Zenith Fulfilled (Zenith Trilogy, #3) Page 4

  He leaned towards her, placing his mouth close to her ear. “Who’s to say if you did that, I wouldn’t just lie about reading it, and still say no?” His mouth was barely inches from her skin and his breath felt warm on the side of her face. She pulled away from him, shocked at his invasion of her space, and gall, but mostly at the tingling she suddenly felt churning through her stomach.

  “Nothing. I would hope you wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why wouldn’t I? For your sake? Nick’s sister’s sake?”

  “Please, Mr. Williams,” she said turning her head to meet his angry glare until her lips were only inches from his. He frowned and pushed her away. “Would you just look at it?”

  Rob finally shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Is that what it will take to get you to leave me alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “And then you’ll take no as my final answer?”

  Rebecca deflated, but what else could she do? After a moment, she said, “Yes.”

  “All right, sweetheart, go ahead and get my address from Joelle; she used to live there, after all. Oh, and make sure she says it’s okay.”

  Rob turned and swaggered off with a cocky stride and confident attitude. Women probably fell at his feet. His voice alone could do that, no doubt. But when combined with his smoky, dark gaze, and bad-ass looks, he could seal any deal he wanted, she guessed.

  How then, could her quiet, intensely private, and shy newest sister-in-law ever have been married to him? It boggled Rebecca’s mind. She saw how other people looked at Joelle’s tattoos, with her gothic-themed, dyed black hair and dark, heavy clothes. Most reacted with shock that she could have ever ended up with Nick Lassiter. But Rebecca could see them being together a lot easier than she could Joelle with Rob. This man of the hour, and of the room, with the big personality, was so charming outwardly and potentially so sexy, she couldn’t deny it.

  Rebecca sighed and stomped her foot. Rob did that on purpose. She was going to have to approach her sister-in-law about her plan. Ask her about Rob. And get an address for Rob. Joelle and Rebecca were polite, but only distantly friendly to each other. They never bonded and usually avoided any one-on-one interactions. Joelle shared the same indifference with all of Nick’s sister’s, and didn’t seem to want to get closer to any of them, or try to fit in.

  Well, that, in addition to their collective, less-than-welcoming reaction to Joelle when Nick first brought her home to meet them. Perhaps that was where the roots lay, and Rebecca was just as responsible for it as the rest of her sisters.

  It hurt and bugged Nick so much sometimes, he found it hard to tolerate them anymore. She knew if any of them ever bad-mouthed Joelle, Nick would have disowned the family. So it was a very fine line on which they all walked, and it rendered all of them into cold, fake, but interminably polite in-laws who remained astonished over Nick’s love for Joelle.

  Nick fell in love with Joelle long before she left Rob to be with him. Rob, who was so different from their outgoing, stable, conservative, wealthy, generous brother, made it hard to convince the sisters that Joelle would divorce him for Nick. Or if she did, that their marriage would last very long.

  Now Rebecca knew how wrong they were and saw how happy her brother was with Joelle. He loved everything about her. Perhaps, the time had come to give Joelle a chance. Now, however, with her seeking information about Rob, probably wasn’t the best reason to approach her, and she doubted if it would go over very well. Then again, perhaps she could use this as a chance to right the wrong she’d unjustly inflicted with her prejudice onto her brother’s wife?

  Rebecca often contemplated the hurdles and the opposition her project was likely to incur: Rob’s refusal to cooperate; Nick’s disappointment; and Joelle’s possible resentment. Still, the ambition to do it could not be ignored. Besides, what did she have to lose? Her pride? Her self-confidence? Her happiness? She lost all of those two years ago.

  This was about her reclaiming those things, or some semblance thereof. This was about her. Not Nick. Not Rob. Not Joelle. And certainly, not Doug Randall.

  Chapter Three

  Rebecca deserved the case of butterflies that now upset her stomach. It was probably how Joelle felt every time she had to face her, or her sisters or their mother. They were five to one. Plus, the Lassiter family included more than a dozen nieces, and plenty of family get-togethers in which Joelle had to face them all.

