Twenty-three
“You’ve got a little over ninety thousand left after the sale. Nigel and I are good for at least another hundred. That means you need only to raise another sixty or so more to cover the start-up costs. Several of your creditors from JV Designs would be interested, despite the fact you’re going to manufacture over there.”
Julianne chuckled at Sebastian’s words. He was excited about the prospect of helping create a new design company, but the thought of having to relocate to the United States was killing him.
“Suck it up, Sebastian. It’s only temporary. If this takes off, you and Nigel can hop back across the pond and handle the European end of things. But right now, I need to keep things close to home.”
“Home, is it?” Sebastian’s voice on the other end of the phone dripped with sarcasm. “And here I thought Italy was home.”
She peered out the bay window in the kitchen, searching the shoreline for Will. He’d taken Owen out with him on his daily jog along the beach. Despite his attempts to acclimate her to the ocean and exorcise her fears, Julianne still suffered tremors at the thought of them both being swept away. She wouldn’t be able to draw a thing until they got back. So she’d called Sebastian instead to discuss financing her latest venture.
“Home is wherever Owen is.” And Will, she added silently.
He hadn’t told her he loved her, not in words at least. But she felt his constant protectiveness, since the first night they’d met. And his trust. Each day, he was sharing more and more about his past. Whether it was visiting his childhood haunts or taking her to meet Mrs. Elderhaus, his first-grade teacher, this morning, Will was opening up. He didn’t trust many people with his innermost thoughts, but he was sharing them with her. She knew that by letting her in, he was showing her he loved her, even if he couldn’t say it yet.
“And I really don’t want you and Nigel investing everything you have in this. I can borrow against my grandmother’s trust fund again. I just need to get Stephen’s approval since he’s the trustee.”
“Jules,” Sebastian drawled. “Nigel and I want to be partners with you. You’re the bomb. Mums all over the world will be clamoring for your baby knickers. And you needn’t worry about our finances. Nigel and I have money tucked away for our retirement. Now if you’re really worried about us, you’d reconsider setting up shop in rustic North Carolina.”
Julianne spread her notes out on the kitchen table. “No way. It’s perfect here. There are four closed textile mills within a fifty-mile radius and scores of people looking for work. The company would give the local economy a big boost. Annabeth and her friend Patricia are virtual goddesses at all the ins and outs of owning a small business. We’re going to look at potential sites tomorrow.”
“Good God! Women on a mission! Heaven help the men of that little hamlet. What does your muscle man say about all of this?”
She checked outside again. Still no sign of Will. “I haven’t told him yet. He seems to have the impression that I fly by the seat of my pants.”
Sebastian snorted.
“I want to prove to him that I don’t.” She ignored him. “I’ve successfully run a business in the past, and I can do it again. This past year has just been a cosmic glitch, a pregnant pause, pun intended. But I’m back now.”
“That’s our girl. You can bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan.”
They agreed to talk again after she’d toured the mill sites. Sebastian and Nigel planned to arrive in the States the following week so they could meet with potential suppliers. Julianne danced across the kitchen, exuberant about how everything was coming together. In a few weeks, she’d have her career back. Owen was healthy and thriving. And there was Will. Her body heated at the thought of him.
She picked up her phone to call Stephen when the red jog stroller appeared on the horizon, a shirtless Will running behind it: muscles rippling, his nylon gym shorts blowing with each stride he took. The wind whipped his hair. The sight was magnificent.
Best of all, he was jogging toward the house. Toward her. Julianne ended the call mid-dial and tossed her phone on the desk. Ignoring the tremors, she stepped out onto the verandah and took a few tentative steps across the lawn toward the dunes that separated the house from the shore.
Will pushed the stroller along the pier leading over the dunes. He stopped in the middle and turned the stroller around so Owen faced her. The baby chortled when he saw Julianne, his chubby legs pumping up and down. Will knelt beside him.
“That’s right, Owen. Tell Mommy she can do it. Tell her we’ll protect her.” He was speaking to the baby, but his eyes never left her face.
Will pushed his sunglasses up on his head, and she could see the encouragement beaming within those eyes.
