CONFESSIONAL 388.5
Vincent, Vanessa: (CFO, Juniper Ridge)
Trust. Yeah, that’s kind of a big deal to me. When you’re a twin—I mean, assuming you’re close twins—you have this built-in support system. You know someone has your back no matter what. That you can tell her everything and she won’t judge. Having that kind of trust is huge. I don’t know, maybe I’ve unconsciously been looking for that in all my relationships.
That’s why it’s so huge when I do start to trust someone. When I let my guard down and start to think hey, this could be it. This might be someone I could count on. It’s scary and exhilarating and terrifying and crazy and scary and exciting all at once.
Did I already say scary?
“You’re kidding me.” My sister’s outrage is palpable from 5,200 miles away. “What are they going to do if they can’t get the permits?”
“Dean says he’s handling it.” Saying that fills me with equal parts pride and frustration. “He invited the County officials out to do another inspection.”
“Is it really that simple?”
“Probably not. But Dean seemed confident he can make this go away.”
Valerie laughs, remarkably cheerful for as early as it is in Paris. “You always fall for the confident boys, don’t you, Ness?”
My gut churns just a little. “Dean’s not like Raleigh.” Or Bradley. Or Colton. Or my mother. Or—
“I didn’t say he was like Raleigh,” she says. “Speaking of which, I had a text from him.”
“A text? About what?” I’m surprised he still has her number.
“He asked about you, actually. Wanted to know where you’re working, how you’re doing, all that.”
A niggle of unease moves through me. “When was this?”
“I don’t know, maybe a week ago? I didn’t tell him, don’t worry. Why?”
“Nothing. It’s no big deal.”
My sister pauses. “I’m glad you have Dean now.”
“I wouldn’t say I have him, exactly—”
“You’re into him, right?”
“Right, but—”
“You respect him. He makes you laugh. What did you call him? Smart and clever and kind.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean—”
“And he’s amazing in bed.”
I sigh and scratch my dog’s head. “It’s hardly a basis for a relationship, is it?”
Valerie takes her time answering. “That depends. Are you asking because you want me to agree with you, or disagree with you?”
This is the thing about having a twin. You can’t get away with lying to yourself. Not ever. “I don’t know.” I rub the bald spot under my dog’s chin. “I feel a little foolish.”
“About what?”
“I made such a big deal about not wanting a relationship. For crying out loud, I put it in my job application.”
“So?”
“So that makes me pretty flaky, doesn’t it?”
“It makes you human, Nessie. People are allowed to change their minds. It’s growth, not a character flaw.”
I wish I had my sister’s confidence. “Maybe.” I glance at my watch and smile. “He’s coming over tonight.”
“Oh yeah? Maybe if we switch to FaceTime, I can meet him.”
“No.” Then again, I’ve met his siblings. Would it really be that weird? “Okay, maybe.”
“Really?” Val laughs. “I was kidding, but this is awesome. This is fantastic. This is—”
“Why are you so excited about meeting a guy I’m sleeping with?”
“Because you never just introduce me to guys you’re sleeping with. Which means this is serious.”
“I don’t know about serious…”
She does have a point though. I wouldn’t consider introducing anyone else to Val, but with Dean, I feel safe. I want my sister to see him, and I want him to meet her, too.
“Okay, hang on.” I pull the phone from my ear and pull up Dean’s name in my contacts. Before I can second guess myself, I fire off a text.
Still chatting with Val, but do you want to come over anyway? She’d like to say hi.
I stare at the words, hoping they don’t sound too forward. Given the personal nature of this business, it’s not that weird to introduce a colleague to my twin. It doesn’t necessarily mean this is a relationship or that I’m taking this seriously or expecting anything like—
Sounds good. Be right there.
A flutter of joy tickles my chest. I put the phone back to my ear. “Okay, I’m switching to Facetime. He’ll be here in a sec.”
“Oh my God, I can’t wait.” I can practically hear my sister bouncing in her chair, and ten seconds later, I’m seeing it.
As her face fills the frame, my chest fills with a deep fondness blended with melancholy. “You look beautiful.” I soak up the view of her face, which is filled with exactly the kind of radiance you expect from a newlywed. “Did you get highlights?”
She touches her hair. “No, just spending more time in the sun. You look good, too.” She laughs, and this time I can see her dimples. “It’s all that good sex, isn’t it?”
“No comment.” I can’t stop grinning. “Should I go put on lipstick before he gets here?”
