“Maybe you just haven’t found your medium,” he said as he walked around and examined the castle. “Not everyone figures it out when they’re young. My mother always thought she wasn’t artistic, but we were on vacation a couple of years ago and she started taking pictures. She mentioned that she thought photography looked interesting and I encouraged her to try it. Now she takes the most amazing pictures. And I’m not talking about just snapping shots of friends and family. She can go anywhere and capture something that no one else probably noticed and make it look beautiful.”
Charlotte straightened and looked at him. The way he spoke, the passion in his voice, told her how much his relationship with his mother meant to him. She could hear the affection and pride even if he wasn’t aware of it. It sounded like they had an amazing relationship.
“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she said softly.
In that moment, Julian seemed to realize what she meant and he looked away almost as if he hadn’t meant to tell her so much.
She looked out at the ocean and inhaled deeply. If she could, she’d sit out here all day and not think about anything except how good the breeze felt, but that wasn’t going to happen. At least not today.
Pulling her phone from her purse, she checked the time and knew she was right. By the time she walked back to her car, stopped at the grocery store, and went home to start her laundry, it would almost be time to head to work.
Maybe there’d come a time when she wouldn’t schedule herself for these weekend sessions, but right now she really had nothing else to do with her time. Her parents had moved to New Mexico last year, her siblings were all married and scattered all over the country, and she wasn’t currently dating anyone. So, while she had the time and there was a need, she didn’t mind doing it.
Looking at Julian, she saw he was studying her again. His gaze was intense, his brow furrowed. She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d look like if he actually relaxed and smiled.
She’d bet good money that he had a great smile.
“I should get going,” she said finally, explaining all the things she needed to do. “You have my card and if you’d like some help with job placement, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
He nodded.
“And if you have the time and a way to get there, we could always use the extra help at the shelter today.”
Another nod.
Conversation clearly wasn’t his thing.
Stepping closer, she held out her hand to him again. “Thanks for the walk on the beach.”
This time when he nodded, there was a small smile to go along with it.
Baby steps.
He took her hand in his, and just as earlier, it was big and warm and…yummy.
And it was completely inappropriate for her to be thinking about that.
“Take care of yourself, Julian,” she said, and slowly removed her hand from his.
“You too, Charlotte,” he said, and something about the way he said her name made her inappropriate thought of a moment ago seem tame. His voice was deep and rich and a little rumbly and…yummy.
She was going to blame the use of that word on the muffin and the fact that his breakfast order had prompted her to have sweets for breakfast—something she rarely did—but she knew she was only kidding herself. The man was yumminess personified. Not that it mattered; if she did happen to see him again, it would be in a purely professional capacity and she needed to remember that. She’d never been faced with this kind of situation where she found herself attracted to a client, but she was fairly certain there had to be rules about such things.
With a smile and a wave, Charlotte forced herself to turn and walk away. It wasn’t until she was almost back to the steps that she allowed herself to turn around one last time.
And gasped softly when she saw Julian was standing exactly where she’d left him—watching her.
Chapter 2
What the hell am I thinking?
Five hours later, Julian found himself standing outside the outreach center in downtown Santa Monica asking himself that—and not for the first time since he’d decided to go.
But there’d been something about Charlotte Clark, with her long, wavy brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. When he’d first seen her at the coffee line, he had found himself momentarily tongue-tied. And more than a little stunned that he would feel such a strong pull of attraction to anyone right now.
At first, he’d thought there was no way someone would step up and pay for his breakfast without wanting something from him. It wasn’t possible. It had happened too many times before—a beautiful girl wanting to buy him a drink in hopes of endearing herself to him. He thought she had recognized him and hoped by paying for his order he’d be so grateful that he’d do something for her—an autograph, a picture, or who knew what else. He’d heard and been asked for it all before.
But she didn’t ask for a damn thing. If anything, she had seemed so genuinely concerned about him that he couldn’t quite comprehend it. Once he mentally counted to ten and got his initial rage under control, it didn’t take long for him to realize she didn’t have a clue who he was. That did happen from time to time—as the drummer in a band, Julian was sometimes in the background. Honestly, not being front and center in Shaughnessy was a perk for him. Especially while he’d been on the road for the last several months. Very few people recognized him now.
And that’s when he decided that maybe—just maybe—he could let down his guard a little bit.
Before life had gotten so complicated—or maybe he should say before he was forced to accept all the ways his life had gotten so out of control—Julian never had a problem with being suspicious of everything and everyone. Early in his career with the band, it had been fun when people wanted to buy them a drink or dinner. Unfortunately, once they hit it big, things like that were no longer a friendly gesture; they were the means to an end. Riley, Matt, and Dylan never seemed to have a problem with it, but after a while it had started to grate on Julian’s nerves. He didn’t care if someone wanted something from him, he just would prefer they be honest and up front about it.
