“Yeah, what the fuck did he mean by 'more'?” Sue asks, skepticism obvious. Even Kat’s looked up from her phone to listen.
“I don’t know. I just...” I pause and look back at Sue. “I was worried too and I told him that I didn’t know if I could handle it because I would probably want more, and he said he could give me that.” I think back to that night, just two nights ago and I’m fairly certain that’s exactly what happened. It makes me feel secure, that I can be open about how I’m feeling and that he’s receptive to it. It makes me feel… cherished in a way. Respected at least.
Maddie lets out a small sigh of satisfaction, like a young girl in puppy love; she’s obviously the only one happy about what I’ve said. Sue taps her nails rhythmically on the table and Kat hasn’t moved, still watching me like a hawk watches its prey in the sky. Circling, waiting to strike.
Jesus, and these are my friends. I steady myself and take a sip of coffee.
“I just don’t understand why?” Kat says, setting her phone down and turning her attention to me. “Why him?”
Mason is nothing like the man I should be with. But that man is gone, and I’m not interested in replacing him.
“It’s just for fun,” I answer her. Lies. God, it’s such a lie!
“But it’s not. You just said it’s not. So I don’t get it.” For once in my life, I wish Kat wouldn’t call me out on my bullshit. I wish they’d all just turn a blind eye to the obvious downfall I’m headed toward. Just like I’m doing.
I take another drink of coffee, feeling defensive and like I’m not sure that I really want to even have this conversation.
“You’re not going to settle down with him,” Kat says and waits for me to look at her before continuing, “right?”
“I’m not settling down or replacing-” Jace’s name gets caught in my throat.
“I feel like you may be setting yourself up for a major breakup.” Kat holds my gaze and I fucking hate that she says it, because I feel the same. But it’s so good right now. And I just want to live in this moment, because this moment feels so damn right. Well it did before my friends chimed in.
“Maybe he’s a rebound,” Sue says with a shrug and then looks up at the menu on the other side of the room. The whiteboard travels from wall to wall and the text is fairly large, but she’s not reading it. All four of us have that menu memorized.
“Yeah,” I agree with her, holding up my cup of coffee and looking back at Kat for what her response will be to that.
“I’m just worried,” Kat says softly and picks her phone back up, but she doesn’t look at it. She bites down on her lip as she asks, “Can we meet him?”
“For fuck's sake, Kat,” Sue says from across the table, practically glaring at her. “You don’t introduce a rebound to your friends.”
“Is that a rule?” Kat bites back.
“It’s weird!” Sue’s brow is comically raised as she stares back at Kat like she can’t be serious.
“I’d like to meet him,” Maddie says with a sweet innocent tone that doesn’t match the other two.
“I think no,” I answer all three of them at once. “It’s just sex, but there’s a level of respect and understanding.” I nod my head once. “That’s what the more is.”
I take in a deep breath, feeling like I’ve fixed my nonexistent problem. That’s exactly what this is. It’s just a mutually beneficial arrangement with respect... and sex, of course.
Both Kat and Sue are silent, each nodding and probably unhappy with the decision, each for their own reason, but I don’t care.
“I have a meeting with my CPA,” I tell them as I glance down at my phone. I was going to walk there, but there’s no way in hell I’m going to make it now. “I gotta go,” I huff out as I reach down to grab my Marc Jacobs tote off the floor.
“Hey,” Kat says, giving me her full attention. “Are you happy?” she asks me with all seriousness.
I stand up, slinging the purse over my shoulder and pushing the stool back. Licking my lips, I nod my head.
“Yeah,” I tell her and that smile comes back. “I’m happy.”
I expect some kind of guilt or feeling of inevitable doom, but all the girls smile and Maddie squeals with delight. My chest feels empty, as if I’m lying to myself and afraid that someone will expose my lie. But I am happy. This is what happiness feels like, isn’t it?
“That’s what matters,” Kat says with finality.
“Damn right,” Sue adds her two cents, grabbing her purse to join me.
“Wanna share a cab?” she asks, the conversation of Mason and whatever the hell I’m doing with him long gone. At least for now.
Chapter 21
Julia
Time keeps moving, even if you stand still.
Grief keeps you down, all against your will.
It’s not to be overcome, it’s not left in the past.
This pain in my heart, this pain is meant to last.
I hate being here in this office. It’s always so dark. I don’t understand why Mr. Allen Walker doesn’t open a damn curtain. The plain white shades aren’t thick, but they’re very good at blocking out what little sunlight would shine through the windows to my right. The office practically butts up against the building next door. Through the small gap where the fabric should meet, I can see the old brick from Parks Towers next door. I’d rather look at that and have some damn sunlight than the curtains.
I scoot back on the chair, my purse in my lap feeling more and more uncomfortable.