“You’re perfect.” She leans forward, peering closer at the screen. “Hang on, you’ve got something on your chin. Marker or something.”
I draw a hand up and brush something sticky at the edge of my jaw. “Chocolate,” I tell her. “I made brownies.”
“Brownies?” She laughs. “You must have it bad if you’re baking.”
“Shut up.” That’s the best retort I can manage before there’s a knock at the door.
Roughneck gives a happy “uff” and jumps off the couch. I follow after him, holding the phone so my sister can see. “I’m nervous,” I whisper. “Why do I feel nervous?”
Val doesn’t hesitate. “Because you care.”
She’s right, though I hate to admit it. “Okay, here we go.” My heart rams itself into my throat as I open the door.
“Hey, Dean.” I step aside to let him in, holding the phone up to give my sister a good look. “Valerie, meet Dean. Dean, meet Valerie.”
“Valerie.” He peers at the screen, then does a double take. “Wow. You really do look alike.”
She laughs, dimples flashing. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
“Same.” Dean slips an arm around my waist and pulls me close. “Don’t hold it against me if I kiss your sister, okay?”
“I hope you’re talking to Val and not me,” I tease as his lips draw close to mine.
“Oooh, this is fun.” Val claps as Dean lands a soft kiss on my lips and draws back. “Nice chemistry, you two,” she adds.
“Thanks.” My cheeks feel hot, but it’s not from embarrassment. I get like this anytime Dean touches me.
He swings his gaze back to my phone, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry. I missed her.”
“So do I,” Val says, “but I doubt she’d grin like that if I walked through the door.”
“Not true.” I adjust the phone so I can see her face, though now Dean’s not in the frame. “You don’t usually greet me like that.”
“This is true.” Val waves a hand. “Give the phone to Dean. He’s got longer arms so I can see both of you at once.”
“Glad I’m good for something.” Dean takes the phone and holds it up for both of us to see. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you.”
Val takes him in, and I know what she’s thinking. She’s waiting for one of the lewd jokes we’ve been peppered with since we were teens. The kind of shit guys say about seeing us kiss or making a twin sister sandwich. Our whole lives it’s been a litmus test, a chance to weed the jerks from guys with real potential.
Dean only smiles. “How are you liking Paris, Valerie?”
“It’s wonderful. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one spot since I started traveling.”
“You’re there a few more months?”
“Until October.” She grins. “You two should totally come visit.”
He looks at me and I hold my breath, hoping she hasn’t been too presumptuous. “That sounds great,” he says. “Paris is beautiful in the fall. Maybe after the show gets going.”
I’m not sure how to take that. Is he making conversation, or is he really thinking long-term? Thinking we’d be at the point of making travel plans together in a few months.
“Let’s go to the couch,” I suggest. “It’s cozier in there, and then Roughneck can be part of the conversation.”
“Perfect,” Val says, beaming. “Did you read him that book I sent about dog heroes?”
“It’s his favorite,” I assure her. “I show him the pictures every time I read it.”
Dean grins. “I even read him a chapter. The one about the dog who saved his mistress from an intruder?”
“I love it,” Val says, clapping her hands together.
We’re passing through the kitchen and Dean inhales deeply. “Valerie, if you were here, I’d definitely offer you some of whatever smells so good.” He shoots me a hopeful grin. “What is that, anyway?”
“Brownies,” I tell him. “They’ve got a couple minutes left, but you can have one as soon as they’re out.”
He clutches his chest and pretends to swoon. “Is it too soon to ask you to marry me?”
I know he’s joking, but I can’t help the rush of heat to my face. Can’t help thinking how different he seems from the guy I met when I first arrived. He’s loosened up a little, joking more than he ever used to. Maybe Oregon agrees with him.
Or maybe, just maybe, it has something to do with me.
Joy fills my chest cavity as we settle together on the sofa. On the phone screen, I see Val assessing our connection. I know her well enough to see approval lighting her face. “Okay, can I just say it’s really weird to be talking to Dean Judson?”
“Weird how?” He looks genuinely curious, and I cross my fingers Val doesn’t launch into her story about the locker posters.
“Just that we grew up seeing you in magazines, and here you are.”
“Uff,” says Roughneck, almost like he’s agreeing. Dropping the purple tiger at Dean’s feet, he hops up beside him and lays his head on Dean’s thigh.