Julianne pondered the quiet ocean at Will’s back as she chewed her bottom lip. The shore was still twenty yards or more beyond the dunes. If she joined them on the deck, the ocean couldn’t exactly reach out and grab her. She was being ridiculous just standing there on the grass. Before she could think about it further, she sprinted across the lawn and up onto the pier. Will greeted her with open arms, twirling her around by the waist, before pulling her in for a lusty kiss. Owen squealed in delight, his fisted hands punching the air.
“Soon, Cheerio, we’ll take Mommy swimming with us,” Will promised.
Julianne bit her lip as she buried her face in Will’s bare neck to avoid looking at the ocean behind them. In Will’s arms she felt invincible, but for now, this was as brave as she wanted to be. She’d think about swimming later. Much later.
• • •
Julianne was seated at the small desk in the kitchen sketching when Will sneaked up behind her, bending down to kiss her neck. She shoved the drawings into her folder. “You’d better be careful, Brody, my husband is upstairs and he might hear us. Oww!” She yelped as he bit the tender skin.
“What are you drawing?” he asked as he made his way over to the fridge and pulled out a bottled water.
She hesitated a moment, unsure whether to reveal her plans now or wait until everything was finalized. Deciding to stick to her original plan, she turned to face him. Will leaned against the counter, his hair still damp from his shower. He was dressed in shorts and a Yale T-shirt, ready to help Gavin coach a Little League game.
“Just some ideas I have for Owen’s clothes,” she hedged. “What time is the game?”
Will looked at her quizzically for a moment, as if he knew there was more she wasn’t telling him. She held his gaze.
“I need to be at the field in a few minutes,” he finally answered.
Julianne ambled over to where he stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Well, as much as I hate to let you wander around town alone looking so fine, I have to wait until your mom gets off work to babysit Owen before I can join you. Don’t forget, you promised me a beer at Pier Pressure after the game. I’m a lightweight, so you’ll definitely get lucky later.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed the side of his mouth, running her tongue along his lower lip.
He pulled back slightly to better study her. “Julianne, you sure everything’s okay?”
With both hands, she cupped his chin. “Better than okay. I’m drawing again, but things are still evolving. Please don’t take it personally. Please?”
Their eyes held for a moment before he nodded. He kissed her on the forehead.
“Owen’s asleep, so you should have some quiet time to work before my mother gets here. I’ll see you at the ball field later.” He grabbed his gym bag and headed out the door.
Julianne wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn’t like she was hiding anything from Will. She just didn’t feel comfortable involving him in this part of the process because it meant raising money. Their relationship was still tenuous and they were still establishing trust with each other. She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea and think she was only with him for his money. With a sigh, she looked at the clock: four forty. If she hurried, she could still catch Stephen before he left his office.
After nearly ten minutes on hold, her brother picked up the phone. “Julianne, how are you? Is the baby okay?”
She sighed. “Owen’s fine, Stephen. I didn’t mean to panic you by calling. I just thought I’d save you the trouble of calling me today.”
“I thought we’d gotten past this.”
“We have. Look, Stephen, I called because I’m putting together a business plan for a new line I’m designing. You were concerned when I sold JV Designs, so I just wanted to give you a heads-up that I am thinking about my future.”
Stephen was silent on the other end of the phone.
“I’m launching a line of baby clothes,” she blurted out. “We’ll start out as an online or catalog company first, but Sebastian has a lead on potential retailers who might be interested.”
“Well, Julianne, that sounds great. I hadn’t realized you were ready to get back into the business so soon. Just a month ago you sounded as though you didn’t know what you would do. This is certainly a vast improvement. How are you going to pay for it?”
It was just like her brother to cut directly to the chase.
“I have money left from the sale, and Sebastian and Nigel are investing. But I need to borrow from Grandmother Marchione’s trust again.”
