“Now what’s bothering you?” JT quizzed.
“Nothing, why?”
For the last half hour they’d been heading north out of town on I-25. His sixty-acre ranch sat just beyond the outskirts of the city. At first she’d resisted being away from the hotel on such short notice, but since Tiberius’s death, she’d been working herself hard and could really use a night off.
“You haven’t said a word in fifteen minutes,” JT said. “It’s not like you.”
“Was it crazy, what we just did?”
“Completely.” He exited the freeway and turned left onto a two-lane highway. “Have you changed your mind?”
“No.” And she was surprised at how strongly she felt about staying the course. “It’s all going to work out. We just need to get the last three percent Tiberius had been working on before the next stockholders’ meeting.”
JT nodded. “One way or another, we can be divorced before fall.”
Her stomach fell at his eagerness to be rid of her and she chided herself for reacting so foolishly. That was the deal they’d made. She had no right to wish for something else.
“Then we’d better get to work immediately,” she said. “I brought all the files from his desk at the house. He was about to approach eight more shareholders. Four of the leads look promising.”
“I’ll look at them first thing in the morning.”
His use of first person singular wasn’t lost on her. Before she returned to Fontaine Chic tomorrow, she was determined to make him understand that this undertaking was going to be a team effort. She’d married him and was determined he would not do battle with his father alone.
“This is going to work, you know.”
He shot her a dour look. “Are you always this optimistic?”
“You make it sound like a bad thing.”
“It’s not bad, but I’m not sure it’s realistic. Don’t you ever worry?”
“Not about the future.” She lifted her face to the wind streaming off the windshield. “Why bother? It’s a blank slate, full of possibilities.”
He didn’t reply and she tried to be comfortable in the silence that filled the space between them once more. But the unfinished conversation itched like a case of hives.
“All the brooding you do in the bar every night. Tell me what good it does you to worry about things that haven’t happened?”
“It’s not the future that concerns me, but the past. Things I’d like to take back, do differently, but can’t.”
Delighted that JT was on the verge of a revelation, she prompted, “Such as?”
“Nothing I feel like talking about.”
And just like that she was shut down. Violet heaved a sigh and lapsed into silence. What a puzzle he was. She knew his childhood hadn’t been one to brag about. His father’s ambition. His mother’s retreat into alcohol and drugs. Emotional injuries he’d suffered at a fragile age had turned him into a wild teenager. When JT had first arrived in Las Vegas, Tiberius had warned her to stay away from him. He was not a bird with a broken wing or a kitten who’d been struck by a car. He was a grown man who only knew how to use people and cast them aside.
Tiberius’s initial opinion of his nephew had been right on, but Violet suspected it wasn’t the whole picture. Curious about the Stone family, she’d conducted an internet search and discovered what sorts of trouble a party boy from Miami could get into. Although her contact with him had been limited these last six years, she didn’t think he was the type to act out without cause. But whatever motivated him was locked deep inside and given the firm set of his jaw, likely to remain so.
“So you have a hard time letting go,” she said. “How can you think that’s good for you?”
“Reliving past events helps me avoid similar situations in my future.”
When Violet considered her life, she decided she could probably spend a little time learning from her experiences. How many men had she dated who’d needed her to be their cheerleader or their psychologist or their financial advisor or their life coach? Too many. And here she was doing it again. Only this time she’d gone too far and had actually married someone.
JT turned down a long driveway bordered by landscape lighting and stopped the car in front of a massive stucco-and-stone prairie-style house. Curved planting beds held desert plants and tropical flowers. Their round lines softened the home’s square architecture.
“This is definitely worth the commute,” Violet said as she exited the car. The covered walkway to the front door was flanked by pillars covered in square stone and lighted by sconces. The effect was elegant and welcoming. “I can’t get over how quiet it is.” For a girl who’d practically grown up on the strip, the silence was a bit unnerving.
“Wait until morning. The view from the living room is what sold me on the property.” He collected her bag from the trunk and gestured for her to precede him toward the front door.