“Looks like you’re dog-approved,” my sister observes. “That’s important.”
“Absolutely.” Dean softly scratches the bald patch around my dog’s neck, keeping his eyes fixed on the phone screen. “It’s kinda cool seeing the differences between you two.”
Val quirks an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“Well, Vanessa’s got those three little freckles next to her eye.” He pauses to point them out, and my skin starts tingling all over again. “And Valerie has dimples.”
“Damn.” My sister feigns another round of applause. “It usually takes ages for people to notice that.”
“If they ever do,” I agree. “Plenty don’t.”
Dean plants a soft kiss on my temple. “I pay attention.”
“No kidding.” Aside from being a generally awesome trait, it’s also what makes him fabulous in bed. As I bite my tongue to keep from saying that out loud, the oven dings.
“Want me to get that?” he asks.
I laugh. “You’re just eager to get your hands on my brownies.”
“That’s true.” He throws me a wink. “But first, I’d like dessert.”
Valerie cracks up as he hands the phone back to me. “Want milk?” he asks.
“Yes, please.”
“On it.”
He’s barely out of earshot when Val makes bug eyes at me. “Oh my God,” she hiss-whispers. “He’s even hotter in person.”
“This isn’t in person.”
“You know what I mean. Not on TV or in magazines or whatever. And the way he looks at you before he kisses you. He’s not just fooling around, Ness.”
I fumble with the volume, struggling to turn it down while wanting desperately for her to continue. “You can’t really tell all that over the phone.”
“Damn right I can,” she insists. “I can read it on your face, too. You’re smitten.”
I consider arguing, but what’s the point?
“Yeah,” I admit, glancing toward the kitchen where Dean is humming what sounds like Beyoncé’s “Crazy in Love” as he cuts up brownies. “I guess I am pretty smitten.”
“Put him back on,” she demands. “I want to ask him questions. Make sure he’s worthy of you and all that.”
“What’s that?” I rub my hand over the phone’s camera, making crackly noises with my mouth. “We must have a bad connection or something. If I lose you—”
“Shut up, dork.” Val’s laughing as her husband slips into the frame behind her.
Josh kisses her temple and hands her a cup of coffee. “Hey, Ness,” he says. “Special delivery latte. Sorry I can’t bring you one.”
“That’s okay. I’m getting brownies.”
“Atta girl.”
My heart feels so full. I love that my sister and I both have good men who bring us drinks and brownies and smile at us like we hung the damn moon. I know it’s early days with Dean, but it just feels right. I trust him, and I’m pretty sure he trusts me. I’ve never had that before, not really.
When I glance back at Val, the look on her face is pure love. She whispers something to Josh as he walks away, and my heart catches in my throat as he trails a hand along her arm. It’s like he can’t bear to stop touching her, and I suddenly want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
As I glance back toward the kitchen, Dean looks up. Grinning, he throws me a wink and mouths two simple words:
You’re beautiful.
God. Could I be falling in love with him?
I shift my gaze back to the phone and see Valerie assessing me. “I’ve never seen you this happy, Ness,” she murmurs. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”
“I’ll try.”
She smiles and sips the wine Josh brought her. “I should go get ready. It’s our one month anniversary, so I’m shopping for a dress to wear to dinner.”
“A romantic anniversary dinner in Paris. Sounds amazing.”
“Say goodbye to Dean for me.” She smiles and lowers her voice to barely a whisper. “I really like him.”
“Me, too.”
“I’m glad it’s more than a fling.” Her words tilt up in an unspoken question, so I answer without thinking.
“Maybe?” I glance toward the kitchen, where Dean’s still humming as he piles brownies on a plate. “I’m glad I have your approval, though. That means a lot.”
She laughs. “Like you’ve ever needed my approval. You just need to trust yourself.”
I have to swallow a couple times to get rid of the lump in my throat. “Thanks. I’ll try.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up as Dean walks back into the room carrying a plate with brownies and a big glass of milk. “Shoot, did I miss her?”
“She had to go, but she said goodbye. Also, she approves of you.”
I say it with a teasing tone, but Dean’s whole face lights up. “Yeah? That’s huge. The sibling approval thing, I mean.”
I pluck a brownie off the plate and take a bite. It’s a little too hot and falling apart, but I scarf it down anyway and reach for the milk. “What do your siblings know?”
“About us, you mean?” He shrugs. “They all know we’re seeing each other.”
“All of them?” I swallow. “Even your brothers?”