“Miss Summers,” Allen addresses me as he always has, since I was a little girl and after I was married, but it feels different now. He shuts the door behind him, a smile on his face as he shoves the thin-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Fine lines and wrinkles crease around his eyes as he holds out a hand for me. I stand up, the lightweight chair sliding back on the thin carpet as I shake his hand.
“It’s been too long,” he says warmly. I nod my head and smile politely, although I disagree.
The last time I was here was a few days after Jace passed away. That day, Allen made sure to call me by my legal name and not the name I grew up with. The memory makes the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge as I clear the lump in my throat and retake my seat. Uncomfortable as it may be, it’s the only one I’ve got.
It seems he’s forgotten that Summers still isn’t my legal name. I look down at my barren hand and think that’s my fault. I took my wedding ring off months ago. That was easy, all things considered, but changing my name is something else entirely. It’s like erasing Jace, and I won’t do that.
“It has,” I say lightheartedly, pulling my light grey pencil skirt down and retaking my seat as he takes his on the other side of the desk.
My chair is small and uncomfortable, while his is large and practically molds to his body.
I shake out the anxiety running through me as I straighten my back and ask, “What is it that you needed me to sign?”
A rough laugh fills the room as he shakes his head. “No, nothing to sign. I need decisions, Miss Summers.”
My body tenses at my name, but I bite my tongue. “Of course, and what decisions?”
“As acting advisor to your estate and investments, I need you to look these over,” he says as he pulls out several folders and sets them in front of me. My brow pinches as I open the first and then the second. It’s shit I don’t know a thing about. I’ve never been involved with these things, these investments and stocks.
“I,” I start to say and let out an uneasy breath. “Is there a way that I could take your advisement, Mr. Walker?”
He turns his head to the side and raises his brow as if to say I should have done that a long time ago. “I advised your husband when he made these and unfortunately the choices now are to stay and keep your money in a losing bet, or to withdraw and lose a substantial amount.”
My body goes cold as I take in his words. “I don’t understand.”
“Mr. Anderson was adamant ab
out buying these properties and he assured me that it would be worth the risk, but I’ve waited over nine months now and still there's been no growth since the drop.”
“The drop?” I ask him, feeling the blood drain from my face.
“It was on the decline when he purchased. He was a bit surprised that it continued to drop, yes.” Mr. Walker leans back, waiting for my reaction.
“How much of a decline?”
“Fourteen million.”
Holy fuck. I close my eyes, gripping onto the edge of the seat.
“There’s still nearly six million invested, so you can withdraw if you'd like. I do like to say you’ve never lost money until you sell, but the fact is that I still believe you’re not going to see the return your former husband was banking on.”
My entire body is tense and on edge. Fourteen fucking million dollars. Fourteen million! I want to scream and curse, I want to throw the fuck up. It takes me a moment to gather myself to be able to respond.
“Why am I just learning about this now?” I ask him in a voice that’s more filled with anger than with shock and grief. I flip over a few pages, leafing through them, but not actually reading a word.
Fourteen million. I’m going to be sick.
“Well it was stable, but it’s recently gone up just a touch and I feel like you should take advantage of the current climate.”
My mouth hangs open just a bit as I look back at Mr. Walker, eyeing his blue suit and thin red tie. I blink a few times, then fall back into my chair and shut the folder.
“Is this all of the investments?” I ask him. For the first time in my life, I’m worried. I’ve never had to concern myself with income. I’ve been blessed and grateful, but I sure as fuck wasn’t careless. This right here, this feels like careless to the maximum degree and I’m embarrassed. I’m sick to my stomach and mortified.
I swallow thickly and cross my legs, not able to stop my foot from rocking back and forth in the air.
Fourteen million is quite a sum. It’s not the most in the world or everything I have, and I know I’ll always have my house, but it’s enough that I know it’s got to hurt.
It’s only as I sit here, my mouth feeling dry and my body like ice, that I realize I know nothing about my current financial situation. I trusted Jace to handle all that.
“Allen,” I say and pick at the clutch in my lap and look up at the man I grew up with. He’s an old friend of my father's and I do trust him, but right now I feel unsettled.
“Yes, Julia?” he asks.
“Financially speaking,” I pause, taking in a steadying breath, “is everything alright?”
He takes a moment to answer me and the time ticks by slowly, making my heart beat faster and my blood heat.
He opens his mouth, looking down at the desk but doesn’t say a word and dread hits me. “You’re going to be fine, Miss Summers. You will be,” he puts strength behind his words and looks straight into my eyes as he replies.
Thank fuck, I’m almost bowled over by the intense relief.
“It’s going to be difficult getting this money back, especially considering the amount of debt you went into remodeling your home.”
“What?” I feel struck by his last statement. “We didn’t go into debt.” I got everything I wanted on that remodel because it was the money I’d made with my first publishing contract. It was my personal reward to myself. “I accounted for every penny, and I know it was paid for with the money I brought in.”
