Page 94 of Never Been Matched
“I’m confident that any questions can be addressed through the proper channels.”
A small smile touches her lips. “Contested wills can get complicated. I’m sure you’re aware.”
Is that a not-so-veiled threat? Damn, she is a cold bitch. How is Vivien related to her? “I am.”
“Then you understand why I’d want independent verification.”
“I understand procedure,” I reply. “And this isn’t it.”
She nods once, as if we’ve come to some unspoken agreement. “Very well. We’ll set something up. I’m not trying to take anything from you,“ she says to Vivien. “I’m trying to make sure you’re not being taken advantage of.”
Vivien lets out a short, humorless laugh. “By whom?”
“You’ve been placed in a situation you’re not equipped to evaluate objectively.”
“I’m doing just fine.”
“Are you?” Her mother crosses her arms over her chest. Her gaze flicks briefly to me again. “You ran away from a lucrative career that anyone else would die for. You shut yourself away and had a mental breakdown. You can’t honestly believe this man is in your best interest.”
Silence stretches tight between them.
Every instinct I have says step in. Shut this down. Redirect.
I can be her attorney and protect her inheritance, but this battle, her relationship with her mother, is not my battle to fight.
So, I put my hand on the small of her back, so she knows I’m here, beside her. Willing to step in if she needs it.
“I’m a grown woman,” Vivien continues. “I get to decide what I do with my life. For the record, not everyone wants to be famous, just in your mind because it’s what you want, and seeing a therapist is not a mental breakdown.”
“You’re throwing everything away.“ She lifts a hand. “For a theater in the middle of nowhere. A trashy theater, at that. Do you really think this is what your life is supposed to be?”
“Yes. Actually, I do.”
Her mother immediately switches gears. “I’ll stay with you tonight. We can talk about everything over in the morning.”
Vivien shakes her head. “No. You’re not staying with me. And we can talk on Monday morning; I have work tomorrow.”
Her mother’s brows lift slightly. “Vivien?—”
“I said no.” Her voice is loud, echoing in the silence of the street.
Her mom waits a few long seconds. “Fine. I’ll be at the inn.” She gets in the car, closes the door, and a second later the engine turns over.
The headlights flare, then sweep past us as she pulls away from the curb and disappears down the street.
“Do you have any other family members that might show up in the middle of the night?” I ask Vivien.
A surprised laugh tumbles out of her. She turns toward me, and the laughter turns into tears.
I immediately pull her into my arms, wrapping myself around her shaking limbs.
Vivien tosses and turns most of the night. I hold her every time she reaches for me. I wish there was more I could do.
When I wake up, it’s midmorning, the sun is shining through the cracks in my drapes, and the bed is empty next to me.
Out in the kitchen, Vivien is drinking coffee at the island with Audrey, who also looks like she barely slept.
“I can’t believe you made her sleep at the inn.” Audrey picks up her mug, blowing gently on the top. Her hair is in a messy bun, and her face is bare and clean, her eyes rimmed with red. She looks even younger than normal.
