“It was an experiment, that’s it.”
I can tell he’s pissed off about my accusation, but screw it. He brought it all up. “So you wrote a screenplay about what it feels like to be an objectified man taking his clothes off to survive and you sold your story to a network. I’m happy for you, Fletcher. And I think you’re going places. Selling this house is probably going to set you on a path to success. And I wish you all the best. But I was raised by a prostitute, Fletcher. So excuse me if I didn’t have the highest regard for your path to redemption.”
His mouth gapes open for a second.
“Yeah, my mother sold herself to save me. And she got what she thought she wanted too. But she never loved my father. And once I came to terms with that, I started to doubt her love for me as well. It’s a shitty thing to be lied to under the pretense that it’s for your own good. And you did that to me too. Did you even like me? Or was I just another project? Was I just another girl you needed to fix to make yourself feel important and in control of your own destiny?”
“That’s not what it was,” he sneers.
“That’s because you and I see it from opposite sides, Fletcher. And you’re so goddamned sure that you walk on water, you can’t even be bothered to wonder if my point of view is even worthy of your consideration.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I don’t stop her when she walks out.
I don’t stop her because everything she just said hits me in the chest like a brick. It stops me dead.
Instead I sit back down and stare out at the water, wondering if Samantha feels the same way about me as Tiffy does. Wondering if, in the process of trying to fix things, all I did was fuck them up more.
I pull out my phone and tab Sam’s contact. She picks up on the third ring, kids laughing in the background. “Hey,” she says, a little out of breath. “How’d it go?”
Samantha moved out of the mansion last September. She graduated from nursing school and sat me down that night, thanking me for all my help, but anxious to take control of her life and make it on her own. “Got an offer,” I say without much enthusiasm.
“Great!” But my silence betrays my thoughts. She knows me too well. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“Fletcher,” she says in that stern voice she uses with me often these days. “We’ve been over this. I don’t need that house. And you’re selling for all the right reasons. I don’t want you to keep it because you think you owe us. Or,” she adds quickly, “because you think your granddad would be disappointed. He had no way of knowing how it would all turn out. He doesn’t want you to struggle. He wants you to live a good life and put the past to rest. And even with the Hollywood money, it’s a big commitment to keep that property.”
“I know,” I say. But my fight with Tiffy is weighing on my mind right now.
“You don’t need to take care of us anymore, Fletch. We’re good. And I’m so thankful. But I can’t steal your life away just because you feel obligated.”
Her words are just another brick hitting my chest. “I’m gonna take the offer,” I say.
“Good.” She laughs. “Good. I’m so happy for you, Fletcher. Really.” There’s some squealing of girls in the background and I know she and Shells are at a friend’s house for a pool party.
“Well, I’ll let you guys get back to the fun.” I force the cheerfulness into my voice so she won’t ask any more questions. “I just wanted to let you know.”
“Congrats, Fletcher. Talk to you soon.”
I end the call and lie back on the sand, letting the wind whip around my body. It’s hard to let Samantha go. And I bet it was even harder for her to take her life into her own hands and trust that she had what it took to make it on her own. Walker is still hanging around and part of me suspects that Sam wanted some distance from me so she could sort out her feelings for him.
That hurts too, since I was the one who was there for her and Shelly. He walked out, just like his name implies. Too many big dreams to be saddled with a high school girlfriend and a new baby. Walker and I had this competitive gene that hooked us when we were kids and never let go. So I wonder… did I step in for Samantha and Shelly? Or did I just want to prove to my brother that I was a better man than him?
Tiffy’s doubts about her mother’s love have shattered my preconceived notions about what I have been doing all these years. Will Shelly grow up thinking she was an obligation that needed to be dealt with? Handled like a problem? Will she accuse me of stealing her mother’s life? Will she accuse her mother of taking the easy way out? Will she doubt my love for her because I felt the need to provide? Step in and save them under the guise of doing the right thing?
I don’t want that.
And it’s not gonna happen. But none of these changes were because of me. It was Samantha who took things into her own hands and made the hard choices. It was Samantha who said no to our arrangement and decided there was more to life than… stability.
That word echoes in my mind and more of what makes Tiffy tick starts to make sense.
So I tab another contact and wait for my realtor to pick up. “Take the offer,” I say. “And keep me posted.”
I listen half-heartedly to his enthusiasm on the other end of the line for a few seconds, and then I end that call too.
I don’t go back inside the house. It’s just too much right now. They want to buy it furnished, which I can understand. It makes sense if you like the decor. Filling up all that space with new things is an expense that costs both time and money.
But it hurts. I took what I wanted before the first showing. All the things that tugged at my heart. But it still hurts.
So I weigh my next move in my head. Back to LA tonight? Or sort things out with Tiffy?
In the end that decision is made for me. Because when I finally make my way back to the driveway, on the windshield of my car, tucked under the wipers, is a ticket for the opening night of the new Mountain Men show at the Landslide Hotel.
If she’s still interested, then so am I.
I’m all in.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I stand backstage, peeking out through the curtain, staring at the auditorium doors while everyone else bustles around me getting ready for the show.
“Just go sit at your table,” Claudio tells me for the billionth time. “He’s coming, I know it.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Tiffy,” Claudio says, taking my face in his hands. “The man is in love with you. He hasn’t said it yet, but he is. He’s coming.”
“We had a fight, Claudio. And we didn’t part on good terms. And he said he was going back to LA—”
But my words catch because Fletcher Novak walks in.
He’s… stunning. Dark jeans that accentuate his legs and taper down just right. A white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, casually, owning the look like no other man I’ve ever seen. And his blond hair is combed back, the unruly loose wave of curls trying to break free as they brush against his shoulders when he turns his head.
Is he searching for me?
I take a deep breath.
“Go. Sit with him.”
“God, I’m so nervous. What if we argue again? It will kill me.”
“He’s here, Tiffy. Don’t let him get away.” Claudio kisses me on the lips, and lets go of my face so he can get back to work. “I’ll handle everything, girlfriend,” he calls over his shoulder. “Go get your sexy on.”
I laugh, and then slip back behind the curtain and make my way out to the auditorium through the side door.
The event is sold out. People called the hotel for months complaining after the show was cancelled. It was the only thing they cared about. The magician is good, and it will be nice to have two shows, but I’m banking on the Mountain Men to make this hotel a success.