15. Vivien
P eter McCarthy’s eyes, were, in fact, the color of Hershey’s chocolate syrup, as only a twelve-year-old with a crush could describe them. Now, they were aged slightly by sun and laughter. And his laugh, which, Vivien had to admit, was deeper than the bells on an ice cream truck, but just as sweet.
A few minutes after he arrived at Summer House, Vivien’s phone blew up with texts and voicemails from Ryan, forcing her to slip away while the others caught up and shared a cocktail.
Upstairs in her room, she dropped on the bed and stared at the phone. Whatever her almost-ex wanted, whatever was wrong, she would not be used, walked on, or taken advantage of. That determination would not waver, she swore.
With that vow in place, she tapped his name and the call button, only a little surprised when he answered on the first ring.
“Finally! I’ve been killing myself to reach you.”
“I’m busy,” she said dryly. “Still am, as a matter of fact, so what’s wrong?”
“The Hoffmans,” he said as if that meant something to her.
She had to think for a moment. “Miranda and Sam? In Johns Creek?” She closed her eyes and pictured the blueprints of a five-bedroom mid-century-meets-farmhouse estate home they’d contracted Ryan to build in Atlanta’s ritziest area.
“The design went sideways.”
She gave a quick laugh. “And that’s my problem…why?”
“They took bad advice,” he said, clearly not answering the question.
“Then bring Una Tatum in to save the day.”
He was dead silent, and she knew why. Because he hired the woman to take her place and not because he was seeing her romantically? Nope.
She laughed again, getting a jolt of satisfaction. “Oh, she was the designer that took things sideways.”
“It went a little too edgy for their tastes,” he said. “I mean, it’s gorgeous, but they wanted a little more, uh, classic. More your style, so I was hoping you’d meet with them at the house.”
Well, if this wasn’t the perfect test for her new backbone, she didn’t know what was. “I’m sorry. I’m too busy to help.”
“Come on, Viv,” he said, his voice soft and, yes, a little sad. “This job is so in your wheelhouse. I wanted you on it from the beginning.”
“But I’m not on it, Ryan. I’m doing my own work, building Vivien Lawson Designs. I can’t run back to Atlanta and get you out of hot water.”
“I know you aren’t here. And I know Lacey went flying to wherever you are and left me high and dry with no admin, and I probably deserve that bit of family desertion.”
Probably? No doubt he considered those words contrite enough to qualify as an apology—and now he expected her to say yes. She stayed silent, listening to bursts of laughter coming up from downstairs, where she really wanted to be right now.
“They asked for you specifically,” he said, sounding defeated. “Miranda is a fan of your work and…well, I think she thought it was a package deal when they picked us as the builder last year. So…”
“So tell her the package is getting divorced.”
“Vivien, this is an important client, and I will pay you very, very well. Double your rate and they’ll give you a glowing reference for your new website. Which is really nice, by the way.”
She bit her lip. Double her rate was also nice, a glowing reference and images from that fantastic residence would be nicer, but…but…but…
She couldn’t think of a reason to say no except to prove she could. Was that wise?
“I have to think about it,” she said, fighting a grunt of disappointment. “It would be very hard for me to get up there and leave this job. I’m five hours away by car.”
“What are you working on?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“A beach house in Destin.” And that was all she would say about it.
“How’d you get that?”
“Mad skills and close contacts,” she quipped, standing up. “And I have to go, Ryan.”
“Okay, but the Hoffmans will be at the house on Thursday morning. If you drive up Wednesday night, you could do the meeting and be back Thursday night in…Destin, is it? Where you used to go as a kid?”
She just sighed. “Yeah.”
“Okay, well, I’ll be waiting to hear,” he said, not really that interested in Destin. “Thanks, Viv.”
With that, he hung up and she took a minute to inhale deeply and try to figure out what was right. Maybe she’d talk to Lacey. But not now. Now, she wanted to spend time with Peter McCarthy and enjoy a beautiful evening with friends and family.
A few hours later, she’d almost forgotten about Ryan. With the new furniture set up, they ate al fresco on the deck in the waning light of the day, taking in the sights and sounds of the beach.
To Vivien, it felt very much like old times, when the Wylies and the Lawsons—and, of course, Peter—would eat on the small back porch of the house at a long picnic table after a day in the sun.
