and Noah’s eyes are on me.
We’ve never talked about this, and while I can’t imagine he thinks I would be with Flourish forever, it’s uncomfortable to be talking about long term dreams with your current boss sitting about two feet away.
“I’ve always wanted to run my own business.
My sort of adopted grandma, Nan, used to run this diner in one of the historic districts downtown, and I’ve been uh—my throat is tight uttering the words out loud—“Uh, I’ve been saving and hoping to buy out the lease so I can restore it. To, er, bring her dream back to life.”
There is a brief silence as I reach for the glass of iced tea to quench my nerve-induced thirst. Noah is the first to speak, his voice quiet enough I may be the only one to hear.
“I had no idea.”
Vivian chimes in, louder, and full of praise. “That sounds wonderful. What a beautiful way to honor who I’m sure is a loving influence in your life.”
Frank struts in, stealing the show with some news for Vivian and I sneak a sideways glance at Noah. The pleasant smile on his face tells me he isn’t upset, but a whispered apology tumbles out anyway.
“I’m sorry. This is a weird way for you to find out I don’t plan on making Flourish my long term career. It’s just she asked and I felt weird lying to her, even though she probably won’t remember me, or the silly dreams of some employee her son brought home one weekend.”
Noah’s head falls back as he breaks into a full laugh and I quiet.
“You thought I would be upset because you’re not planning to tie yourself to Flourish for the rest of your life?
There’s no shame in having a dream, Lottie.
And only a fool would meet you and think you had any intention of pouring yourself into someone else’s dream.
You are far too driven to not run your own show. ”
The crimson heat rises on my cheeks and sinks low into my belly as I search his face for any hint of his compliment being given with anything but sincerity.
I don’t find it. What I do find is the same admiration I’ve seen all weekend, the look I assumed was part of his act with the Barkers.
But here we are, nearly two hours from anyone who thinks we’re together and Noah’s storm gray eyes are still drinking me in with a toe curling fervor.
“Ahem.”
I jump, remembering we aren’t alone, and shake out of the embarrassing trance, beaming a smile at Vivian.
“Yes, sorry.”
Her eyes flick to Noah and then back to me. “No worries. I do apologize, lunch is running a bit behind.”
“No problem,” I say, adjusting my skirt.
“I’m afraid the last member of our party is now late, so we’ll have to occupy our time until he arrives.”
The energy in the room shifts, the warmth of our welcome slipping away as Noah’s face falls into a flat stare.
“I didn’t realize anyone else would be joining us,” he says.
His words are clipped and heavy with disdain, much like they were during our first meeting.
My mind reels, wondering who could elicit such a reaction from him.
Noah never mentioned siblings, and the emotion rolling off his shoulders could only be strong enough for a few kinds of relationships.
His mother seems wonderful, and he’s admitted to being close with her.
“Don’t be silly, son. You can’t expect him to not have lunch at his own house.”
Vivian sips on her tea and dabs her mouth with one of the small napkins. The realization sinks in as he speaks again, his voice still tight: he’s never mentioned his father.
“Convenient of you to not mention it until we were already here,” Noah says.
“Please, dear.” Vivian shoots a pointed look at her son before turning back to me with a smile. “We have a guest who doesn’t need a taste of our insufferable family drama.”
The two members of the Graves family stare at each other with contempt and I need a way out.
Summoning what I hope comes across as a smile rather than a grimace, I sink back into the cushion.
I knew coming today was a bad idea, and sensing the heavy dread from Noah leaves me little reason to look forward to the rest of the afternoon.
“Excuse me, may I use your bathroom?”
Vivian nods and motions towards an archway off the main living area. “Of course. It’s down that hallway, first door on the left.”
Once in the bathroom, I pull my phone out and do what I can to arm myself for what is shaping up to be a very awkward family reunion.
I scroll through countless images, looking for any hint of Vivian’s husband; he doesn’t seem to appear in any of her red carpet outings.
Celebripedia is a little more help and I scan the page looking for anything, cursing myself for not doing this sooner.
Carlisle Graves is the husband of Vivian Graves and father to her only son, Noah.
He rose to fortune in the tech industry as the CEO of Asco Tech while his wife rose to fame in the public eye.
His net worth is approximately 2.8 billion, and though he keeps a private life, he is active in environmental charity circles.
For the second time today, I think I’m going to throw up.
Two point eight billion dollars. I knew Noah came from money, and Vivian has a career that would put most to shame, but realizing I’m standing in the home of a literal billionaire twists into something insidious.
I scour the page, discouraged that none of this explains why Noah had such a strong reaction to hearing his father was going to be joining us.
I wash my hands and stare at my reflection, feeling worse than before.