On His Honor (9 page)

“Y
OU
LOOK
DIFFERENT
THIS
MORNING
,”
Avery said. “Sleep well?”

“I did,” Violet responded. That wasn’t the real reason she was lighter of heart, of course, but she wasn’t ready to tell Avery about JD. He’d only worry about her and insist on meeting JD so he could be all big brother about it. He’d earned the right to do it, though, after years of watching out for her and being the most real person in her life, the one she trusted most after her family.

But he’d also feel bad that he wasn’t the one introducing her to Austin and standing guard over her. He was under enough strain without her making things worse. He was faithful about visiting, busy or not, and searching for treats to brighten her day took even more time she sensed he couldn’t spare.

So she turned the tables. “You, on the other hand, look terrible. Is there anything I can do?”

His expression clouded, but almost instantly he smoothed it over with a fond smile. “Just some…unexpected difficulties to iron out, and only I can solve them. But that’s life, eh? Success comes with a price tag…but you know how that is.”

“Aren’t you the person who kept urging me to hire people to help? And not to micromanage but let them do their jobs? Are you heeding your own advice?”

“Well, listen to you. Want to be my management consultant?” He shook his head and sighed. “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you so badly. When I persuaded you to come to Austin, I thought I’d have more time to spend entertaining you.”

“Avery,” she chided. “We’re long past that. You’re my best friend. You have a life. You’ve made time for me every day since I got here, and even when we’re half a country apart, you’re always there for me. It goes both ways. I’m not company. We’re practically family.”

For a moment he looked unutterably sad, and she found herself wanting to hug him and make whatever was bothering him all better.

But their relationship had always been strictly hands-off, though she wasn’t sure why. He was an attractive, intelligent man who, in many ways, should have been perfect for her.

But he was far too crucial to her as a friend. If that door to more had ever been open, it was long ago, and she had the sense that neither of them wanted to risk messing up what they had.

“I just…” He rested his head against the high back of the willow chair under the pergola. “I thought it would be like the old days, where we could hang out, have some laughs. Be young again.”

“You’re thirty-nine, Avery, hardly rest-home material.”

He smiled, but even that was weary. “I know, Vee, it’s just—” His cell rang again, and he swore vividly before answering. “Lofton.” Whatever he heard had his brows snapping together. “Jesus Christ, can’t it wait? What does he want?” He sat up straight as he listened, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “Where is Sage?” If anything, his jaw went tighter. “Get a hold of her and tell her to come in— No, I don’t care if she doesn’t usually get up this early.” A deep sigh. “It’s not your fault.” His voice softened. “If he calls again, tell him to keep his shirt on. One of us will get back to him.” He finished the call and stared off into the distance.

“I can walk around while you make your call,” she offered.

“Huh?” His head whipped around as he struggled back from wherever he was mentally. “Oh. No, but thank you. It’ll take more than just a phone call.” He slapped his palms on his legs then rose. “I’m sorry, damned sorry this keeps happening. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He gave her the quick one-two L.A. air kiss and stepped away, clearly preoccupied. “I just can’t tell you when.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m doing fine, I swear.” She traced an X over her heart. “Thanks for dropping by.”

But he was already heading off, shoulders rounded. She’d never seen him like this before. Oh, Avery wasn’t playful like JD—he’d always tended more toward the serious, but then, he’d had to be. His father had abandoned Avery and his mother when Avery was only twelve, and he’d had to grow up fast. If his mother hadn’t died when he was in high school, Violet doubted he would have ever pursued his acting dream because he’d have stayed back in Colorado to be the man of the family.

Now Violet was his only family. He’d taken her on to protect, just as she’d tried to care for him by getting him roles.

She didn’t know this world he was involved in now, hadn’t met or spoken to anyone at his club but him. In fact, he’d always made certain she had his personal cell number and always called her back promptly. So she had no idea how to help him or give him relief from his burdens except to stay out of his way and accept whatever time he could give her.

But that didn’t stop her from worrying over him or wishing she had the power to smooth those frown lines away.

After a moment of staring off in the direction he’d departed, Violet shook herself and looked around the grounds, trying to figure out how to occupy herself until she might have the opportunity to hear from JD. She decided to walk over to the main building and see if she could tempt Sophie into putting her to work so she wouldn’t feel so restless.

Instead, about ten paces into her journey, as if she’d conjured him up, her phone rang, and it was JD. With a smile, she answered.

“Hello?”

“Mornin’, Glory.”

“That’s what my daddy calls me,” she said.

“I have to confess you don’t make me feel particularly paternal.” His baritone voice got a little husky. He cleared his throat. “Hope that doesn’t bother you.”

Her heart gave a foolish little flutter. “I think it would bother me a lot more if I did have that effect.”

She heard him exhale. “You make it difficult for a man to think clearly.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so proud of yourself.”

She chuckled. “So how was class today?”

A slight hesitation. “I don’t teach every day. I sometimes get called in on other stuff.”

“Like what?” She chewed her lip. “Dangerous work?”

“Naw. Mostly just lending another set of experienced eyes to put the pieces together. I was on the streets, then I worked Vice for a while.”

“Sort of a cop consultant, is that it? You could make big money in L.A., consulting on scripts.”

He snorted. “From what I see on film and TV, I don’t think the script writers are listening to their experts. Either that, or their experts really aren’t experts.”

“Oh, really? Not real enough for you, Mr. Policeman?”

“Do I hear insult in your voice, Hollywood?”