Their paternal grandmother had left money for each of her grandchildren to do with what they chose. With the exception of Julianne. It seemed her grandmother had not approved of her son’s second wife, Julianne’s artist mother. So she’d insisted that Julianne not receive her funds until she was thirty—still two years away—in hopes that by that time she would be less inclined to waste the money on the bohemian artist’s lifestyle her mother had pursued. Ironically, Julianne’s career in fashion would not have been possible had her brother not suggested she borrow against the trust in the first place. She’d paid the fund back, with interest. Her grandmother had likely somersaulted in her grave.
“The fund wouldn’t be as big today were it not for the interest I contributed, Stephen.”
“I realize that. And of course you can borrow the money. I’ll never understand why Grandmother chose to punish you for how your hippie mother lived her life. She shouldn’t have put such severe stipulations on your trust fund. I certainly don’t need to be the gatekeeper to your inheritance.”
Julianne sank down in the chair at her little desk in the kitchen, relief and agitation rolling through her at the same time. It was no use arguing with her brother about her mother. Like their grandmother, Stephen had never been fond of his stepmother. Fortunately, he never took it out on Julianne. He had made her jump through hoops to borrow the money originally, but she’d proved herself a competent businesswoman, so she hoped he’d be more lenient this time.
She began doodling Stephen’s name with devil horns on her folder. “So can we just use the same terms we did eight years ago? I’d like to get the cash as soon as possible.”
“How much do you need?”
“The whole seventy-five thousand if possible.” She drew a star with $75,000 written inside it.
Stephen blew out a breath. “I’ll see what I can do. But it may be next week before I can get it to you. And the terms will be adjusted to reflect today’s rates. You’ll need to sign your agreement to that.”
Julianne finally relaxed in the chair. She knew he could make it more difficult for her, but it still irked her to have to ask her brother for the money. It was hers, after all. “Next week will be fine. Thank you, Stephen.”
“Too bad your marriage isn’t real. Will is a rich man who could loan you the money. Although, given what he’s facing right now, you’re probably better off that the marriage is going to end in a few weeks,” her brother added.
She shot to her feet. “Ohmigod, Stephen! Be serious! This whole Bountygate scandal is ridiculous! Will hasn’t done anything wrong. He didn’t even know why they gave him the money!”
Silence greeted her on the other end of the phone line. Julianne’s heart leaped to her throat. She shouldn’t be discussing this with her brother. Granted, he wasn’t a sports reporter, but Stephen didn’t need to know Will’s secrets.
“Julianne . . .”
She cut her brother off before he could say more. “Stephen, please don’t ask me any more about this. The sports media has blown this all up, but it’s really nothing. Will is a good man. He’s Owen’s father. We need to stand behind him in this. He’s part of the family now. If you could just take care of the trust fund for me, I’d appreciate it.”
The sound of Stephen furiously tapping his pen on the desk traveled over the phone. “Sure. I’ll have the money to you next week.”
It wasn’t until after they’d hung up that she realized Stephen hadn’t said anything about supporting Will. She doodled on her folder again. If the truth ever came out, her brother was going to owe her a huge apology for doubting Will. She was looking forward to that day.
“Hi there!” Annabeth strolled through the kitchen door, setting her bag down on the table.
“You’re early.” Julianne jumped to her feet and clapped her hands. “Perfect! I have news.”
Annabeth laughed. “I hope it involves food, because I’m starving.”
Julianne pulled a salad out of the fridge and began adding grilled chicken to it. “It was too hot to cook anything heavy,” she explained. “There’s fruit here, too.”
“Mmm.” Annabeth poured herself a glass of wine. “Will isn’t the best at expressing his appreciation, but I am.” She saluted Julianne with her wineglass. “Thank you for pampering the babysitter.”
Julianne blushed. If Will’s mother only knew her son had been appreciating her against the island in the kitchen just hours before, she’d be shocked. Placing the salad on the table, she ushered Annabeth to sit down and pulled out a chair to sit beside her.
“I have news about the new company.” Julianne had shared her plans with Annabeth last week when her mother-in-law and her friend Patricia discovered her sketches. Both women persuaded her to proceed with the line and to locate her company in their economically depressed hometown. “I have the start-up funds, so we can move to the next phase.”