“Because he’s Julian Grayson and he’s rich—and I want to be rich.”
Yeah. That one statement played on an almost constant loop in his head no matter how hard he tried to stop it. There was honesty for you. It wasn’t honesty to his face, but it had ended up there anyway.
Maybe there’d come a time when he’d get over it—not just Dena’s words and actions, but his near-obsessive distrust of pretty much everyone. Man, he hoped so. The constant tension and negative energy was slowly making him insane. The isolation wasn’t bothering him, but not even being able to relax enough to enjoy it was.
Pacing away from the building, Julian pulled out his phone and decided he needed a minute to get himself under control. He needed to calm down before going inside and doing…he still didn’t know what.
Scrolling through his contacts, he pulled up Riley’s number and hit it.
“Julian!” Riley said excitedly as he answered. “You’re back!”
Unable to help himself, he laughed, because it felt good to know there were people who were genuinely concerned about him and his well-being. He’d been so determined not to feel anything for so long that it was a little weird to feel this good about his friend’s reaction.
“Yeah, man. I’m back,” he said gruffly as he kept walking.
“So, how are you? You doing okay? You back in LA?”
“Actually, I’m staying in Malibu right now.”
“Ah,” Riley said knowingly. “Mick mentioned he had a place on hold for you there.”
There was no point in bringing up his reasons for moving; Riley was fully in the know about all of that. “I was relieved to have the option. I didn’t think it was going to be a big deal to be home, but…”
“It w
as,” Riley finished for him. “And I can’t blame you. I remember Dylan saying the same thing. Maybe some people can just go back and pick up where they left off and reason how it’s just a house, but it’s not. It’s a place that holds memories—good and bad.”
“Exactly.”
“But seriously, Jules, how are you?”
He shrugged even though his friend couldn’t see him. “I thought I was doing okay,” he admitted honestly, “but…now I’m not so sure.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
Julian explained about his meeting with Charlotte this morning. Looking back, he realized it was wrong to be so evasive with her. After all, the last thing he needed was a…what did she call herself…a vocational rehabilitation advisor? He didn’t need a job and he didn’t particularly want one.
So what was he doing here?
And that’s exactly what Riley asked him.
“Maybe I’m just bored.”
Riley laughed.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“Because you’re never bored. In all the years we’ve known each other, you’re the one who is always doing something. There were times I felt exhausted just watching you or listening to all of the things you would do—writing music, playing music, producing music. I swear, for the longest time I thought you couldn’t possibly be human because it seemed like you never slept. So really, I don’t think you’re bored, exactly. If anything, you hate to just sit and relax.”
“I’ve been doing nothing but sitting and relaxing for three months,” Julian reminded him.
“Not really. You’ve been running away from your demons. Not the same thing.”
That was one way of looking at it, he supposed. Still… “Not without good reason. But that’s neither here nor there. Now that I’m back, I’m sort of unsure what I want to do.”
“Why don’t we get together and hang out tomorrow? I’ll call Dylan and he can join us, and I know Matt’s back in North Carolina right now, but maybe he can fly out one day next week and we can all get together and jam. What do you think?”
He thought the way his heart was hammering that he was going to pass out.
Even though Julian had felt fairly certain he was ready to walk away from this part of his life—playing music—telling his bandmates wasn’t going to be easy. And he didn’t even want the temptation of getting behind a set of drums right now. He didn’t want to think about doing it again—playing, opening himself back up to the type of people who had betrayed him—and yet he didn’t want to hurt Riley’s feelings. Or Dylan’s, or Matt’s, or even Mick’s. Although he was fairly certain their manager suspected it was coming.
He just didn’t want to get into it all right now.
“How about we just deal with tomorrow and we’ll talk about the rest?” he said after a minute.
“I understand.”
And while Riley was probably the most levelheaded guy Julian had ever known and he’d dealt with his own anxiety where music was concerned, there was no way he could fully understand what Julian was dealing with. It was impossible. Mainly because he couldn’t explain it himself.
“So let’s get back to what it is you’re doing right now,” Riley said, interrupting his thoughts. “Why are you there at this homeless shelter? I mean, not that it’s a bad thing—volunteer work is awesome—but somehow I don’t think this is all about you doing your good deed for the day. What made you decide to drive to Santa Monica for this?”
His immediate response—even though he didn’t say it out loud—was Charlotte. She just…
Raking a hand through his hair, he sighed. There was something about her that made it impossible for him to just walk away and never see her again. And besides, it wasn’t like he had anything to do today. What was the harm in volunteering at a homeless shelter? There were worse ways for him to spend his time.
“I don’t know. The chick seemed so passionate about what she was talking about that I was curious.”
It wasn’t a total lie.