  Rebecca knocked on her brother and Joelle’s penthouse door. They lived in a building that Nick owned in Downtown Seattle, along the waterfront. The views outside their windows were breathtaking and cost a fortune. Nick would, of course, be at work. Joelle stayed home part-time with their two-year-old daughter, Jody.

  “Rebecca,” Joelle said, surprised as she swung the door open. Behind her, Jody toddled along as Joelle let Rebecca inside. Rebecca truly adored her youngest niece. There were a total of fourteen kids altogether now between Nick and the other three sisters. Every single one of them was a girl, and three were hers. Rebecca bent down and scooped the pig-tailed, blond-headed Jody up in a big hug.

  “I hope it’s okay for me to just drop by like this,” she said, trailing kisses into Jody’s flaxen hair.

  “Sure. But Nick is at work.”

  “I know. Of course, when isn’t he? Actually, I came to see you, Joelle.”

  “Me?”

  Joelle’s brows knitted together. Yeah, Rebecca knew she deserved the wariness and distrust she observed now filling Joelle’s dark eyes.

  “It shouldn’t be so shocking after four years, should it? Me coming to see you? But of course, it is. Thanks to me. Thanks to my sisters. And thanks to Trina.”

  “Why don’t you sit down? I was just putting Jody down for a nap. I’ll be right back. It sounds like you have something on your mind.”

  Rebecca waited only a few moments for her return. Joelle managed to make even little Rebecca feel tall. Joelle was just shy of five feet, so Rebecca was almost five inches taller than she. Rebecca sat in one of the kitchen table chairs that Joelle indicated. Joelle prepared some coffee for her exactly the way she took it, and Rebecca was privately ashamed to realize she had no idea if Joelle even drank coffee.

  “When you married my brother I never dreamed it was for real or that it would last.”

  Joelle glanced up as she set the coffee down. “I know, none of you Lassiters did.”

  “I’m sorry for that. And for how we’ve been acting toward you. It’s kind of funny how smug I used to be and how I thought things would happen between you and my brother. And it turned out to actually be me that it happened to.”

  “No one was glad it happened to you. And least of all, me.”

  “My husband left me, but Nick picks up all the slack. I can’t blame you if you hate us sometimes and how much of his time we take from you.”

  Joelle sipped her own coffee before she answered. “I knew how much he participated in all of your lives before I married him. It’s partly why I fell in love with him.”

  There was a sharp stinging suddenly welling in her eyes. Tears? Shit. She hadn’t cried in over a year. Where were they coming from? Maybe it was Joelle’s soft tone of voice, which she used whenever she talked about Nick. Maybe it was how kind she sounded, and in contrast, how mean, and carelessly thoughtless she and her sisters always were with Joelle. Perhaps she was suddenly jealous of her brother’s successful marriage, when she used to feel so smug about hers. Like Nick didn’t know what he was getting into, and which she never expected to last. But it did. And it would. The only one whose didn’t was her own.

  She dropped her head and pushed the palm of her hand over her eye. “We should have believed in it. And believed Nick about you, and your relationship.”

  “I know why you didn’t and even understood, in a way. You all wanted to protect Nick.”

  “Were you always so forgiving?”

  “No. I just learned after doing a lot of things that needed forgiving.”

  R
ebecca sucked in a breath, finding the situation harder than she imagined. She finally asked, “Did Nick ever show you the book I wrote?”

  “He told me about it, but I didn’t think you’d want me to read it, so I didn’t.”

  “I just assumed you would. I hope you know I didn’t expect Nick to keep anything from you. I wanted you to read it. I would like to know your opinion. Actually, I’m here because I want something else from you. And I can’t believe how little regard I’ve given to you without even knowing why. And now, I’m here to ask you for a favor. I feel so hypocritical, I hope you’ll forgive my asking.”

  Joelle shrugged. “Try me. I’m not all that bitchy.”

  “Do you remember when you first ran into Nick at the Al-Anon meeting?”