“Not really, just…I always do a lot of research for my parts.”

“You ever played a cop?”

“Only in a romantic comedy.”

“There you go.”

“Excuse me, but comedy is difficult to pull off, much harder than drama, I’ll have you know. If you ever tried it, you’d see what I mean.”

“Whoa, now. I also wasn’t insulting what you do. You happen to be very good at it.”

“But it’s all anyone wants to see me do. I’m tired of being typecast.”

“That last film sure broke the mold. You got nominated all over the place for it, didn’t you?”

“But I didn’t win the Golden Screen Award.”

“Well, that’s because the voters were blind. And jealous.”

Stated so simply, as though there was no question, his response warmed her. “I was really disappointed,” she confided. She’d said that to no one else, not even Avery.

“But you know you gave an excellent performance, right?”

She nodded, though he couldn’t see her. “I did. I gave it my all.”

“That’s the real reward, isn’t it? Knowing that you put everything you had into it? You don’t control the rest, but with what you could control, you hit the ball out of the park.”

Listening to him was like having a thorn removed from tender skin. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For bringing me back to common sense. You’re absolutely right—I was focusing on the wrong thing. Usually, I’m fine knowing I did the best job I could, though of course I have to be careful about which roles I choose because the films have to make money. That’s all most of Hollywood worries about, not critical acclaim. I mean, acclaim is nice, but the money guys only care about that if it increases box office. As an artist, though, you don’t perform for the money. You do it because it satisfies something in you that needs to create. Performing on stage is actually much more rewarding—you get immediate feedback from your audience. In film, you shoot it out of order and in pieces, and the only feedback you get is from the cast and crew, but all of them have their agendas. At least until you see it with a test audience, and then—” She halted. “Sorry. Talking too much about things you can’t possibly be interested in.”

“You don’t know me well enough to be familiar with what I’m interested in.”

A dose of reality. “That’s true.”

“So you shouldn’t be worrying about whether I’m bored or not. Tell you what—I’ll be sure to snore real loud if you put me to sleep, that a deal?”

He made her smile. “Deal. But anyway, I’m done nattering on.”

“Not nattering, but we can save it until I see you. Did I give you time to visit with your friend?”

“You did.”

“So your dance card is freed up?”

“It is. How about yours?”

“I decided to take some vacation days. I’ve got too many stacked up.”

“Oh, JD, I don’t want to—”

“They were so happy to see me go, they practically carried me out the door. The rest of today, I’m all yours—that is, if you don’t get sick of me.”

That span of time loomed bright on the horizon. “Well, I’ll snore really loud if I get bored,” she echoed.

He laughed. “A clever woman is worth her weight in gold, my dad always says. ’Course that’s because my mom is scary intelligent and would bean him with a skillet if he said otherwise.”

Violet grinned widely. “I would love to meet your family. Maybe to commiserate.”

“Well, ouch.”

“Do they live nearby?”

“Nope. They’re way out in Lubbock, where I grew up.”

“Your brothers there, too?”

“One is. He farms cotton with my dad. The oldest one. The good son.”

“And what are you?”

“The baby boy.”

“You have my condolences. I’m the baby girl.”

“I knew I liked you. So do your brothers think you don’t have the brains God gave a flea, and your mom still calls you her baby? And everybody believes they need to tell you how to do every last thing?”

“It’s a little scary how well you know my family.”

“Amen. When I have kids, I’m letting the little one boss everybody around and making the big kids take orders.”

She giggled. “You want kids?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, I wasn’t in any hurry and I’m still not, well, not exactly, but…things I see in my line of work remind me often that you don’t know how much time you have. I guess I’m finally about tired of fooling around. Might even have to grow up, sad as that is to have to say.”

“So is Mrs. Cameron all picked out?”

“Uh…no. Not even on the horizon. I did say
about
tired of fooling around. How about you?” He hissed as he remembered. “Sorry. Forgot. Honest, Violet, I said that without thinking.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not.”

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me. Yes, that’s a painful subject, but mostly because I’m the only divorced person in my family in anyone’s memory, and here I am, a two-time loser.”

“There’s not one ounce of loser in you.”

She hesitated, then confessed her fear, “Maybe there’s something in me, some ingrained failing.”

“That’s ridiculous. Neither man deserved you.”

She sighed. “Even if that’s true, how come I have such poor judgment?”

“’Cause you’re a romantic, just like your movies.”

She did a mental double take. “Wow. I never looked at it that way.”

“There’s no shame in it, Violet. The world needs more romantics. Where would we be if no one believed in love?”

Her heart squeezed. “I do want children, but I can’t seem to figure out how to find their father first.”

“You could be a modern woman and have them without a man.”

“No. No, I couldn’t. Or at least, I won’t. I know it’s terribly old-fashioned, but I believe in the traditional family. I don’t pass judgment on others, but I really hope I can manage to follow in my parents’ footsteps. I know a lot of single mothers who do an excellent job raising their children, but it’s a hard life for them, and it’s lonely. There’s enough of a romantic in me to keep hoping I’ll find that one man who loves me for myself and who wants to build a home and a family together.” She sighed. “But in my business, that’s not easy. Zane is one of the few who’s managed it.”

“He’s a good dad. All the men in that family are.”

“They remind me of my father and brothers that way.”

“Mine, too.”

They fell silent for a moment.

“Well!” he said brightly. “Now that I’ve got you all bummed out, I’m sure you’d like nothing better than to spend the rest of the day with me.”