She couldn’t respond at first, her throat felt too tight. She’d never been so confused about how she felt about her mother’s cancer; her cancer; her father’s leaving. It’d all become a cyclone of emotion brewing inside of her for the past week and a half.
She sat down on the edge of her bed. “Do you really believe that?” she asked in a small voice.
“How could you not have thought things like that once in a while, given how much Alice suffered and for how long? But I know you, Joy. You don’t have to assure me you would be there for me, or anyone you love, if they were going through a trial. I know that.”
She moved the receiver away from her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her muffled sobs. Perhaps Seth sensed her emotional state, because he cleared his throat gruffly and changed the subject.
“There was something I planned to talk to you about while we were in Vulture’s Canyon, but given the way things turned out, I never got the chance.”
“What?” Joy asked, wiping a damp cheek.
“I want to ask you to become a partner in Hightower Special Effects.”
Joy’s mouth fell open in surprise. It’d been one of the last things she’d expected him to say.
“It’s got nothing to do with the fact that you’re my niece,” Seth said hurriedly, as if he was expecting her to turn him down flat. “I respect your talent more than I do anyone else’s in the business. I’m always one hundred percent confident in any project you undertake. I think we work really well together.”
“Thank you,” she said, still stunned. Seth had worked so relentlessly to make his company the success that it was today. She was deeply moved at his offer to share it with her. “Thank you so much. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Take some time to think about it, then. I know how much teaching means to you. Maybe we could figure something out? Maybe you could teach a few art classes at a junior college here in the Los Angeles area or something?”
Joy closed her eyes. “Seth, does this offer have anything to do with the fact that you want me to move back to the west coast?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
She let out a ragged sigh. She wasn’t quite so sure she believed him. Six months ago, she might have resented it.
Now, she wasn’t so certain it was such a bad thing, even if Seth was trying to subtly manipulate her into moving closer to him.
“I’ll think about it,” she said quietly. “And I am extremely flattered by the offer. Thank you. I’ll call you as soon as I get home on Tuesday?”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
Eighteen
Joy had been right about the mosquito repellent, Everett thought dully as yet another red welt was raised, this one on his chest. The little buggers had been making a feast of him since his last swim in the lake. He’d grown so numb as he sat there beneath the sycamore tree that he’d stopped slapping at them when he felt them bite.
He’d been down before. He knew what it was like to pick yourself up after you’d been body-slammed hard on the pavement, figuratively speaking. In the past, he’d taken enough time to lick his wounds and recover. Then he’d thrown himself right back into the fray and gotten what he wanted. If not that time, then the next. Persistence had always been his guiding principle. A half hour after he’d left Katie’s kitchen this morning, he’d been convinced that personal value would see him through this rough spot with Joy. He’d go after her. He’d convince her that they weren’t as different as she suspected. They could make it work.
Now that the sun was dipping in the western sky, however, he found himself doubting. Perhaps persistence didn’t work in this murky area of romance and love? He didn’t really have enough experience with caring about someone this much to know for sure. It wasn’t Joy he doubted, it was himself—his ability to convince her he was the real thing and not some insubstantial caricature of a film star. There had been so many times when he’d looked into her eyes in the past several days that he was sure she’d been seeing him accurately, appreciating who he was as a person. In truth, he’d believed he’d seen that in her gaze since that very first time at the studio.
Obviously he’d been kidding himself in a very large way.
He forced himself to stand from the rock where Joy had perched while they’d made love—masochistic of him to come here, he knew. He pulled on his shorts, socks and tennis shoes and was in the process of shrugging on his T-shirt when he heard a quiet tread on the path. Seth Hightower’s head appeared over the rise. He paused, taking in the scene of the hilltop lake. Everett remained quiet. The sycamore branches protected him from sight. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be found.
Seth took several more steps toward the lake. Curiosity overcame Everett’s need for privacy.
“Seth.”
Seth’s head swung around. Everett walked out from beneath the shade of the sycamore, the rays of sun immediately scorching his face.
“Were you looking for me?” Everett asked.
Seth nodded. Without speaking, he dug in the leg pocket of his cargo shorts and retrieved a bottle of water. Everett took it, unscrewed the cap and chugged three quarters of the contents in seconds flat. He’d become dehydrated sitting up here all day. He grunted in appreciation and wiped his mouth. Seth was staring at the tree-rimmed lake.
“It’s pretty,” he said gruffly.