Annabeth’s face lit up. “That was fast. How did you manage it so quickly?”
“I had money left after paying Owen’s medical bills, and my business manager is investing. I also have money in a trust that my brother is allowing me to borrow against.”
Annabeth arched an eyebrow at her. “Your brother?”
Julianne waved a hand. “Long story. But after selling my soul to the devil, my brother has agreed get me the money. I should have all the funds by next week.”
Annabeth had offered to loan her the money, but that would be like taking Will’s money, and Julianne still felt the need to do this on her own. She needed to prove to Will that her career wasn’t some flight of fancy, that she did have some direction to her life despite her screwups of the last year.
“So tomorrow we check out the mills?” Annabeth asked before taking a bite of her salad.
“If you and Patricia can still make it, I’d love to. We’re headed up to Baltimore next week, and I want to have some ideas to present to Sebastian by then.”
“She and I are planning on it. The only new business we’ve had in two years is an orthopedic rehab hospital. While it’s great for the community, the only ones who’ve been able to find a job there are those with technical skills. We need jobs for the less skilled employees who are out of work in town. In the past five years, this town has lost a blue jeans manufacturer and a linen company. A small company manufacturing clothing will provide jobs to those who stuck around and are scrimping by on the wages they earn during the tourism season.”
Julianne stood, brushing out her skirt. “Great. Owen is asleep upstairs. There’s a bottle made in the fridge. I should hurry over to the ball field to catch up with Will.” She hesitated. “You’re okay with not telling Will about this yet, right?”
Annabeth snorted. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t tell him yet. Most men are domineering when it comes to business, but Will is over-the-top. He went ballistic when he found out I bought my grandmother’s shop in town. It didn’t fit with his idea of what he wanted me to do with my life. As if I were going to follow his plans.”
“Where’d you get the money to buy the store?”
“His rookie season, he gave me money for a down payment on a house. I used it to buy the store instead. I lived in the trailer for another nine months, saving up what was eventually the down payment for this house.”
Julianne stilled. “Does Will know this?”
“Heavens, no! I like to let him think he got his way.” Annabeth eyed her sternly. “Don’t you tell him, either, Julianne. That one’s our secret.”
Julianne smiled and held up her pinkie. “Pinkie swear!” Instinctively she leaned in and hugged Annabeth. Her mother-in-law paused a moment but then hugged her back.
• • •
Owen’s eyes rolled back in his head in complete contentment as Annabeth slipped the finished bottle from his lips. A small smile formed on his face as he dozed off to sleep. She brushed her thumb over his soft, wispy hair.
Had Will ever been this content as a baby? Her son had come out of the womb with a chip on his shoulder, it seemed. He was a colicky, cranky baby. Nothing like the adoring, devoted child she’d envisioned. Everything went so fast back then. She was just a child herself trying to figure out how to be a mom. It had been a lot of work.
But eventually they’d made it through, and Will became her protector, a little mini-man who was in a sense devoted to her. It seemed at times that Will was growing up faster than she was. He’d been smart as a whip and determined to make a name for himself and make everyone in Chances Inlet respect him. All that had done was isolate him further. Today he had teammates, but he wasn’t close to them. Will was their leader, and he liked maintaining that distance.
Then along came Julianne. Annabeth couldn’t condone her daughter-in-law’s action with regard to withholding Owen’s paternity, but things had ultimately worked out. While neither Julianne nor Will would admit it, Annabeth knew the two of them were more involved than they claimed.
“Unless that’s you putting all those love bites on your mama’s neck, little one,” she whispered to the sleeping baby before reluctantly putting him in his crib. “For your sake, I hope they aren’t playing games and are serious about this relationship.”
She had the feeling Julianne had already committed her heart to the marriage; from what Annabeth could tell she wasn’t one to love halfway. Her son, on the other hand, kept his emotions locked deeply inside, believing they were a sign of weakness. For all she knew, Julianne could just be a convenient sexual partner for him; he was a man, after all.
Closing the nursery door, Annabeth prayed she was wrong about Will. He needed Julianne and Owen as much as they needed him. Will just didn’t know it yet.
