“When did your mom pass?” Cris asks, her tone gentle.
“Shortly after I graduated high school.” I force a smile to let her know it’s okay to talk about, even though talking about her ushers in a fresh wave of guilt. I reach for the bottle of port on the coffee table and top off my glass. “It was a long time ago.”
“I’ve lost both my parents,” Vivian tells me. As if sensing my discomfort, she throws in a detail I didn’t know about her. “Maybe you’ve heard of my father, Walter Steele.”
I gasp before I can stop myself. Cris jokingly lumping in Viv with the uber-wealthy Owens earlier tonight makes much more sense now. Walter Steele swindled a lot of people out of a ton of money. He went to prison for it. I read he passed away in there. A biopic about his life is coming out next year. I saw a trailer online.
“There’s a television show on the way. I’m not in it, thank God.” Viv’s tone is easy, but her posture stiffens, revealing her true feelings on the topic. She’s not comfortable talking about her infamous father. Who would be?
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“I’m not watching it,” Cris states with finality.
“Don’t be sorry,” Viv says with more forced ease. To Cris, she adds, “And you’d better watch it. I’m counting on you for a summary of events. I want to know how much they butchered since I refused to consult on the project.”
“That sucks, though,” I say.
“That’s life sometimes.” Vivian offers a warm smile before waving a manicured hand. “Anyway, it’s the past, and it’s not even my past. Nate has helped me understand that I’m not responsible for my father’s actions. I worked for him, but I had no idea what was going on under my nose.” She changes the subject abruptly, the topic of Walter Steele having run its course. “Tell us about the spa.”
“It’s unique. And now that I’m involved, it’s going to be the premier hangout for twenty-five- to forty-five-year-olds in Clear Ridge. Mark my words.”
I paint in broad strokes, not wanting to bore them. I describe my vision for the spa in the most general terms. At Cris’s encouragement, I go into more detail. I’m glad I do when she chimes in with her own ideas. Vivian offers some truly priceless input, as well, and I relax into my seat and listen.
The Owen brothers have similar taste in women, I think to myself as we animatedly chat and pour more port. Strong, opinionated—these women could never be overshadowed by a powerful male presence.
I fit right in with them.