Cherishing You (Thirsty Hearts Book 3) (5 page)

L
uckily
, Vivienne Moran had a couple of hours free in the afternoon on Thursday. Jonah skipped out of work and drove to a diner near Vivienne’s studio. A tumult of jangling nerves rang inside him.

He wanted Vivienne to like Shannon, even though he tried not to think about why. His sister pressed him for more details about her and why he wanted to help her. Jonah had none except that when he saw how hard she worked and heard her talk about what she wanted her life to be, he felt compelled. The end game for that compulsion played hide and seek on the edges of his mind. He only wanted to help her and have some fun with her.

Jonah relied on his inherited ability to avoid examining his feelings and parked his car. Walking up to the shining chrome door, a honk got his attention. His sister slipped into a parking space next to his, so Jonah waited.

“You didn’t drive over with your friend?” she asked, walking through the door Jonah held open for her.

“No,” Jonah answered, squeezing his brow into a befuddled wrinkle.

Vivienne rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Jonah. You act as if you offer up personalized, charitable career assistance for many a needy soul. How pretty is she?”

He paused. When she relaxed and laughed, the years of strain fell away from her eyes and she dazzled. Most of the time, however, the armor of her past disguised her pixie-like face, wide blue eyes, and perfect, pink bow lips.

Superficially, she couldn’t match the youthful, well-heeled beauties that typically dangled on his arm. Of course, for those women, hardship was showing up at a posh social event wearing the same outfit as a rival.

Shannon had lived a life. It showed, but somehow, it didn’t stifle his attraction. Quite the opposite.

“She’s pretty, but that has nothing to do with this.”

Vivienne laughed herself breathless while Jonah asked the hostess to show them to a table for three.

“Of course, it does. And you said she’s a waitress? Good luck with that.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do you think our parents are going to be okay with your dating a waitress?”

“Number one, we’re not dating. Number two, it’s none of their business. And number three, at least she’s a woman.”

Vivienne rolled her eyes. “You can’t keep throwing my lesbianism in their faces thinking that gets you a free pass for the rest of your life. I’ve got mom almost okay with my being gay as long as I become a power lesbian in the gay social scene. She’s almost giddy at the prospect of a new world to conquer.”

Jonah wanted to argue, but he knew his sister had a point. Eventually, being straight wouldn’t be enough to keep his parents off his back for dating a waitress with a child and two ex-husbands.

“All I want to do is help a woman who needs it. I met her at the Scarlet Maple. She had some trouble, and I got to know her on a more…personal basis,” Jonah explained. His sister smirked. “Not that kind of personal. It’s a friendship. Do you remember Nick’s friend Jeff? Micky’s friend’s husband?”

“Sure.”

“Shannon was married to Jeff a while ago. They have a daughter together.”

“How sweet. A single mother in need.” Vivienne clasped her hands together and tilted her head to the side, glaring.

“Be nice.”

Vivienne sighed. “I don’t mean to be nasty. I mean for you to be careful. Not just for you, but for her. You can get enamored and start something up with her, but you can’t expect for our parents and the rest of the people we know to accept her. It won’t end well.”

“I’m supposed to check to see how blue someone’s blood is before I date them?”

“Of course not. But think of how long it took Dad to get used to Nick when he and I dated? And Nick was a top-recruited attorney at a leading law firm.”

Vivienne’s last, and final, boyfriend grew up in a blue-collar neighborhood in East Dallas.

“I don’t think—” Jonah stopped mid-sentence and broke into a smile. “There she is.”

Jonah stood up for Shannon as she walked toward the table, pulling out her chair.

“Shannon, this is Vivienne, my sister. Vivienne, this is my friend Shannon.” Jonah sat down, watching keenly as Vivienne shook Shannon’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Vivienne.” Shannon glanced at Jonah.

“Lovely to meet you too. My brother was just telling me how you met.” Vivienne smoothed her sleek platinum bob with her manicured hand.

Jonah saw a pink flush spread up Shannon’s neck.

“I told her that you wait tables at the Scarlet Maple. She knows that I eat there nearly every day,” Jonah explained.

“Oh, yeah, I started working there a few months ago.” Shannon exhaled.

“But you’re interested in design?” Vivienne asked.

“I enjoy decorating, and I’ve always sketched. Sometimes I sketch people and clothing, but I also sketch houses that I like. Places I’ve been that strike me, you know?”

Shannon pulled a thick notebook out of her massive purse.

“This is a book I’ve pulled together for my new place. The landlord told me I could paint and do some other decorating as long as I can put it back to how it was before I move out.”

For a moment, Shannon hesitated to hand the notebook to Vivienne, and Jonah raised his brows in encouragement. She drew her top lip between her teeth, placing the book in Vivienne’s outstretched hands. Jonah prayed that Vivienne would like what she saw when she opened it.

“I have it organized by room with paint chips and some clippings from magazines. And then I have some sketches with how I plan to arrange furniture and do curtains and stuff. Most of it I’ll never be able to do. I can’t really afford to buy all new furniture, but I wanted to capture the best I think the space could look.”