“Yep. Everyone approves.”
I wait for more, not sure what else I’m expecting. “So they don’t see any sort of conflict with our work relationship?”
“Nope.” He pops a bite of brownie in his mouth and grins. “They’re nuts about you, and they see I’m happy. That’s pretty much all they need to know.”
“Huh.” Could it really be that simple? My sister approves. His brothers and sisters approve. I know it’s not what I planned when I took this job, but maybe changing my mind isn’t the worst thing. Maybe I could learn to think of it as growth, rather than flakiness.
“What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?” He grabs another brownie off the plate.
“Just wondering how to think about this,” I say slowly. “What we’re doing together, I mean.”
He stares at me blankly for a second, and I realize I’ve just spit out a big mouthful of nothing.
Be brave. Be specific. Be clear.
Dean smiles. “Did I just watch you give yourself a silent pep talk?”
“What?”
“Your lips moved a little.” He cocks his head. “I’m not sure, but I think you told yourself ‘bean bake, beet pacific, bee click.”
And now I’m laughing. “What the hell kind of pep talk is that?”
“Beats me.” He licks brownie off his thumb, then his forefinger. “You’re the one giving it.”
I take a deep breath. “This is me being brave, Dean. This is me telling you that I know I told you I didn’t want a relationship, but these last few weeks have changed my mind. Changed me. I like you a lot, but more than that, I trust you.”
“Wow.” He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s huge.”
The fact that he knows what a big deal it is means so much to me. “Right. It is.”
He laces his fingers through mine and smiles. “Thank you. I feel the same. I know I kinda fucked up my last relationship, and I own that. But being with you—it makes me want to be a better guy. To do better with you because you deserve it. You deserve everything, Vanessa.”
These are not romantic declarations like the kind you’d see in movies. They’re the words of two mistrustful people putting their hearts and vulnerabilities on the line, and that means so much more to me than flowery words could.
“So we’re on the same page,” I say. “We’re dating. In a relationship. Whatever you want to call it.”
Dean grins and squeezes my fingers. “Boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Ew. That sounds like elementary school.”
“I see. So you’ll probably nix ‘schmoopies’ or ‘baes,’ right?”
“Affirmative.” I’m fighting to hold back a smile.
Dean leans back against the couch, throwing an arm around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Let’s see, there’s ‘bed buddies,’ but that’s a little too focused on the sex. We’re more than that, yes?”
“Yes.” I nod in case I wasn’t clear enough. “Definitely, yes.”
“Okay, hmm.” He pretends to think. “Partners?”
“Makes it sound like we’re in business together.”
“Technically, we are, but I get your point.” He pulls me closer and I burrow against the warmth of his chest. “I’m thinking ‘companions’ is a little too geared toward old people.”
“Same with ‘lady friend’ or ‘gentleman friend.’”
“And ‘lovers’ is pretty oogie.”
“For sure.” Talk about TMI.
“What about ‘significant others’?” he tries.
I consider that for a bit. “That could work, but it sounds a little detached. Like we go to a restaurant and one of us is all, ‘my significant other is just parking the car.’”
“You’re right, that won’t do.” He scratches his chin. “We’re running out of options here.”
I circle a hand on his chest as I circle back through the words we’ve tried. On second thought…
“Maybe boyfriend and girlfriend isn’t so bad.” I bite my lip. “If you’re ready to go there, I mean.”
Dean grins like I’ve offered a hand job and a ham sandwich. “I’m ready if you are.”
“I am.” I can’t believe it, but I am.
“Well, in that case, there’s something else I’m ready for.”
“Oh?” I know what he means from the glint in his eye, but I pretend not to get it. “You want more brownies?”
“I want something sweet, but not brownies.” He slips a thumb under my chin and tips my head up to kiss me. It starts out slow and sweet, his tongue brushing mine with the taste of chocolate and heat.
By the time he draws back, I’m panting and clutching at the front of his shirt.
“What do you say we go consummate this official relationship?”
I lean up to kiss him again, breathless with anticipation. “Sounds like a plan.”
When I wake the next morning, Dean’s beside me. That’s new.
“Morning,” he murmurs, rolling over to kiss me softly.
“You didn’t go home.” It’s such an unexpected thrill that I can’t keep from smiling. “Usually you slip out to go exercise or work or whatever you do at your place.”
