“We weren’t sent here to deal with Aimee,” Goodness reminded her friends. “That woman is going to require an entire legion of angels. Our concern is Roy.”
“Oh, brother!” Mercy threw herself against the wall. “You won’t believe this.”
“What?” Shirley tried to peek but Mercy stopped her. “Oh, look at Roy.”
Goodness studied him. Roy was in an agitated state, pacing back and forth across the room. Although she was unable to read his thoughts, one glance told her that those thoughts were dark and angry.
Mercy pointed toward the other room. “You’ll never guess who just arrived.”
“Not Anne,” Shirley cried.
“No, worse,” Mercy said. “It’s Julie.”
Twenty-One
Julie stepped off the elevator and strolled toward Ms. Johnson, the guardian of Roy’s office. For two days, she’d wrestled with the question of what she should do. She dreaded giving him her answer, but now that she was here, she was more convinced than ever that she’d made the right decision.
Her natural inclination was to accept Roy’s invitation and move in with him. He was correct about one thing: it was what they both wanted. Deep down, she clung to the hope that one day he’d love her. She suspected he already did, or had begun to, anyway, but refused to acknowledge his feelings. Moving in with him had been easy to rationalize. In the end, however, after a lengthy talk with her sister, Julie had to admit that she wanted more out of their relationship. The hard part would be convincing Roy that they both needed more time.
“Ms. Wilcoff.” His assistant looked up, startled. “Did I know you were coming?”
“No, no, I stopped here on my way home from school. Is Roy busy?”
The woman, who was rarely flustered, seemed so now. “Let me check.” Rather than use the intercom, she scurried away from her desk and disappeared behind Roy’s office door.
When Jason, the downstairs security guard, had let Julie into the building without so much as a raised eyebrow, she should’ve realized there was a problem. The guard had worn a funny look, as if he knew something she didn’t. Julie had wanted to ask him, but decided against it. Now Ms. Johnson was behaving in a peculiar manner, too.
A moment later, she reappeared. “He asked me to show you right in, but…”
“But?” Julie prompted when the woman hesitated. “Is Roy having a bad day?”
The older woman nodded. “You could say that. On second thought, seeing you might be exactly what he needs.”
Now that Julie had arrived at her decision, she felt an urgency to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible. Delaying it might give her just enough time to change her mind.
Roy was sitting at his desk when she entered his office. He looked up and smiled, but she noticed that the warmth she’d grown to expect was missing.
“Should I come back later?” she asked uncertainly.
“No.” He motioned for her to take a seat.
“I probably should’ve phoned first.”
“Probably,” he agreed. He relaxed in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. And waited.
“I thought I should let you know what I’ve decided.”
He nodded, his expression unchanged.
The tightness in Julie’s throat increased. She leaned forward just a little and tucked her hands beneath her thighs, something she did when she was nervous. “I guess there’s only one way to say this…”
“You’re not accepting my invitation,” he finished for her.
“Yes.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Several, but I do want you to know how tempted I was.”
“That’s neither here nor there, is it?”
“Well, no—”
“Unless, of course, you’re figuring I’ll up the ante.”
Anger flared instantly, but Julie mentally counted to ten before responding. “No, Roy, I’m not figuring you’ll up the ante.” She stood. “I think it’d be best if we talked about this another time.”
“Now’s as good as any,” he said.
She leaned closer to his desk, desperately searching his face for the reason he’d changed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Me?” he demanded.
“You’re looking at me like…like I’ve sprouted horns or something.”
He laughed, but even his laughter sounded sarcastic. “All right, I’ll play your little game. What would it take to get you into my condo? A monthly allowance? Jewelry? Just tell me and I’ll arrange it.”
“Don’t insult me!”
“Is a thousand a week enough? You can quit teaching, live a life of luxury.”
“I like my job!”
He snorted. “Don’t give up teaching, then. Why should I care as long as you’re there when I want you?”
Julie was beginning to feel sick. “I think I’d better leave.”
“Don’t go,” he said, although he didn’t offer her a reason to stay.
“What happened?” she asked, and made a sweeping gesture with her right arm. “Something must have happened.”
“You mean other than an unexpected visit from my stepmother?” He dragged out the last word, as if even saying it was repugnant.
“Oh.” He was talking about Aimee—which explained a great deal. “So you’re back to that.”
He arched one brow. “That?”
“All women are users and manipulators and not to be trusted, and therefore you ridicule every female you meet.” She’d had enough. When Roy was in this frame of mind, there was no reasoning with him, as she knew from experience. She turned to leave.
Roy bolted out of his chair. “Where are you going?”
She ignored the question. “Perhaps we can talk when you’re feeling less…angry.”
“No, I want this settled today.”
“Then it’s settled. You have my answer.” She started toward the door.
“I don’t accept that.”
Julie faced him and slowly shook her head. “You know what? There are some things you can’t buy, and I’m one of them.”
He scoffed. “You’ll change your mind.”
