She felt her cheeks heating. “That’s personal.”
“That’s also not a no.” The man’s voice grew kind. “What can I do for you, Violet? And why are you calling me on Jon’s phone?”
She glanced over at the man sleeping in the bed, his brow furrowed as if his dreams still tormented him. “I think I broke him again,” she whispered.
—
Cade agreed to head to New Mexico, but he couldn’t get away for another day. In the meantime, Jonathan woke up, surly and dark, and headed right back to the bar. The front desk called Violet again—as if she could stop him!—and through more cajoling of a drunk man, she managed to get him back to his room to sleep it off again.
She didn’t know if she could keep doing this. It was too hard on her heart. Her mother had drank herself into a stupor so many times that Violet felt herself mentally distancing every time someone picked up a bottle. Now, Jonathan was doing the same thing, and it made Violet’s soul ache. Jonathan was being impossible and refused to listen to reason when she tried to talk to him. It was like he was trying to shut everything and everyone out, and the bottle was the only way he could do so.
Which was why she was ridiculously relieved when she got a text from Cade on her phone. I’m here. Shall we meet?
Violet raced down to the lobby. She hoped desperately that Cade would know what to do with Jonathan, because she was running out of ideas—and he was starting to get frustrated with her bribes of chaste forehead kisses.
The man waiting in the lobby for her was dressed in an elegant gray suit and had to be just about the prettiest man Violet had ever seen. He was angelic looking, from his blond hair to his shining blue eyes and his perfectly tanned skin. Good lord. “Um, Cade?”
He strolled forward, extending his hand. “Cade Archer.”
She shook it, giving him a nervous smile. “Violet DeWitt.”
“You look just as Jonathan described you.”
She blinked in surprise. “He described me to you?”
“In glowing terms,” Cade said, tucking her arm into the crook of his and leading her toward the hotel’s elevator. Then he gave her a wry grin. “He was also drunk as a skunk.”
She wanted to laugh, but it only made her feel a bit bitter. “So he only brings me up when he’s drunk?”
“That’s the only time Jonathan ever opens up,” Cade agreed. “The rest of the time, he’s locked down tighter than Fort Knox. If you want to go cliff diving, he’s your man. If you want to talk about feelings, he’s the last person you’d head to.”
Violet chewed on her lip as she considered this. “Does he have a drinking problem, then? I can’t seem to get him to stop.”
Cade shook his head. “I’ve known him to drink all of twice in the time I’ve known him. The other time was at his father’s funeral. He was beside himself with grief. Got drunk, talked a ton about you, and then clammed up and refused to speak of anything again afterward.”
Well, that didn’t make her feel much better. “I don’t know what to do to get him to stop drinking right now. I . . . We fought and I said some harsh things. I guess I hurt him worse than I imagined.”
He gave her a friendly smile. “I find that hard to believe.”
He also hadn’t seen Jonathan the last few days. Violet shrugged. “He’s in a funk. We’re supposed to be searching for a message left for us from my father, but Jonathan won’t get out of bed. Or if he does, he heads to the bar. I’m trapped until we finish this.”
“Trapped?” Cade looked curious.
“Trapped,” she agreed flatly. “He’s basically bribing people to keep me at his side, all under the guise of being charitable.”
“That . . . also doesn’t sound like Jonathan.”
“Is that so,” Violet said politely. “Perhaps you and I should compare Jonathans and see which one is the real one. Because he and I seem to be having a hell of a time together.”
“Well,” Cade said as they strolled across the lobby. “The Jonathan I know is extremely loyal. Very passionate about his work, and willing to do anything to win someone over to his cause. He’s a bit single-minded but a good man. Very intense. Very determined. And a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”
Okay, so that did sound like him. “Don’t forget the part about not being able to keep his hands off of women.”
That time, Cade gave her a curious look. “Really? I’ve never known Jonathan to act like that. He’s been groping women in front of you? The Jonathan I know keeps himself closed off. I don’t ever recall him having a steady girlfriend.”
Her cheeks pinked. He’d been groping her, not other women. She thought of the photo in his wallet. No condom, no other women’s phone numbers or pictures stuffed into his billfold. Just a picture of her with zinc on her nose. “Like I said,” she fidgeted. “I guess we’re seeing two different men.”
“Strange,” Cade murmured, but he didn’t argue with her.
They went up to the bar. It was busier due to the time of night, but Violet still had no trouble finding Jonathan’s table. She just looked for the one with the most bottles in the darkest corner. Yep, there he was. Violet sighed and pointed. “At the table in the back. He’s busy trying to drink himself into a stupor again.”
“Damn.” Cade rubbed his jaw and looked over at Violet curiously. “What exactly did you say to him?”
“It’s . . . personal. So you’ll handle him from here?”
“You don’t want to stick around?” He looked surprised.
Her smile was bittersweet. “I don’t think he wants me around at the moment. I’m sorry.” Violet gave Cade an apologetic look and hustled off before he could ask further questions.
It was cowardly of her to run, but she couldn’t handle things at the moment. Her mind was spinning. She didn’t know who—or what—to believe anymore.
FIVE
Jonathan barely glanced up from his bottle of Scotch as someone sat down at his table. To his surprise, it looked like his friend, Cade. He closed his eyes, and then rubbed them. “Damn. I think I’m drinking too much.”
“What’s on the menu?” Cade asked, picking up a bottle and sniffing it. He winced. “Jesus, man. Did you buy up all the decent brands already?”
He shrugged. “Alcohol is alcohol.”