As they finished Kate and Jonah’s best dinner yet—crab cakes and risotto—the words from the diary Vivien had peeked at last night kept echoing in her head. The entry was so childish she’d cringed reading it, but seeing Peter right here, in person, it was like those long-ago hazy days were suddenly in sharp focus.
Truth was, if Vivien had bumped into this man on the street far from Destin, she might not have recognized him.
His hair, once a wild mess of sandy brown curls, was now streaked with silver, cropped close, and thinner than she remembered. His dark brown eyes were gentle and earnest, despite a low-key swagger he must have picked up when he’d done a stint in the military, or maybe as a cop.
He asked pointed questions, looked right at the person talking, and regaled them with plenty of stories about being a cop that had them all in stitches and awe.
She’d seen him once or twice over the years, the last being almost fifteen years ago at Melissa’s funeral. They’d all been in mourning and shock over the death of Eli’s wife, so she hadn’t really talked to him.
But now she could see that the boy who had walked a mile for her had turned into an attractive man with a fascinating life and career.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” Peter said, his expression serious as he pointed at Jonah in response to a question about an investigation. Then he broke into that easy laugh. “Because I have no idea where that dude hid the murder weapon! But he didn’t know that. I got the confession, and he got twenty to life.”
As they reacted to that, he looked around the table and held up his hands. “Okay, enough cop talk. This meal was too amazing to sully with homicide investigations.” He glanced at Vivien with interest. “You haven’t told us about your business, Vivien. Interior design? Based on what I see here, you know what you’re doing.”
“Oh, this place is a work in progress, but it’s a dream assignment, thanks to my brother.” She beamed at Eli.
“I will say you two certainly get along better than you did back in the day.”
Eli and Vivien laughed. “We only fought in the early years,” she said. “As we got older, we learned to appreciate each other.”
“And Crista?” he asked. “Your baby sister?”
The whole table cracked up and Peter looked a little lost at the joke.
“It’s just that everyone here calls her that,” Lacey explained. “I don’t think of my Aunt Crista as a baby.”
Tessa gave an exaggerated eyeroll. “That kid was the ultimate tag-along,” she said, “so at this beach? She’s still the baby sister.”
“Remember the time she ran away and we had to find her?” Peter asked. “That guy who owned the deli found her way down on the end of the jetty pretending to be a mermaid.”
“Frank Cavallari,” Eli said, giving a look to Kate. “He and his wife still live around here.”
“You looked him up?” Vivien asked.
“Kate and I wondered about them,” he said. “I asked Meredith to do a little digging and all she could find was an address in Santa Rosa Beach, no phone number or cell listed. No obituary, either, which is nice, since they must be well into their eighties.”
“Are you going to contact them?” Tessa asked.
Kate shrugged and she and Eli shared another look as if they’d talked about it. “We were hoping to call or email rather than just show up on their doorstep, so I don’t know.”
“They were nice people,” Peter said. “They loved to party with your parents. And you know, I heard an old rumor that Frank Cavallari ran numbers from that deli.”
“He did?” Eli blinked at him.
“What is ‘running numbers’?” Lacey asked.
“Old school gambling,” Peter said. “Wiped out by the internet.”
They shared a few Cavallari memories as the dinner ended and the cleanup started while Eli, Peter, and Jonah went outside to check out the nearly finished boardwalk.
Lacey and Tessa were side by side at the sink, whispering, when Vivien playfully muscled her shoulder between them.
“You’re determined to steal my daughter,” she teased.
The two of them shared a look, then laughed.
“And why is that so funny?”
“Because Lacey has beautiful blue eyes. Almost…turquoise.”
Lacey threw her head back and laughed. “As turquoise as that…flower arrangement we liked today?”
“Turquoise like…” Tessa looked past them, to the patio. “That horizon, which would be even nicer from the beach. Why don’t you take a walk with Peter, Viv?”
She looked from one to the other, then back again, inching away. “What are you two up to?”
Kate came in from the pantry, smiling at them. “They want to set you up with Peter. Turquoise is their code word for ‘he meets approval.’”
Lacey’s jaw dropped as she gave an accusatory look at Tessa. “You told her?”