Rather than argue with him, she simply walked away. She was so furious her head felt about to explode. Mingled with the anger was a profound hurt. Roy didn’t respect her, let alone love her. He viewed her as an object he could control—and then discard when he’d finished.
“Julie?” Ms. Johnson stood as Julie walked by.
Numb now, she only half heard the other woman. All Julie wanted was to escape. She hurried toward the elevators, hitting the down button.
“I shouldn’t have let you see him,” Ms. Johnson said anxiously. “He hasn’t had a good afternoon.”
“Don’t make excuses for him,” Julie told her, stepping into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, she slumped against the wall. Everything had become clear. She knew that some people were unable to move past the pain inflicted by others. They carried it with them for the rest of their lives, and everyone they met, everything they accomplished, was blighted by that pain. Roy, sadly, was one of those people.
When the elevator reached the lobby, Julie straightened, eager to get away from Fletcher Industries—and Fletcher. When the doors slid open, Jason stood directly in front of her, legs braced apart, hands on his hips.
“Mr. Fletcher would like to see you,” he announced.
“Tell him another time would be better,” Julie said, attempting to get past him.
“He insisted. I’m sorry, Ms. Wilcoff, but I have my orders.”
“Which are what? Shoot me on sight if I refuse to talk to your boss? This is illegal confinement, in case you weren’t aware of it.”
A smile cracked Jason’s tight lips. “Just talk to him, all right?”
“I’m supposed to take the elevator up to his office?”
Jason nodded.
“I won’t do that.”
Jason’s eyes pleaded with her. “As a personal favo
r to me, would you just do it?”
“Sorry, no.”
“Ms. Wilcoff, he called down here himself and asked me to keep you in the building.”
Despite her anguish, Julie laughed. “That’s quite a contrast to his earlier commands, isn’t it?”
“Can’t help that.” He shrugged. “I will say this—you’ve certainly made my job interesting.”
Julie gave an exasperated sigh. Talking to Roy, especially now, wasn’t going to solve anything. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” When it looked as if Jason was about to detain her, Julie leaped agilely to the right and then just as quickly to the left. To her astonishment, without the least bit of effort, she sprinted past the guard.
Jason appeared stunned. “How’d you do that?” he asked, chasing after her.
She was at the door, pushing it open, when he reached her. He stretched out his arms, lunged forward—and froze in place. “I can’t move,” he cried. “Something’s holding me back.”
“Good try, Jason,” she said as she walked outside, taking a moment to admire Anne’s angel windows. Too bad Roy didn’t understand the spirit of Christmas—or the nature of faith and love—the way his mother did.
“I’m not joking!”
The door closed behind her as she bolted toward the visitor parking lot. She glanced over her shoulder once to find Jason still in that odd position, one leg stretched out as if stepping forward to grab her. When he noticed her watching him, he called out for help. Smiling, Julie simply shook her head. He certainly had an inventive approach to getting her sympathy.
After she drove away from Fletcher Industries, Julie headed toward the school. It was almost dark now, but she needed to vent her frustration, so she changed into running gear and jogged toward the track. After doing a couple of quick laps, she left the field and took one of her usual routes in a friendly neighborhood near the school. Generally she avoided running in the dark, but her gear had reflective tape so she could be seen by oncoming traffic.
Her feet hit the pavement in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. Her thoughts, however, flew at a far greater speed. Anger was soon replaced by sadness. Sadness became regret…and resignation. As she approached the five-mile marker, she became aware of a car driving behind her.
It could only be Roy.
He eased his car alongside her and lowered the passenger window. “You have a hard time following directions, don’t you?”
“Not at all.” She slowed to a clipped walk, her arms swinging. “Why would you say that?”
“What did you do to Jason?”
“I didn’t do a thing to him.”
Roy brought his sedan to a stop, parked it by the curb and then jumped out. Jogging around the front of the vehicle, he joined her. “That’s not what he told me.”
“Believe what you want.” She tried to hide how hard she was breathing—and how pleased she was to see him. Because, in spite of everything, she was. But that wasn’t going to change the situation.
“Come on, Julie, be reasonable. If you want an apology, you’ve got one. I was rude and arrogant.” He paced his walk to hers.
“Yes, you were.”
“Thank you for being so gracious,” he muttered.
“I don’t think we’ve got anything left to discuss. You have my answer.”
“I want you to reconsider.”
“It wouldn’t work,” she said, and she meant it. She stopped walking, and at the risk of letting down her guard, raised her hand to his cheek. “In the beginning, living together would’ve been wonderful—”
“It still can be.”
“But it wouldn’t last.”
“Nothing lasts forever, and we’d be foolish to think otherwise.”
“My parents’ love for each other did.”
“Mine didn’t.”
Julie shrugged. “I’m sorry for you, sorry for them, but I can’t let what happened between your mother and father taint my life. I’m falling in love with you, Roy, and I want it all.”
With an angry sigh of frustration, he threw back his head to stare at the dark sky. “Julie, come on! I’m willing to give you whatever you want.”