“Okay, so this is about doing a good deed,” Riley said casually. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I know,” Julian replied, a little defensively.
Riley chuckled. “You seem a little on edge for a guy just looking to do something nice. You sure that’s all there is to it?”
“What else would there be?”
“Jules, how long have we known each other?”
“Over a decade.”
“Exactly. Granted, for the second half of that decade you were involved with Dena and I spent most of the time scratching my head wondering what you were doing, but overall I think I know you pretty well.”
“Is this going anywhere?” he asked, hoping he sounded bored and not annoyed.
“I think maybe it’s about the girl a little more than it’s about the deed.”
There were so many things on the tip of Julian’s tongue and yet he couldn’t get the words out. Riley was right. This was about Charlotte, and it freaked him out more than it should. He knew that, but he didn’t know why.
With a huff of agitation, Julian said, “Look, I should go. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
Luckily Riley didn’t push him and they agreed on a time, and when he hung up, he had to wonder if he’d have any answers by then.
Julian looked up and down the street and realized this wasn’t a particularly great part of town. He’d parked several blocks away at a parking garage because…well, partly because this wasn’t a great part of town and partly because he knew if Charlotte saw his Mercedes SUV she’d have some questions for him.
And he wasn’t prepared to answer them just yet.
Not that he owed her—or anyone—an explanation. He was here to do a good thing and that’s all that mattered.
Slowly he made his way back up the street and stood in front of the center. It was a rundown-looking place—faded brick facade, dirty glass windows and doors. The small green space in front was neatly manicured, but other than that, it didn’t look all that welcoming. Maybe that was intentional—this was a functional space to help people temporarily and they didn’t want it to look so appealing that you’d want to stay for the long-term. Although he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to stay homeless. Sometimes that was the unfairness of life: you were thrust into circumstances beyond your control and ended up living the life you never imagined.
Fortunately, there were places like this and people like Charlotte to help you. He was taken from his reverie by the door opening, and much to his surprise, Charlotte stepped out. Her blue eyes widened, as did her smile when she spotted him.
“Julian,” she said with a hint of surprise. “I’m so glad you decided to come.” She looked up one side of the block and down the other before looking back at him. “Did you have a hard time getting here?”
“Not at all,” he replied. GPS makes getting anywhere easy.
“I’m so glad. We’re just waiting for a few people, but you’re more than welcome to come inside and get something to eat and drink. We’ve got some coffee and doughnuts set up for the meeting, so please help yourself.”
“I’m good,” he said. “But thank you.”
“I was just coming out to see if anyone else had arrived. We’re due to start in five minutes.”
There really wasn’t anything he could say to that so he just stood with her and waited. After a minute he asked, “So…how does this all work? Do you unload the truck first or do your class first?”
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she looked at him and seemed pleased that he was initiating the conversation. “We’ll start out with the class. We have a room set up with a conference table and a whiteboard, and computer stations around the perimeter. We’ll spend the first thirty minutes talking about the progress everyone’s made in the last week, and I’ll answer any questions the first-timers may have
. Afterward, we’ll spend an hour applying for and setting up as many interviews as possible. Once the hour is up, we’ll head back to the loading dock and help with the truck and whatever else is needed.”
Julian was about to ask her if he could just skip the class and go directly to the labor, but she started talking again.
“I think you’ll find the class very helpful. Part of the problem so many people struggle with is looking for the kind of job they want.” She paused when he looked at her like she was crazy. After all, what was wrong with going after the kind of job you want?
Then she continued. “Sometimes it’s important to start with something you might be overqualified for just to get back into the workforce. And then—in time—build up to a job that is maybe more on your level.”
“Seems to me you’re asking people to sell themselves short,” he commented. “Why not encourage them to apply for a job they’re qualified for that offers training so there’s a chance for advancement?”
“Because right now most of the people I work with are homeless or don’t have a wardrobe or even transportation to get them to and from a job. I don’t want anyone to get discouraged or have any excuses. If they can start at something—anything—and start collecting a paycheck, soon they’ll be able to look into buying the clothes they need to go on interviews with a place that is maybe more on their level of expertise. Not everyone who comes here is ready to go to work in the corporate world.”
“I suppose.”
“Believe it or not, it’s taking the first step that truly is the hardest. We tend to build up these scenarios of self-doubt in our minds and think we can’t possibly overcome the hard circumstances and it paralyzes us.”
“Us?” he asked.
She smiled and laughed softly. “You know what I mean. I’m speaking figuratively, not literally. The fear of failure truly stops so many people from doing what needs to be done. For example, you take a family who is homeless due to the husband losing his job. He’ll struggle with a lot of emotions over that and his family having no place to live. And for some people, they can’t move past that to take the step to find another job.”
One More Moment Page 4