Shannon forced herself to stop talking. Vivienne probably thought she was a rambling idiot. And talking about what she couldn’t afford? Shannon mentally cursed herself.

Jonah’s sister looked exactly as Shannon thought she would. She had the same silvery coloring as Jonah, only paler. Jonah was blond where Vivienne was platinum, and her eyes had an other-worldly translucence. Tall, slim, pale, and perfect.

Her brightly printed dress bore the signature pattern of a famous designer. The sheath draped off her shoulders as if it were cut for her body, which it probably had been. Shannon doubted Vivienne wore anything but couture clothing. She’d never be seen at the discount store buying the one dress she could for the entire summer.

“You have some fascinating ideas. The space is small, but this,” Vivienne paused and pointed, “is a clever seating arrangement. Do you have this divan?”

“No. I saw something like that at World Market. You can fold the sides down, and it’s a bed. Kind of like a futon. You can see my reality sketch a couple of pages over. That’s just the dream sketch.”

“Why do both?” Jonah asked.

“I like to start without any limits to my ideas. Then, I can scale it back for my budget. And who knows, I might get some version of that sofa down the line. Probably not that exact one.”

“It’s an Italian designer. That piece runs at about fifteen thousand.” Vivienne looked up from Shannon’s book.

“There’s no reason to say you’ll never be able to have that.” Jonah kept his eyes on his sister. Shannon caught the current of challenge between them.

“I probably won’t, Jonah, but I like the lines of it and the color. Anyway, I have a ton of stuff in there.” Shannon longed to shift away from a discussion of what she could and could not afford now or in her dreams.

Vivienne flipped to the very back of the book. A twinge of panic shot through Shannon.

“Where’s this?”

“Oh, that’s not my house. It belongs to a friend of mine. It’s huge. They have six bedrooms and three living areas. And the kitchen is amazing. The wife decorated it her way, but just being in there, I have my own ideas.”

Jonah leaned over the table to see what his sister was talking about. Before Shannon could object, Vivienne held up the page.

“That’s Jeff and Taryn’s house,” Jonah noted.

Shannon pressed her tongue into the side of her cheek, not knowing what to tell him.

“It’s the biggest house I’ve ever seen. It has so many different spaces. I just…I had a ton of ideas as soon as I went there,” Shannon chattered. Her heart pounded inexplicably, and she had to tear herself away from Jonah’s questioning face.

“That’s the sign of a designer,” Vivienne interjected with a reassuring smile. “It would be impossible for me to walk into a home like that and not have a million ideas.”

“Then maybe you’re already on your way,” Jonah replied tersely. The way he set his jaw made Shannon feel guilty, and she didn’t know why.

What did he care if she dreamed about living in a house like Jeff’s? Who wouldn’t? The world never denied him anything, so he didn’t understand what it was like to have to aspire to something better than what you have. He’d probably never envied anyone. Why would he?

Vivienne handed Shannon’s book back and pulled a card out of her slim shoulder bag. “We should order some lunch. I’ll have to get back to the office, and I’m sure you and Jonah have places to be as well.”

Vivienne continued, handing Shannon the card. “I can’t promise you much, but if you have time every week to come into my studio, I could take on an assistant. It’s not design work, but you could get some experience and see how the business works. Would you be interested in that?”

“Absolutely.” Shannon knew not to hesitate.

“Take a look at your schedule and see how many hours you might have per week or per month. I can be flexible.”

Shannon beat back the doubts in her mind. Between double shifts, Olivia, and sleeping, she had no idea where she’d find time to take on another commitment. She supposed she could cut out a couple of doubles per month, but that would cost her money she needed for school. Somehow, she’d have to work it out. Make more sacrifices.

“We can talk about your compensation when you come in, and you know how many hours you’ll be able to work.”

Shannon couldn’t hold back her surprised smile.

“Of course, she’s going to pay you,” Jonah declared.

“I didn’t expect that. I guess, I shouldn’t say that. Terrible negotiating tactic, huh?” Shannon snickered.

Vivienne winked like her brother. “We’ll work on that. Now, let’s order.”

Falling into this pile of luck stunned Shannon. She had a feeling Jonah pressured his sister to help her, but she couldn’t worry about that.

She still needed to work out a new schedule with Penny. What if she couldn’t get the time off from the restaurant? She made good money with tips. She needed that job. Shannon dug her thumb into the side of her thigh.

Stop it! Shannon vowed not to let desperation make her decision for her. Those decisions always threw her into the ditch. She had to keep her goals in mind. You can get what you want.

Shannon repeated the thought to herself throughout lunch and all the way back to her house, allowing herself to believe that she would.

J
onah spent
the rest of the day pleased he could connect Shannon to the possibility of a new future. That his sister could help only added to the joy he felt. In some small way, they both could improve the family karma.