“But that’s just the point—you aren’t.”
He placed his hand over hers and brought it to his lips, kissing the tender skin of her palm. “We could have something good. Who cares if it doesn’t last a lifetime?”
“I care, Roy. I’m sorry, I really am. It would be so easy to let you persuade me, but in the end I’d have nothing left except a broken heart.” He couldn’t possibly know how much she already loved him.
Roy released her hand. “You’re like all the rest, aren’t you? You want to control me, get your hands on my success and make it your own. Naturally, your term for this is love. I’m supposed to marry you and promise to spend the rest of my life with you? Well, you can forget that.”
“Oh, yeah, the old marriage trap. It’s worked for thousands of years, but it’s not good enough for you. Silly me—refusing to settle for anything less than love and commitment.” She gestured wildly with one hand.
“I can’t do it, Julie.”
“I know.”
“Then there’s nothing more to say.”
“Obviously not.” Her throat constricted with sadness.
Neither moved. Neither wanted to be the first to turn away, Julie suspected, or to acknowledge that this relationship was over almost before it had begun.
Finally she was the one who turned and, with tears burning her eyes, ran in the opposite direction.
Twenty-Two
Saturday afternoon, Christmas music played softly in the background as Anne pulled her suitcase from the closet and laid it on her bed. She sang along with her favorite carols as she started to take sweaters from her dresser drawers. Since Marta had sent her the airline ticket online, she’d had two additional phone conversations with her. Things seemed to be looking up. Jack had made numerous attempts to speak to her and she’d agreed to meet with him—after she got the report from the private investigator. Needless to say, she didn’t tell him that part; Jack had no idea his wife was having him followed. Their conversation would depend on what the investigator discovered. Still, Jack’s willingness—indeed frantic desire—to get his wife back boded well, Anne thought. She was grateful Marta could benefit from her experience.
Marta hadn’t given Anne any new details regarding the sale of her angel portrait. However, from everything her friend had told her, the news was good. The painting would definitely sell, and for a high price, too.
A noise in the living room startled Anne, and she paused to listen again. Someone was in her home. “Who’s there?” she called out, a little nervous. She tried to remember where she’d left her portable phone.
“Mother?”
“Roy?” She hurried out of the bedroom. “What are you doing here?” Her son’s appearance shocked her. He hadn’t shaved in a day or two and looked as if he’d slept in his clothes.
“Frankly, I don’t know,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “I started driving and then all of a sudden I was on a ferry, headed to your place. I guess I just need to talk.”
“My goodness, what’s happened?” she asked, resisting the urge to take him in her arms.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d already left for New York or not.”
“I fly out in the morning. Now, sit down and tell me what’s wrong.” For once he didn’t argue. She directed him into her kitchen, sat him down at the small table and immediately started cooking. At times like this, food could be a wonderful comfort. She put on a pot of coffee, then took out a pan and set it on the stove. After that, she retrieved two eggs from the refrigerator. When she saw that she was paying more attention to creating the perfect omelet than to her son, she stopped. She pulled out a chair and sat across from Roy.
“What is it?” she asked gently.
“I asked Julie to move in with me,” he mumbled.
Anne sighed heavily. That wasn’t what she wanted fo
r her son; in fact, she saw it as a mistake for both of them, but young people always thought they knew best.
“You don’t approve. Julie knew her father wouldn’t, either, not that it matters, anyway.”
“She turned you down?”
“Lock, stock and barrel. I guess I should be grateful.”
He certainly didn’t look grateful. If anything, Roy seemed distraught. Immediate questions came to mind, but Anne avoided asking, knowing Roy would explain everything in his own time. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Julie insists on what she calls love and, of course, marriage.” He spit out the words as if they tasted foul.
“You’ve had setbacks before,” Anne said, hardly able to credit this kind of reaction to a simple rejection. Privately Anne was cheering Julie for having the courage to hold out for what she wanted. It couldn’t have been easy to turn him down. When Roy went after something, he did it with a determination that was difficult to ignore.
“This is more than a setback.”
“How do you mean?”
Roy rubbed a hand tiredly down his face and shook his head. “I was foolish enough to believe she was different.”
“Julie is different. She’s special. I know you think every woman’s like Aimee, but you’re wrong.”
“No, Mother, in Julie’s case I’m right.”
“Julie isn’t anything like Aimee,” she said adamantly.
“She just proved to me she is.”
“What are you talking about?” He’d have to show her the evidence before Anne would believe him. Although she didn’t know Julie well, Anne had sensed genuine goodness in her. She felt, too, that Julie had attained the spiritual and emotional insights that only someone who’d suffered could fully understand.
Roy reached inside his jacket and pulled out a wad of folded papers. “Read this.”
Anne took the papers, opening them on the table. She put on her reading glasses and quickly scanned the contents. As far as she could see, it was a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo. “It’s some sort of settlement offer,” she said. “Oh, here’s Julie’s name.”
“I know what it is,” Roy barked, then cast her an apologetic glance. “Remember when I ran into her?”
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