He laughs and kisses me again. “Figured being in an official relationship calls for a sleepover.” Throwing his legs out of bed, he stands up and starts pulling on his jeans. “I should get back, though. I like showering at my place.”
“Oh?” I prop my chin on my hand as Roughneck jumps up to occupy Dean’s warm spot on the bed. “You have better water pressure or something?”
“I don’t know about that, but I’m kinda picky about toothpaste and razors and shower gel. Breakfast, too. Like I always have an omelet with two eggs, peppers, mushrooms, swiss cheese, and a little bit of bacon.” He makes a face. “Sorry, I know it’s lame. I’m sure I could make do with whatever you have here, but—”
“No, I get it. I’m picky, too.” Picky enough to finally hold out for a guy who ticks all my boxes. I still can’t believe I’m in a relationship.
Dean leans down and kisses me. “I love that smile. It means you’re thinking happy thoughts. Or maybe dirty thoughts.”
I grin. “Maybe both.”
He laughs and finishes finger-combing his hair. “I might be a couple minutes late getting to the office. Gotta take care of some busywork.”
“Need help?”
“Nah, I’ve got it.” He starts for the door, then pauses. “Thank you, Vanessa.”
“For banging you silly?”
Dean laughs. “For that, yes. But also for giving us a chance.”
“You’re welcome.” I can’t contain the smile tugging the edges of my mouth. “Thanks for being patient with me.”
“You’re worth the wait.”
Blowing me a kiss, he slips out of the room. When I hear the front door shut, I get up and throw the lock before heading to the shower.
I take my time getting ready, noticing the extra flush in my cheeks that might be beard burn. Or maybe it’s just happiness. Even if I failed at my goal to stay single, I failed in the most spectacularly delicious way with a guy who’s amazing.
More importantly, I trust him. I trust him to let me stand on my own two feet and be the person I’m meant to be. Have I ever been with anyone like that? My brain scans the rolodex of men I’ve dated. Nope, no one comes close.
But it’s less about them and more about me finally learning to make good choices. That’s the best part of all this.
Since my morning is off to such a sunny start, I pull on my favorite champagne-colored dress that Val says makes my eyes sparkle. Leaving my hair loose the way Dean likes it, I throw together a quick breakfast scramble with egg whites and tomatoes to save me from spending money and calories at the coffee shop. I even make my own coffee in a reusable mug that Lana gave me yesterday.
I don’t care who dies in a movie as long as the dog lives.
I’m smiling about it as I walk the sun-dappled cinder path to the lodge. It’s a quarter to nine, and the June sunshine bathes the basalt cliffs in a red-gold glow. Even the junipers look brighter this morning, with tufts of blue berries bouncing on the breeze. I reach the main lodge and push through the side door off the corridor to my office. I’m halfway down the hall when Cooper’s voice rings from the doorway next to mine.
“Maybe he didn’t know it isn’t her in the picture,” he says. “Could be he got the wrong twin by mistake.”
I freeze at the edge of his door. Twin? We make up three percent of the world’s population but come on. He has to be talking about me.
Heartbeat thudding in my ears, I take a small step forward. I’m not trying to spy. I legit have to pass by to reach my office, but yeah, I’m curious who he’s talking to.
Cooper has his back to the door, and Amy Lovelin stands facing him with arms folded over her chest. She’s not in her cop clothes and looks sharp in slim black jeans and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. Her inner cop must sense me there, because she looks up and frowns.
“Vanessa. Hey.”
Cooper whirls around, mask slipping into place just a few seconds after I register surprise in his eyes. “Morning, Vanessa. You’re early.”
I glance at my watch. It’s ten minutes to nine, but that’s nothing new. “Were you guys talking about the postcard or something?”
Cooper opens his mouth to answer, but Amy beats him to it. “We were discussing the attacks on Juniper Ridge and how the assailant seems zeroed in on you specifically.”
Interesting. Is it just me, or did she not really answer the question?
Cooper looks uneasy, and his posture’s ramrod straight instead of slouchy like normal. He studies me like he’s searching for words. “Have you seen Dean this morning?”
“About an hour ago.” I decide to leave it at that and not mention he spent the night at my place. “How come?”
“Just curious if he said anything about…anything.”
Huh? “About what?”
Amy clears her throat. “Are you doing all right, Vanessa? No new threats or anything unusual happening?”
Okay, now they’re creeping me out. Something’s niggling the back of my brain, something I can’t quite grab.