“She’s my sister. No secrets. Well, not many.”
But Vivien was the one sputtering. “Your approval? Set me up? What is this all about? Turquoise and…Peter?”
“Oh, puh-lease . Don’t act like you never thought of it!” Tessa waved a little sponge shaped like a face.
“Not in the last thirty years,” Vivien fired back.
“Not in the last thirty minutes?” Kate prodded more gently. “Because he’s a sweet, successful, good-looking man and he’s single.”
Surprised at how hot her cheeks were, Vivien just shook her head. “I’m not going to make a fool of myself because some guy I liked as a teenager shows up.”
“Mom.” Lacey stepped away from the sink, coming closer. “He’s nice and good-looking, I mean for fifty-something, and you guys have a history.”
“First of all, the history is that he came on vacation with my brother. Not exactly an emotional connection. And second?” She narrowed her eyes at her daughter because she knew this. “The divorce isn’t even final yet. I’m not single.”
Lacey angled her head, sympathy in her baby blue—not turquoise—eyes. “But it’s close. It’ll be final in a month and, Mom, Dad’s seeing someone.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said. “He just informed me he’s throwing her off the Hoffman job and asking me to step in—at double my rate.”
Lacey’s jaw dropped. “They haven’t been happy with her,” she said. “I’m not totally surprised he needs your help.”
Vivien felt a stab of guilt since she’d just about decided not to take the job—as much out of spite than not wanting to be used.
“Who cares?” Tessa interjected. “Revenge is sweet. And so is Peter. Personally, I think you should at least talk to him.”
Vivien let out a long sigh of defeat and glanced out the sliders to see the three men on the boardwalk, laughing as the sun spilled into the Gulf behind them.
“Once,” she said softly, “when my friends and family neglected me with a sunburn, Peter McCarthy walked one whole mile in the summer heat to get me aloe at the market.”
“I remember that,” Kate said.
“Me, too,” Tessa said. “It launched your Debbie Gibson obsession.” She shuddered. “So painful.”
Vivien laughed, looking at these wonderful women—who did have a real history and emotional connection with her—and realized they only had her best interest at heart. Someday, she’d have to move on. But was that…today?
No. Yes. Maybe .
“I can’t just go…ask him to walk with me.”
Tessa snorted. “As if he wouldn’t jump at the chance.”
Would he?
“I’ll go with you,” Kate offered. “I always walk after dinner and Eli frequently comes with me. Let’s go down together and tell them we’re taking a walk.”
“And I’ll tell Jonah I need him back up here,” Tessa said. “He’s helping with the menu descriptions Garrett expects tomorrow. He had some awesome ideas.”
After a beat, Lacey crossed her arms, looking more like a mother than a daughter. “Go. This is an order.”
“Lacey…”
“Come on, Mom. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Vivien stared at her and Tessa inched closer, fighting a smile.
“She’ll get lost … in his eyes ,” she sang, cracking them up.
“You”—Vivien pointed at the sassy blonde—“shut it. And you.” She turned her finger to Lacey. “Don’t get your hopes up. And you.” She pivoted to Kate. “Get your sneakers and let’s go, uh…”—she gave a playful wiggle of her eyebrows—“talk to the boys.”
Somehow, with zero awkwardness and lots of laughs, Vivien found herself walking the beach with Peter, well behind Kate and Eli, who were marching like they had actual calories to burn or a place to go.
She and Peter, on the other hand, stopped and looked at shells, took a few pictures of the sunset, and continued talking as they had before and during dinner.
“Amazing how this beach hasn’t changed,” he noted, staring out at the horizon as the sky deepened to twilight purple.
“Only in that direction.” She gestured toward the houses, the harbor, and the town of Destin. “Big changes over there.”
“But the beach is forever. And this one? It’s one of the reasons I live in Florida.”
She frowned, thinking of the life and career trajectory he’d mentioned. “I guess I thought you were in Pensacola because of the military. Isn’t there a base there, too? Like Eglin is here?”
“The Naval Air Station is there, but I was in the Air Force and spent most of my time at Lackland, in Texas. Never went overseas or saw combat.”
“What did you do?” she asked.