  “Weren’t you writing a story about it? The meeting, I mean.”

  “Yes. Kind of. I was getting some background material. I started a series about addictions. The thing is, for my next project, I want to write about Rob Williams.”

  Joelle froze, her hand stopping in mid air with her coffee cup. “Rob Williams? My ex-husband?”

  “I know. It sounds crazy. And maybe even disrespectful to you. And to Nick. But I think Rob has a story I could tell, and one that would sell. Not because of you, but because of who he is. His singing, and the almost successful band. All of it is fascinating. He’s fascinating. And a bit edgy.”

  Joelle slammed her cup down, and coffee sloshed onto the table. “I know what Rob is.”

  Rebecca flushed. “Of course you do. I’m sorry. I know you went through a lot with him.”

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t. Nick knows. Nick was there. When all of you were discounting us and specifically, me. Nick was there. He saw it. And he helped me get away from it. Now you want what from me? My permission for you to write about it?”

  “No. I want to write about Rob, the man, not just what he did. I guess I was hoping to solicit your support.”

  “My support?”

  She licked her lips and nodded. “If it makes any difference to you, he was even more offended than you are right now when I proposed the idea.”

  She paused and considered Rebecca skeptically. “You already talked to Rob? How?”

  “At Erica’s wedding. He wasn’t very receptive to me or my idea.”

  “No. Why should he be? I don’t think he’s proud of it.”

  Rebecca nodded eagerly, “That’s just it. I think he should be proud. He should be proud of where he is now in contrast to the place where he was.”

  Joelle hesitated and leaned back in her chair. “I’m surprised you can see past what he formerly was long enough to value how far he’s progressed.”

  “That’s the entire point of my series: taking second chances, starting new lives, no matter what happened in the past.”

  Joelle regarded her differently. “It’s hopeful. I kind of like the idea. It’s what happened to me. I never knew you were this open-minded. I like it. But I don’t see Rob agreeing to participate.”

  “I want to do at least try and persuade him. He said I could send him my first manuscript if I ask you for his address. I’m thinking now that was his way of making sure I talked to you about it. Or to punish me, since I’m sure he thought you’d discourage me, if not actually try to stop me.”

  “How do you know he won’t just throw it away?”

  “I think he probably will.”

  She waved her hand around. “Why? Why him? Why now? Why this? What do you have to gain from Rob’s pain? Or my pain?”

  Rebecca shrugged and met Joelle’s dark eyes. “Because I have to believe there are second chances for people, and new lives just waiting to be discovered.”

  Joelle considered her for a long, heavy moment of silence. Finally, she asked, “How much of this is really about you and your marriage?”

  Rebecca took in a sharp breath through her nose. God, it still hurt. How she failed, and how much she lost. How pathetic she must seem. “All of it. All of it is about me trying to reclaim something that doesn’t involve him, or our past life together. I just… I want to do something that is strictly about me, and not him.”

  Joelle was silent. “And writing does that for you?”

  “My adorable little hobby? Yes.”

  “It’s not an adorable little hobby to you, is it?”

  “No. It’s the thing I want to do most in the world. I’ve dreamed of doing it my entire life.”

  “Who said it was an adorable hobby?”

  “Everyone. My husband. My mother. My sisters. They don’t say that, but it’s lurking in their undertones and their condescending attitudes.”

  Joelle nodded. “I know what it’s like to feel as if you’re nothing.”

  She suddenly got up and opened a drawer before grabbing a pad of paper, and writing something down. She handed it to Rebecca.

  “That’s Rob’s address. If you don’t hear back from him. Let me know. He’ll read it if I ask him to.”

  Rebecca stood up in surprise and looked into Joelle’s eyes. “You’ll help me then?”

  Joelle shrugged. “Yeah, sure… I’ll help.”

  “Why? What made you change your mind?”

  Joelle stared her down and finally smiled, “Because you are finally not acting like a fake, perfect, prissy, condescending, bitch sister-in-law.”