It hits me like a sucker punch. “Wait. You said something about getting the wrong twin. Did something happen to Valerie? Is she in trouble or hurt or—”
“No!” Amy steps forward, shouldering past Cooper. “Your sister is safe and healthy in Paris right now.”
My mouth goes dry. “How did you know my sister’s in Paris?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Dean’s kept me apprised of all relevant details.” Her expression is perfect cop-neutral, but something in her eyes tells me there’s more to the story. Why would Dean need to share where my sister lives?
Cooper’s brow is furrowed, and he keeps throwing glances at Amy. “Is Dean on his way in?”
“I—yeah, sometime in the next hour.” Why the hell is no one being straight with me? I try again. “What’s going on here?” My voice comes out squeaky and I hate it. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Cooper turns to Amy, his expression vaguely annoyed. “Let me guess—he asked you not to say anything?”
Amy doesn’t answer, but I see her jaw clench. Otherwise, her expression is completely unreadable. “I’m not at liberty to discuss details of a pending investigation.”
She meets my gaze and holds it, eyes softening with unspoken apology. For what?
Cooper drags his fingers through his hair. “Goddammit. This is just like him.”
“What?” I’m still trying to understand what’s happening.
He heaves a sigh. “Look, Dean’s in charge. I’m sure he has reasons for—for whatever it is he’s doing.”
A sick feeling puddles in the pit of my stomach. I curl my fingers into my palms and step forward, hoping they can’t see my hands shaking. “Tell me.” I take another step into the office. “Whatever this is involves me, right?”
Amy shifts from one leg to the other, and I realize there’s a holster on her hip. A gun, she’s wearing a gun. Is that odd? I’ve never noticed it before.
“Look, Dean should be in shortly,” she says. “I’m sure he can explain everything—”
“Last night,” Cooper says, taking a step toward me. “Gabe and I got to Dean’s place around eight.”
“Cooper.” There’s a warning note in Amy’s voice.
“What? He didn’t order me to keep my mouth shut. I’m not going to stand here and bullshit her.”
“I appreciate that,” I say faintly, pretty sure whatever he’s about to tell me could open a can of squirmy sibling worms.
Cooper reads my mind. “It’s fine. Dean might be the bossy big brother, but he’s sure as fuck not my boss. I’m supposed to speak up when I think he’s being a dumbass.”
“That’s in your job description?” I’m trying for lighthearted, but my voice cracks on the last syllable.
“Yeah.” Cooper offers a smile that’s achingly kind. “Anyway, Gabe and I got to Dean’s place last night and there was a photo stuck on the door. A photo with a knife through it.”
My knees start to buckle. I grab the edge of the desk and fight to keep my voice even. “Another photo of me?”
Even as I say the words, I know that’s not it. Not all of it, anyway. “That’s what we thought,” he says. “But it wasn’t you. Dean figured that out pretty quick.”
The other shoe drops, and I force myself to swallow a few times before speaking. “My sister. It was a photo of Val, wasn’t it?”
Amy stares at me, not saying anything. If I weren’t staring right at her, I’d never notice the tiniest tilt of her head. Maybe a nod, or maybe I imagine it.
But I’m not imagining the flood of nausea swirling in my gut. As I grip the desk tighter, Amy’s gaze flicks over my shoulder, then flashes with alarm. I know without turning who’s behind me. I can feel his presence, smell the grassy, woodsy scent of his shampoo.
Slowly, I pivot. As Dean’s hazel eyes lock with mine, I see him register what’s happened. Maybe he heard, or maybe he can tell by the stricken look on my face.
How could he spend the night with me and not say a word? How could he sit there on my couch making small talk with my sister and never think to share that someone stuck a knife through her picture and tacked it to his door?
I order myself to take a few breaths before speaking. “Were you going to tell me?” My words come out hoarse and weak, so I straighten my spine and try again. “About the new threat? That it involves my sister now, too?”
He doesn’t say anything right away. Doesn’t deny it or play dumb, which I’d appreciate if I weren’t seriously struggling not to pick up Cooper’s paperweight and throw it at him.
Finally, Dean sighs. “Vanessa, it’s not that big a deal.”
“Not. That. Big. A. Deal.” I say the words slowly, enunciating each one in case I’ve misunderstood. “Really? So if I found a photo of Cooper or Mari or Lana stuck to my front door with a knife through it, you wouldn’t think that’s something I should tell you?”