Her cell phone was ringing when she reached the kitchen. Hank’s number popped up on the screen. Annabeth took a deep breath. She couldn’t keep holding him off, yet she didn’t want to end their relationship. Hank would do it eventually, she was sure of that, and Annabeth would rather save herself the heartache. Except she found herself looking forward to his e-mails and his calls every day, and she’d miss him when they stopped coming.
“Hi,” she answered as she slid down onto the sofa overlooking the sea.
“Oh, good, you answered. I was beginning to think I’d missed you.” The deep timbre of Hank’s voice reverberated in her belly and parts farther south.
“I was up putting Owen to bed.”
“How’s the little guy doing?”
“He’s wonderful. Perfect, actually.”
“So is his grandmother.” The reverence in his voice made her quiver.
Annabeth needed to change the subject. “How’s Sophie?”
Hank’s resigned sigh echoed over the phone. “She’s on her way to Alaska. Elizabeth and Kevin have been planning this cruise for a couple of years. Despite her whining about sharing a cabin with the twins, I think Sophie will enjoy it.”
“I’ve always wanted to see Alaska.” She was unsuccessful at keeping the wistful tone out of her voice.
“Why haven’t you?”
His question made her both angry and sad at the same time. It was another example of why they could never be a couple. Once the sizzle of the sex appeal died down, he’d be stuck with a small-town girl whose education was made up of what life threw at her in a small corner of the world. He’d end up hating her or worse, pitying her. Either alternative made her stomach seize up.
“I’m trying to fit it in between my trips to Switzerland and Bora Bora.” She didn’t bother concealing her sarcasm.
“Stop it, Annabeth! My question was a valid one. You have the money and certainly the free time to go. Why don’t you?” He was testy now, too.
“I have a business to run, Hank. It may not be as important as a football team, but it is my livelihood.”
“Bullshit.”
Annabeth felt the force of the word through the phone, like a slap in the face.
“You wanna know what I think?” he asked.
“No!”
He ignored her. “I think you like using that shop, that town, as a shield. A place to hide so you don’t have to go out in the world and make another mistake or take another chance. That’s no way to live your life, Annabeth. You can’t be afraid of being the woman you’re meant to be or of how others will perceive you. Damn it, you’re so much more than you think you are. You just need to prove it to yourself first.”
“Well, I hadn’t realized you had a psychology degree hanging on the wall with all your other college degrees, Hank. Thank you for explaining my problems so the girl with the GED could easily understand them.”
“And that’s another thing, Annabeth,” Hank’s voice boomed over the phone. “The only one who gives a damn about your supposed lack of education is you! No one else is holding it against you or judging you. Everyone looks at you and sees a smart, savvy, beautiful businesswoman.”
“And what happens when I’m not so beautiful anymore, Hank?” she snapped. “When I actually have to hold a conversation with you or your friends and I don’t measure up?”
“What?” Hank’s exasperated voice shouted in her ear. “What are you talking about? We’ve spent the last two weeks talking. Have I ever given you the impression that you didn’t . . . measure up? That I haven’t enjoyed our conversations? Or that they’ve somehow been lacking?”
Annabeth could feel his anger biting through the phone. She felt a little ashamed, but she had no other way to explain herself.
“Tell me, Annabeth, did you think these past two weeks of e-mails and phone calls were just a prelude to sex?” His voice had gone very quiet. “Do you honestly think I’m that shallow?”
No, she wanted to shout. She knew he wasn’t shallow, that his interest went beyond just a physical relationship. The problem was, she wasn’t sure she could keep him satisfied beyond a physical relationship, and she didn’t want to see his face when he came to that realization. Annabeth cared about him too much to endure that kind of pain.
When she didn’t answer, he spoke. “Well, I’d hoped for more, Annabeth. A lot more. I know you’re capable of that, but until you realize it too, there’s nothing more I can say.” He swallowed. “I hope one day you find the courage to see who you really are. Have a nice life, Annabeth,” he said softly before hanging up the phone.
Numb, she slumped back into the sofa and let the tears fall.