parents will press him, but he's got time. I don't. If I'm going to break off our engagement, I'm going to have to give my parents something. That might not be so pleasant for you if my dad thinks it's your fault."
Nick leaned over the counter and glared. "Are you threatening me?"
Vivienne paled. "No. I'm just saying he's going to blame someone. It could be you. He'd pull his business or worse."
"That's not a reason to get married," Nick said, repeating the refrain to himself over and over. He couldn't get ensnared in the Morans' dysfunction.
Suddenly, amidst the turmoil, relief unfurled in his chest. He'd dodged a bullet. His family would be disappointed, but they'd support him. If he told them that Vivienne was gay, they wouldn't care. He'd like to tell her she should be honest, but he knew her parents.
Vivienne wasn't just a lesbian. She was a lesbian daughter to extremely conservative, evangelical Christian parents. Her father had led a local effort to keep the city from extending spousal benefits to same-sex couples. Her brother was hoping to run for office as a staunch Republican. While some parents—even very religious ones—might at least try to accept their child's being gay, Vivienne's parents likely wouldn't go along without a fight.
"We don't have to tell them anything you don't want to. People break up all the time. We can say that we've realized we want different things. I'll handle my family, and you can handle yours. Tell them that I work too much. That's true enough, right?"
"That's not a vice. That's a virtue," Vivienne murmured. A faint wrinkle nearly formed on her forehead.
"Okay, look, Vivienne, for now, why don't we do nothing? Take a deep breath. You don't have to tell your parents tomorrow. Take a week or so to figure out what you want to say," Nick reasoned. That would give him time to figure out a way to secure Vivienne's father's support without having to join the man's family. Plus, they still had to figure out who's threatening her.
"You'll think about my proposal?" Vivienne asked.
Nick sighed. "No. The marriage is off, but we'll figure something out."
"Can we at least spend time together and show my parents that we're talking? I got an earful the other day over why I'm not working things out with you. We can show them that we gave it a shot. That might make it easier to end things."
Her grasping made Nick ill. How much of a show could he put on? Then, he looked at his ex-fiancée's face and crumbled. Maybe she was right. It might make it easier for her parents to let it go if they looked like they were trying to fix things for a few weeks.
"A week. Maybe two, Vivienne. That's all. I don't see why you need to make up a story that will only be harder to walk back later."
"But, if maybe we can set a wedding date, that will really buy us time," she offered, meekly tilting her head.
Nick grimaced.
"No. Instead of putting energy into faking wedding plans, we need to figure out who this is that's trying to ruin your life for money."
Other than me , he thought. Not that he'd wanted to ruin her life. He had no way of knowing that they were as off-kilter as they were. However, on some level, he had used Vivienne and her family connections. They'd used each other.
Nick sighed and put those thoughts out of his head. He could make this right and leave Vivienne, knowing he'd done what he could for her. Then, he'd walk away.
Vivienne pouted briefly. "Fine. Whatever. I'm just glad you're doing this. Really. Thanks."
She rolled over on the couch and embraced him. Nick held the woman he'd planned to marry. Her silky straight hair slipped between his fingers. Her chest rose and fell against his. He already missed her, or who he'd thought she was. What had been real? His love? Her devotion? Their mutual respect? Nick squeezed her tighter.
They used to call themselves partners in crime. Now that moniker seemed more on target than Nick could have believed.
Chapter Twelve
T he streetlights still
Nick leaned over the counter and glared. "Are you threatening me?"
Vivienne paled. "No. I'm just saying he's going to blame someone. It could be you. He'd pull his business or worse."
"That's not a reason to get married," Nick said, repeating the refrain to himself over and over. He couldn't get ensnared in the Morans' dysfunction.
Suddenly, amidst the turmoil, relief unfurled in his chest. He'd dodged a bullet. His family would be disappointed, but they'd support him. If he told them that Vivienne was gay, they wouldn't care. He'd like to tell her she should be honest, but he knew her parents.
Vivienne wasn't just a lesbian. She was a lesbian daughter to extremely conservative, evangelical Christian parents. Her father had led a local effort to keep the city from extending spousal benefits to same-sex couples. Her brother was hoping to run for office as a staunch Republican. While some parents—even very religious ones—might at least try to accept their child's being gay, Vivienne's parents likely wouldn't go along without a fight.
"We don't have to tell them anything you don't want to. People break up all the time. We can say that we've realized we want different things. I'll handle my family, and you can handle yours. Tell them that I work too much. That's true enough, right?"
"That's not a vice. That's a virtue," Vivienne murmured. A faint wrinkle nearly formed on her forehead.
"Okay, look, Vivienne, for now, why don't we do nothing? Take a deep breath. You don't have to tell your parents tomorrow. Take a week or so to figure out what you want to say," Nick reasoned. That would give him time to figure out a way to secure Vivienne's father's support without having to join the man's family. Plus, they still had to figure out who's threatening her.
"You'll think about my proposal?" Vivienne asked.
Nick sighed. "No. The marriage is off, but we'll figure something out."
"Can we at least spend time together and show my parents that we're talking? I got an earful the other day over why I'm not working things out with you. We can show them that we gave it a shot. That might make it easier to end things."
Her grasping made Nick ill. How much of a show could he put on? Then, he looked at his ex-fiancée's face and crumbled. Maybe she was right. It might make it easier for her parents to let it go if they looked like they were trying to fix things for a few weeks.
"A week. Maybe two, Vivienne. That's all. I don't see why you need to make up a story that will only be harder to walk back later."
"But, if maybe we can set a wedding date, that will really buy us time," she offered, meekly tilting her head.
Nick grimaced.
"No. Instead of putting energy into faking wedding plans, we need to figure out who this is that's trying to ruin your life for money."
Other than me , he thought. Not that he'd wanted to ruin her life. He had no way of knowing that they were as off-kilter as they were. However, on some level, he had used Vivienne and her family connections. They'd used each other.
Nick sighed and put those thoughts out of his head. He could make this right and leave Vivienne, knowing he'd done what he could for her. Then, he'd walk away.
Vivienne pouted briefly. "Fine. Whatever. I'm just glad you're doing this. Really. Thanks."
She rolled over on the couch and embraced him. Nick held the woman he'd planned to marry. Her silky straight hair slipped between his fingers. Her chest rose and fell against his. He already missed her, or who he'd thought she was. What had been real? His love? Her devotion? Their mutual respect? Nick squeezed her tighter.
They used to call themselves partners in crime. Now that moniker seemed more on target than Nick could have believed.
Chapter Twelve
T he streetlights still
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