He winces, and I’m not sure if it’s the mental picture I just painted or the way my voice has risen to an almost-shriek. A door clicks behind me, and I’m guessing Cooper and Amy just slipped out the side door to give us privacy.
I don’t turn and look. I keep my eyes fixed on Dean, hoping he has some explanation. Some good reason for keeping me in the dark. For controlling the narrative in a way that shuts me out completely.
“I’m taking care of it, Vanessa,” he says slowly. “I didn’t want you to panic and do anything crazy.”
My teeth grind together as I stare at him. “Is there something you’ve observed that makes you think I’m prone to panicky, crazy outbursts?” I’m trying for sarcasm, but it comes out sounding like a real question.
That’s when I realize that I really want the answer. I need to know if that’s what he thinks of me.
My mother’s voice rings in my head, drowning out the thud of my heartbeat.
You’re too irrational, Vanessa. You’ll never have a head for business if you can’t stop reacting to things. Just find a husband and settle down. It’s the best thing for you.
Dean’s not answering, so I try again. “Seriously, Dean—if you think I’m not levelheaded enough to handle basic information about me and my family, then I can’t imagine you think I’m levelheaded enough to handle accounting for a multi-million-dollar development.”
A muscle twitches beside his eye, and I realize I’ve hit a nerve. I’m not sure which one, but there’s definitely something else he’s not telling me.
He also hasn’t answered the question.
“That’s not the issue.” He takes a deep breath and flicks a hand down the hall. “Can we please go into my office and discuss this there?”
“No.” My retort snaps out clipped and tense, but I’m tired of being handled. Tired of letting someone else decide where I go, what I do, what I know. “We can talk right here, Dean. I’m not letting you lure me behind closed doors so you can feed me platitudes or throw me off with those goddamn bedroom eyes.”
“Bedroom eyes?” He looks genuinely startled. “See, this is what I was afraid of. You’re blowing things out of proportion. I can handle all of this with a few phone calls. I swear, Vanessa—I have this under control.”
“No, Dean. You don’t.” My hands have started shaking, so I clench them at my sides, fingers curled into my palms. “I’m not a thing to be ‘controlled’ or ‘handled.’ This is my life we’re talking about. My family.”
He sighs like I’m twisting his words around, but he’s the one who keeps saying shit he knows will make my blood boil. He knows about my mother. He knows about every guy I’ve dated who’s treated me like a goddamn doll to be propped up in a corner.
I thought he was different.
“This isn’t about controlling you,” he says. “It’s about protecting you. When I saw you with that knife through your head—that moment before I realized it wasn’t you—I lost it, okay? All I could think about was keeping you safe.”
I know I should be flattered. I should be touched he’s sweet enough to care.
But all that is secondary to the fact that he thinks he has the right to manage and manipulate my reality. My life. “I thought you said it wasn’t a big deal,” I say. “A minute ago, you downplayed it as no big deal. Now it’s about protecting me?”
“Goddamn it.” He thumps a fist against the wall. “I’m trying to tell you that I care about you.”
“By keeping me in the dark?” I shake my head slowly. “I’ve had enough of that kind of caring to last a lifetime, thanks.”
He makes a noise that’s not quite words. More like exasperation. If I’m expecting him to apologize or back down, it’s not happening. “I’m the CEO,” he says. “It’s my job to look out for everyone. To ensure the safety of my staff and community members and family and everyone I care about.”
I can’t decide whether I want to hug him or slug him in the arm. “That’s an awfully big burden to pile on one person’s shoulders.”
“No kidding.”
“So, don’t!” I throw my hands in the air, exasperated all over again. “Let other people in, Dean. You have a team here. Smart, capable people, including me. Let us be part of things, especially when it involves us.”
I’m probably overstepping. This is about him and me, not his siblings and the whole crew. But dammit, I’m tired of having my engine throttled at every turn.
Shaking his head, Dean stuffs his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got it under control, okay? My PI knows a guy in the Paris field office who’s keeping an eye on your sister. And your bodyguard should be here by lunchtime today.”
“My bodyguard?” I blink at him. “Were you planning to tell me? Or were you just going to have some guy trailing me around the compound like a creepy stray dog?”
He doesn’t answer, but I see his jaw clench and unclench. That’s answer enough for me.
“I see.” So, he did plan to keep me in the dark. “Don’t you think that’s the sort of thing to share with me? If I’m under surveillance—if my sister’s under surveillance or possibly in danger—”
“She’s not in danger.”
