Page 94 of Barre Fight
In the long silence that followed, Ivy and Justin turned to look at each other, and she could see on his face that he, too, waswondering if he’d misheard Kavanaugh. He wanted tothankJustin? And had he just called Justin “mate”?
She turned back to Kavanaugh, and found him looking at Justin, his hand extended as Justin stood there, stiff with surprise, a strange echo of Justin’s own aborted handshake with Kieran not even an hour ago.
“What?” Justin blurted.
“For raising all that money,” Kavanaugh said, retracting his hand and pushing it into his pocket. Justin followed the movement with his eyes, as though he preferred Kavanaugh keep his fists where he could see them. “It’s going to make a big difference around here. Meghan said she was going to show you around, but you can see how bad things got. We’re gonna need all the help we can get. When she told us what you were planning with that concert and all those big sponsors, mate, we were so chuffed.”
There it was again.Mate. Kavanaugh had spoken hastily, perhaps a little nervously, but there was undeniable warmth and gratitude in his voice. Ivy stared at him, then looked up at Justin, baffled. Justin’s face had gone stormy. It was a look she recognized from her first few weeks of working with him.
“You can keep your thanks,” he said in a low voice, darker than she’d ever heard it. “And I’m not your mate.”
Kavanaugh’s face fell, and he ran his other hand through his hair before shoving it into his pocket. He rocked back on his heels. “Listen, Winters, I’m glad you’re here. I… I want to apologize.”
Ivy blinked. None of this was going to plan. She and Justin were supposed to be telling Kavanaugh—well, no,heavily implyingto him—that Justin was going to expose him in the book he supposedly wanted to write.
“Excuse me?” Ivy said faintly. She’d had an experience like this once before, when she’d showed up to interview an operasinger her editor had warned her was “difficult,” only to find that the woman was simply allergic to answering questions about herself, and more interested in telling Ivy about the architectural history of the theater she was preparing to perform in. Ivy had gone in prepared for a challenging, even hostile interview, but she’d come out understanding the difference between Tuscan and Corinthian columns. She knew Kyle Kavanaugh wasn’t about to explain the finer points of classical Greek and Roman architecture, but she also knew that this was not at all the interaction she and Justin had prepared for.
“I saw that video of you a while back, the one that was going around,” Kavanaugh said to Justin, his voice a little jerky. “You nearly KOed that guy. And it made me think about all those times I… well, I was a little shit to you, wasn’t I?”
Justin was staring at Kavanaugh. When he said nothing, Kavanaugh went on, sounding a little less hesitant now.
“I mean, I was, I know I was. I was having a hard time at home, and I guess I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have, mate, and I hope you can forgive me. And look at you know, you’re down in Sydney and you’re in the papers. Can’t say I understand what it is you were doing back then, or what you’re doing now, but clearly you’re good at it, so I can’t have done too much damage…” He chuckled and trailed off hopefully, clearly wondering if Justin was going to offer anything by way of reply.
Ivy blinked, confused and annoyed. “Did you say you wanted to apologize?” she asked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Justin’s gaze dart to her.
“Well, yeah, I just did,” Kavanaugh frowned.
“That’s not a real apology,” Ivy said, her voice already heating, because here was the fight she’d come for. “Just because?—”
“Ivy, it’s okay,” Justin cut in, and Ivy fell silent. “She’s right, though. That wasn’t a real apology.”
“Well, I said?—”
“You said you were having a hard time at home, and I’m sorry to hear that. It’s not an excuse, though. You knew what you were doing was wrong, because you wound up in the principal’s office for it. But you kept doing it. You knew it was wrong to hit people, but you kept doing that, too. If someone was beating up your kid, you wouldn’t accept it just because they were having a hard time at home.”
Kavanaugh stiffened at the mention of his son, and Ivy was worried for a moment that Justin had gone too far. She inched closer to him, a motion of silent support that she knew wouldn’t be any use in a physical fight against a man who was more than a head taller than she was.
“No one’s gonna touch my son,” Kavanaugh said, his voice deep, all friendliness and affability gone.
“And if they did, there’d be hell to pay, and you wouldn’t take ‘sorry, but’ as an apology,” Justin said firmly. “Like we said, that’s not a real apology.”
Kavanaugh lowered his head and let out a long breath. “Yeah,” he said finally, to Justin’s knees. “Yeah, okay. You’re right. I’m sorry. It was wrong and I knew that back then, and I shouldn’t have done it. And for what it’s worth I feel really shitty about it.”
Good, Ivy wanted to say, but she kept quiet.
“Okay,” Justin said. It wasn’t an acceptance, and it definitely wasn’t assuring Kyle that everything was okay, because it wasn’t. But she knew he’d offered the guy all the grace he could muster. “But for the record, you did do a lot of damage. Just because I stuck it out and made it as a dancer doesn’t mean I wasn’t hurt by what you did. I almost quit a hundred times because of you. I kept going in spite of you, but you made my lifehell, Kyle.”
Kavanaugh swallowed and nodded. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I really am.”
“Okay,” Justin said again.
“I have a question about your son,” Ivy said, and Kavanaugh looked at her, looking contrite but wary.
“What about him?”
“Why wouldn’t you let him go to Sydney to see Justin dance?”
“Who told you about that?” Kavanaugh’s thick brows knitted together.