“From day one, I was on a law enforcement path. Got a base patrol position after about eighteen months and then I ended up in what they call Security Forces on bases. Basically a military cop. I loved Texas and I loved being in the Air Force. We were right outside San Antonio, and it was a great place to live.”
“Why did you leave?”
He gave a wry tip of his head. “For love.”
“Really? Your…wife?”
“Ex,” he said with a sad sigh. “She did not want to be a military wife or raise military brats, so I got out. She wanted to live in Florida on the beach, and Pensacola seemed like the closest place to Texas that’s still a Florida beach town. And it was the Panhandle, which had such good memories for me.”
“The Destin summers,” she said, knowing that’s what he meant.
“Yep. I didn’t have the greatest family up in Atlanta, as you might recall, so I wanted to come back to the place where I had…a real family.”
“Ours?” For some reason, that surprised her.
“Absolutely. My parents were divorced—not sure if you remember that—and when I came here with the Lawsons and the Wylies, I could…” He slid her a sly, maybe even a sad, smile. “Pretend I was one of you.”
“Oh, Peter. I don’t think I really knew that.”
He shrugged and bent over to pick up a broken shell, tossing it after a quick inspection. “I didn’t talk about it much, and Eli’s too much of a guy to share stuff like that. Anyway, I went through police training and got a job with the Pensacola force, and I’ve been there ever since.”
“Raised your boys there,” she said, remembering him talking about his sons, Cameron and Connor. “And is your ex-wife still there, too?”
“She is, but…” She heard the pain in his voice, sharp and clear.
“Bad divorce?” she guessed.
“Is there such a thing as a good divorce?” he asked, then his expression softened. “Eli mentioned you’re in the throes of one now.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I am, sadly.”
“I’m sorry. Mine was years ago and I still hate talking about it.”
“Really?” Her heart dropped. “You mean it doesn’t get easier?”
He shook his head and snagged another shell. “There’s nothing about divorce that’s easy, but I guess if I could go back and do things differently, I would.”
“You’d try to work it out?” she guessed.
“No,” he said on a dry laugh. “There was no working it out. But I would try not to…” He cringed. “Hate each other. Turns out, when marriage isn’t forever, divorce is. If there’s any advice I can give you, it’s stay friends with your ex. Be civil, be nice, and make it easier on your daughter.”
“Oh.” She slowed her step, the words hitting hard in light of the conversation she’d had earlier than evening with Ryan.
“I’m sure you’re at that point where it could go either way,” he said, accurately interpreting her reaction.
“It could,” she agreed, dragging out the word and standing still to process what he was saying. “But I’m really trying not to, you know, be a pushover.”
“Big difference between being a pushover and being a good human being,” he said. “I always hate the trip up there, but the view from the high road is better.” He added a self-deprecating laugh. “Not that I took it when my marriage ended, which is why I’m offering this unsolicited advice. It will make it all better—not easier, but better—if you can remain on good terms.”
Sighing softly, she closed her eyes because she knew in her heart he was right. “He asked me for a favor earlier,” she said. “And I thought I’d take a stand and say no.”
“Yeah, I totally get that. But what feels good now might not serve you well in the future,” he said, giving her a long look that had old pain openly on display.
“Hey, this is a walk!” Eli called, yanking them from the conversation as he and Kate came plowing back from the other direction. “Not a stand-around-and-chat. A walk!”
They both gave hollow laughs and simultaneous thumbs-up.
“We’ll be right there,” Vivien said as they headed toward the house. Then she turned back to Peter, looking up and seeing honesty and friendship and a man who’d given her good advice. “Thank you,” she said. “I really needed to hear this tonight.”
“Look, I don’t know the soft underbelly of your marriage, Vivien, or how you think or what he’s like or…anything really. But I’m an investigator, so I can read people pretty well. I think you might be confusing being kind with being weak. They’re not the same.”
“Oh.” She reached for his arm. “You’ve always been very kind, Peter, and put other people first. Clearly, you haven’t changed that much.”
He smiled, then looked up when Eli whistled at them.
“Sir, yes, sir!” Peter called with a sharp salute, then he gave Vivien a friendly nudge. “Let’s get back before we’re on KP for violation of beach code.”
Laughing, she jogged with him, ready to follow his advice.