“You don’t know that!” Fear and fury makes my voice quiver, and I order myself to breathe. To dial it back and focus on facts. “What have you learned?” I ask. “The knife, were there any prints?”
He hesitates. “No prints. Not on the knife, and not on the photograph.”
Big shocker there. Like we’ve said all along, this guy is a master at not getting caught. “What else? What aren’t you telling me?”
Again with the hesitation. He stares at me for ten, fifteen seconds without saying a word. Then he slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone. As I watch, he taps the screen a few times, then hands it over.
“Why are you—oh.” I feel the blood drain from my face as I stare at the screen. My fingers tingle as I stare at the insignia of the American Institute of Certified Public Accountants.
It’s a copy of a complaint. A complaint filed the day after I took the CPA exam. I know the words by heart, but I force myself to read them again anyway.
Suspicion of misconduct.
Candidate accused of concealing notes.
Full investigation to include…
I hand the phone back. I don’t need to read any more. “Where did you get that?”
Dean shoves the phone back in his pocket, never breaking eye contact. “It showed up in my email. Anonymous sender.”
“When?”
He hesitates. “Last night. After you’d gone to bed.”
I stare at him, waiting for him to ask me about it. Waiting for him to tell me he didn’t see the email until just now. Or that he had a good reason for not asking me about it last night. Or this morning when we woke up together or he kissed me goodbye or—
“I’ve already talked with Lana,” he says, and my jaw falls open.
“What?”
“Her specialty is crisis management and image control. She knows how to get on top of this sort of thing before it can do damage. I have a meeting with her at—”
“Wait, what?” I stare at him. “You get an anonymous email suggesting I cheated on the CPA exam, and your first conversation isn’t with me?”
He closes his eyes for a few seconds. “With a TV show that’s shopping for sponsors, we need to control potential scandals. To get out ahead of it so—”
“I don’t believe this.” I blink hard, surprised to realize my eyes are watering. “You could have asked me about it. Hell, you could have called the AICPA.”
I’d have been pissed about that, too, but Lana? She’s the closest friend I’ve made at Juniper Ridge, and Dean just told her I’m a cheat.
The lump in my throat is now a cannonball. I can’t speak. I can’t even wrap my head around the turn this has taken.
“Cheating’s nothing to mess around with.” Dean’s jaw clenches, and I know he’s not talking about how things play on TV. This is personal, I can see that. “We need to take it seriously.”
“I take it pretty damn seriously myself.” The rancid stew of hurt and fury is bubbling in my gut. “More seriously than you, considering this is my life we’re talking about here.”
“Look, Vanessa.” He takes a step toward me, then stops. “The fact that that this email doesn’t faze me—that I can put the whole thing aside—doesn’t that tell you how I feel about you?”
I gape at him. “You expect me to be flattered by this?”
He closes his eyes again, dragging a hand through his hair. “This is not how this is supposed to go.”
“Because it’s not your narrative to control!” I’m shouting again, and I hate that. My only comfort is that his eyes are still closed, so he can’t see the tear slip down my cheek.
Another one falls, and I dash it away. He hasn’t asked a single question. Hasn’t given me a chance to explain or defend myself or offer one tiny shred of input on my own situation.
I take a step back and Dean opens his eyes. “Where are you going?”
“Leaving.”
“I can see that.” He frowns. “Vanessa, I can fix this.”
“I’m not asking you to fix anything, Dean!” I take another step back. And another, until I’ve put a few feet between us. “I thought you were different.”
Dean’s brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shake my head slowly as my gut roils with nausea. I take another step back, widening a gap that I know can’t be bridged.
“I won’t tolerate someone who treats me like a situation to be managed.” I manage to keep the quiver out of my voice, surprising myself with the force of my own words. “That’s an absolute for me, Dean.”
He sighs like I’m being unreasonable. “I don’t want you to worry about this. Let me take care of this. Please. I can handle it, I swear.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
As a matter of fact, I asked him not to. It’s the one thing I was clear about. I don’t want his money or his fame or his strong, steady hand maneuvering the chess pieces of my life.
I want his respect.
Clearly, that was too much to ask.
He takes a deep breath. “What do you want me to say?”
I stare at him. There’s so much I want to say, but he hasn’t given me the chance. Looking at him now, I realize he never will.
So, I say the only thing I can say.
“Goodbye, Dean.”
Then I turn and walk away.