Worth the Trouble(3)
Despite Vivi’s abiding love for David, his unexpected romantic turnabout last summer had caught Cat and her other brother, Jackson, by surprise.
At first she’d worried things would end badly and destroy her and Vivi’s friendship. Thankfully she’d been wrong, and by tomorrow night her dearest friend would be an official member of her family.
“Go ahead and laugh. Meanwhile, look at where my optimism got me.” Vivi paused. “Be warned, now that my love life is perfect, I’m free to work on yours.”
“No, thanks.” Cat noticed a young mother playing peekaboo with her giggling toddler. The little girl must have felt the pull of Cat’s attention, because she turned her wide-eyed gaze on Cat. The child’s mother quickly diverted her attention with a hug and kiss. Cat’s interest remained fixed on the spot where the mother had planted a kiss, while her own fingers came to rest upon her lips.
“Cat?” Vivi’s voice came through the phone. “You still there?”
Tamping down the flush of embarrassment from her behavior, Cat resisted the urge to share her infertility worries. “Yes, I’m here. And I’m still not looking for a matchmaker.”
“Oh, it’s well past time for a romantic intervention,” Vivi insisted. “You haven’t been out with anyone since you broke up with Justin.”
A shiver danced through Cat’s core at the mention of his name, at the time she’d wasted while unaware that her biological clock had been ticking in double time. “I just want to celebrate with you and my brothers this weekend, okay?”
While Cat felt nothing but happiness for Vivi and her brother, their impending marriage did force her to reexamine her own loveless status.
Contrary to popular belief, her career and modest fame hadn’t helped matters. Sure, professional recognition, monster paychecks, VIP access to clubs and parties, and attention from men—worldly men who’d momentarily made her feel fascinating—had been a rush. But less than a decade later, she had little to show in the way of genuine, lasting relationships.
Like her airbrushed images, nothing had been real.
Modeling had, however, fulfilled one important goal: success. Her need to succeed had been nurtured by her dad’s favoring her brothers and their accomplishments while reducing hers to her appearance.
He hadn’t been cruel. If anything, he’d considered his remarks to be complimentary—he’d just never realized how hollow they were when compared with those he gave her brothers.
Driven by pride and a dash of spite, she’d worked tirelessly until her “pretty face” graced everything from magazine covers to designer-label billboard ads—proving her worth to him, if not to herself. To her chagrin, maybe all she’d really accomplished was living up—or down—to the trivial role he’d assigned to her since middle school.
Perversely, the hollow victory now seemed rather apropos.
Once again, Vivi’s voice pulled Cat from her stray thoughts. “Hank’s coming tomorrow.”
Hank Mitchell: the blond-haired, green-eyed carpenter who worked for Jackson’s construction company.
“Jackson will enjoy having his wingman around.” A little surge of warmth blossomed at the thought of seeing Hank.
Fourteen months ago, she’d spent one unforgettable night flirting with and kissing that soft-spoken man before passing him over to return to Justin. Not her finest decision. Thank God no one kept track, because her list would probably make the Guinness World Records.
“Don’t pretend Jackson’s the only one who’ll be happy to see Hank,” Vivi drawled. “Come on, admit it. You’re ready to date again.”
“No, I’m not.” Experience confirmed that men expected Cat to be the sexy woman portrayed in advertisements, not a real woman with everyday interests and complaints. Probably just as well. Given her waning career and potential diagnosis, she’d be better off keeping love at the bottom of her to-do list. “Besides, Hank’s not the right man for me.”
“Exactly what part of Hank doesn’t work for you?” Vivi demanded. “His gorgeous face? His integrity? His good heart? Or maybe you object to the tool belt?”
Cat smiled, recalling how Vivi thought Hank’s whole “carpenter” thing was scorching hot. Of course, it was. He was. But no matter how handsome and nice Hank appeared to be, he was still a man, which meant his main interest in her was physical. The idea of trying once again to live up to her own image to hold his—or any man’s—attention filled her with prickling resentment.
“Hank and I live in different worlds.” Then again, his low-key lifestyle and attitude held more appeal now than they had before. Too bad it took being burned once too often for her to appreciate a good guy when she met one. “We’ll never be a couple. Best you give up on that particular wish.”