If ever Jonah forgot the need for familial redemption, the universe always sent a reminder. Today, that reminder showed up as a message from Trevor Stiges. A reflexive sigh escaped Jonah’s lips.

For some reason, writing the young man a check for $ last year led Mr. Stiges to think they had a burgeoning…friendship or mentorship…something. Jonah didn’t understand it. He only met the kid once. Well, not kid. Trevor was twenty-two.

Since that meeting where the check changed hands, Trevor called regularly—not for money, surprisingly. The first voicemail wished Jonah a Happy New Year. Then, Trevor called for business advice when he advanced to a management position at the tech support company where he worked. Another time, he needed an accountant.

Jonah, again and again, felt drawn to help—strange considering how Trevor entered their lives. Even he didn’t understand why he was returning Trevor’s latest call, but he was.

“Jonah. Hey. Thanks for calling me back. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“Neither was I. I keep thinking that when I told you I considered matters between my family and yours settled, I assumed I wouldn’t hear from you again, but I have.”

Trevor met Jonah’s irritation with silence.

“Why did you call, Trevor?”

“Maybe we should talk face to face.”

“No.”

“I think that would be better.”

Jonah grew exasperated. “What do you want, Trevor?”

“It’s my mother.”

Arianna Stiges, Trevor’s mother, had been Tom Moran’s mistress and, at one-time, a Moran Financial vice president. Jonah first came across her name while investigating some accounting irregularities at the company. The ledgers showed regular payments to a consultant with no apparent work product. When the numbers couldn’t line up, Jonah went to his father. Tom Moran’s explanation shocked Jonah—even considering what he already knew about his parents’ marriage.

The affair started nearly thirty years ago and lasted until, according to Tom, Arianna became obsessive. He ended the entanglement, fired her, and did his best to drive her out of town by making sure she couldn’t get another job locally in financial services.

To her credit, Arianna fought back. She threatened to tell Sheila, and then she threatened to sue the company. In the end, Jonah’s father did what he always did. He solved the crisis with money—buying the woman a house and paying her off for over twenty years.

After discovering his father’s scheme eight years ago, Jonah ordered his father to move the personal business—and Arianna’s consulting “service”—off the corporate books and repay the company for the prior expense.

Then, he went on as if the episode hadn’t happened—except for occasionally using the information as leverage when his father’s predatory impulses got out of hand.

Jonah thought the matter settled until last year. His father decided he’d had enough of paying an old mistress to keep quiet. Trevor told him the loss of income and other personal troubles had proved too much for his mother. She swallowed some pills and ended up in the hospital.

Angry, he devised an ill-conceived plot to blackmail Vivienne. The pictures of Vivienne embracing another woman threw his sister into a panic, but Jonah had handled it.

He picked up where his father left off, writing the son a check for a quarter of a million dollars with the understanding that it was the last dollar the Moran family would send their way.

“What’s happened with your mother?”

“I had to move her back into a facility. She’s not doing well, but I…I don’t have the money to pay for it.”

“I thought she started back to work. Doesn’t she have insurance?”

“Not that covers the full cost.”

“That’s what the money I already gave you was for.”

“I know. I paid the emergency room bill, her old hospital bill, and others, but you’d be surprised how quick you can run through money when doctors and hospitals are involved.”

Jonah hesitated and then lied. He couldn’t let Trevor think he was a limitless ATM—no matter how real his trouble. “I have nothing else to give you.”

“Really? Nothing?” Trevor huffed. “Not even your father?”

Jonah laughed. “Then call him. You’ll get even less, and he won’t be nice about it. When my father is done, he’s done. When he sent your mother a check with the note that it would be his last, he meant it.”

“She’s owed way more than that, and you know it.”

“I did know it, Trevor. That’s why I rearranged my finances to give you what I could last year.”

“You did that because I threatened you.”

“Maybe, but that’s not an issue anymore. My sister came out, so what do you have to threaten me with now?”

“I could tell the world what your father did. I can let them know what your family is really like.”

“Anyone who’d care about that already knows. You need to give up the blackmail business, Trevor. You’re terrible at it.” Jonah blasted the younger man in a tone he knew would squelch Trevor’s weak threat.

Trevor sighed, desperate. “I had to try. I make seventeen dollars an hour doing tech support, and even with the insurance, Mom’s care is over eleven grand a month, not including her medication. You tell me where I can get that kind of money.”

“I don’t know.” Jonah replied, reminding himself this wasn’t his problem.

“She’s my mother.”

The crack in the younger man’s voice made Jonah press his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. “Where is she?”

“Ridgeway Treatment Center at the Methodist hospital.”

“Look, I can’t keep giving you money. Regardless of what you might think, I don’t have a bottomless purse filled with disposable cash. But…I can see what I can do.”

“Thanks, Jonah. I knew you’d help.”

“Because I’m such a sucker.”

“Because you’re a good guy, and you know what she’s dealt with.”

Jonah listened to more details from Trevor and hung up the phone. Basically, he was a sucker.