  Rebecca let out a laugh at Joelle’s honesty and her blunt assessment of how Rebecca once treated her. She wanted to hug Joelle with gratitude, but restrained herself. Joelle was giving her a “hands off” kind of vibe. Still, the writer inside her pounced on the line of questioning Joelle just opened up. “You said Rob would listen to you? May I ask why?”

  “Because he loved me once. That means something still to him. I still mean something to him.”

  Rebecca hesitated. “Nick won’t like that. Your being in contact with Rob. Even on my behalf. But you’d still do this?”

  Joelle smirked and shook her head. “Yes. I don’t need Nick’s permission. Besides, Nick didn’t have to worry about anything regarding Rob and me. I was over Rob within the first five minutes after I met Nick. And the thing is, he knows it better than anyone.”

  Rebecca winced. She should have seen the passion, loyalty, and unconditional love that Joelle harbored for her brother four years ago. Not now.

  “Thank you, Joelle.”

  “Send it to him, and be patient; you may have to wait awhile. Let him think it over. Then you’ll have to approach him, preferably at work, where he’ll have to talk to you.”

  “Where does he work?”

  “I’ll get you the construction site address. Spencer will know it.”

  “You’re sure about this? I mean, helping me?”

  “You’re sure Rob’s the right subject for the project?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then just make sure you treat his story right.”

  Rebecca tightened her grip on the paper. “That I can do! I can write, Joelle. I really can.”

  Joelle smiled. “Then I’ll make sure you get whatever you need.”

  ****

  Rob walked towards his porch. The yard was neatly trimmed and he’d even added some shrubs along the front of the house in the last year. The once free-for-all party house was now, actually rather pretty. He recently painted it a neat white with red trim, that featured a red front door and landscaped yard. It made a world of difference. The neighborhood was old and worn, with plenty of filthy houses as well as drab and plain ones. But now, Rob’s house had become one of the finer houses with genuine curb appeal. It reflected Rob’s pride of ownership, and suggested the owner was someone who put a little extra effort into life. It looked like it belonged to a person who did the necessary chores to maintain it, and wouldn’t let his future drown at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

  Rob leaned down and scooped up the package on his porch steps, sighing when he saw the return address. So Rebecca did approach Joelle. He was relying on Joelle to dissuade Rebecca, and put the whole s
tupid, crazy, pointless enterprise to rest. But no, here was Rebecca’s manuscript. He could easily walk into the garage and toss it into the blue recycle bin and no one would ever know.

  Except him. He’d know. He recalled from years ago, before alcohol governed his life, how much excitement he felt over songs that he and Spencer wrote. He remembered all the feelings of hope and pride, the anticipation of someone else appreciating the value of his creation. He supposed it must have been the same for Rebecca, and her urge to continue writing, and why she was so persistent. She must have been desperate, however, to choose him.

  He entered the house and brought the manuscript with him. He walked down the hall and into the kitchen/living room/dining combo. Last year, after Spencer moved out, Erica fixed up the place. It secretly pleased him that Erica would bother over him. But she did. She added several little feminine touches: a plant here, a photo there, matching brown drapes and blue pillows. The house used to be a mess, then nearly barren after Rob got sober. That was when Spencer’s real personality and near obsession with cleanliness and stark desolation emerged. But now? Now it just looked like a normal home. Even warm and inviting. It made a difference, and one Rob never would have guessed made him feel better, but he had to admit that it did.

  Rob set the box down and threw his Thermos and lunch bag on the counter. He stared at Rebecca’s package for a while. What the hell did this woman want from him? Why would she choose to write about him? It was stupid. Pointless. And he wasn’t going to do it. No matter what. But damn, if she didn’t manage to stir up images, feelings, and memories he didn’t want in his mind right now. Damn, if right then, a good, stiff drink didn’t sound enticing, if only to soothe the churning in his gut after thinking about Joelle. And his past. And Zenith. And all of his failures that now culminated to define his entire life, as well as his future. Fuck her. What did Rebecca Randall understand about losing sight of your dreams, or ruining your own future? What did she understand about addiction? And where did she find the gall to say she could write about them?