I can’t help that my voice is full of panic and my tone is accusatory. I sit there on the edge of my seat, waiting for a response from Allen. I swallow the lump in my throat as he clicks on his mouse and takes off his glasses, scrolling through a row of spreadsheets.
“The remodel put you in quite a bit of debt, I’m sorry to say.”
I shake my head in disbelief as he adds, “If you were to sell the apartment, it could potentially make its money back.” A chill travels down every inch of my body as I take one breath, then two. “What apartment?” I ask him, my voice deathly low.
“The one downtown on Pacific Street. The one that was remodeled.”
My world spins on its axis, and I grip the arms of the chair. “Mr. Walker. I don’t own an apartment.” I lick my dry lips, my body coiled, my muscles feeling tense and tight.
“Well your husband did, and that was left to you as was everything else in his will.”
“Why wasn’t I told about this sooner?” I ask, focusing my attention on something other than the fact that my husband bought and remodeled an apartment without me knowing. Betrayal consumes me, but oddly I feel numb to it. As if I’d known all along. As if I’d turned a blind eye. 'Cause I’m fucking stupid. It’s not naiveté or my trusting nature. It’s me being fucking stupid and gullible. All the late nights at the office, all the weekend trips… My skin prickles, and a tingle goes through me. He told me it was just once when I found him in bed with another woman; I try to breathe in deeper, but my throat is closing.
“You were given the paperwork, Julia. You signed everything.”
I look up at Allen feeling betrayed by him, just as much as my husband. I want to question him, scream at him. But at the same time, I don’t care. I had this coming to me.
I didn’t know about this debt. I didn’t know about the fucking apartment. I didn’t know about a damn thing because I trusted them!
“I was mourning,” I barely get the words out. They’re cold and stagnant. Just a lame excuse for my ignorance.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Anderson,” he starts to say something else but I rise from my chair, a bitter taste in my mouth as I bite out, "Don’t call me that.”
He cocks a brow at me as I start to leave. “You need to sign these, Julia,” he speaks to me exactly like my father does. Accepting my tantrum and simply telling me what I need to do.
My shoulders shudder as I open the door with my back to him and grip the cold brass knob for dear life.
“Email them to me,” I tell him. “Email everything to me.”
“I suggest you read them quickly,” he tells me as I walk through the door.
I nod my head but I don’t verbally respond; I don’t trust myself to speak. I don’t look back at him and I don’t even breathe until I’m in the elevator. I can’t relax though, even in the empty closed-off space. I want to sag against the wall, gripping onto the steel handles. I want to hit the emergency button and give in to the pathetic emotions threatening to overwhelm me. The sadness and betrayal.
But more than any of that, I want to see this fucking apartment. I want to look at where the hell my money went. I need to get my shit together and figure out how deep of a hole I’m in.
Chapter 22
Mason
She took everything from me, it’s only fair.
I’ll give it willingly, it’s my penance to bare.
Forget the sins, let them stay where they are.
If she’ll have me, I’ll take her. But we won’t get far.
Knock. Knock. Knock. My knuckles crack against Jules’ door quickly, one after the other. I take a look around, shoving my hands into my pant pockets. The Upper East Side is far more traditional and full of old money compared to downtown where I live.
My father’s only a few blocks from here.
Jules’ street is different from where I grew up though. The cream stone and intricate carvings have history to them. Real history. I look back at the small iron picket fence and gate in front of her house. The city sidewalk is just beyond it, filled with people walking without a care in the world to wherever the hell they’re going.
I rock on my heels and knock again, wondering what they think of this house.
It looks like incredible wealth and with the well-maintained garden and up lighting on the windows, it only adds to the beauty of the old home.
I’ve been inside Julia’s home a handful of times now, and it’s odd that I feel nervous about being here. But maybe it’s because I’m coming through the front door in da
ylight. I smirk at the thought, but it’s true. My forehead pinches as I knock again with the large iron knocker this time.
The door swings open and there’s my Jules, but she doesn’t stay there long. She leaves the door hanging open and disappears inside, muttering that she has to get something, but I didn’t hear what. What the hell?
“Jules?” I call out after her, placing a hand on the heavy red door and peek inside after her. The door creaks and I second-guess going inside after her, but she doesn’t answer me.
I take a few steps inside and flick the light switch on my right before shutting the front door. A large crystal chandelier lights up the large hallway. The ceilings are taller than they seemed at night. A pale blue and cream paisley wallpaper covers the upper half of the walls with a matching, but deeper blue below the chair rail molding.
It’s modern and updated with a feminine and elegant touch, definitely not my taste, but it still holds the classic beauty of the home. A mix of modern and traditional sensibilities. It’s all Jules.
“Jules,” I call out again, pocketing my keys and wiping my shoes on the mat before stepping onto the plush area rug in the foyer.
“I’m sorry,” I hear Jules call through the hall before I see her. She rounds the corner of what looks like the dining room, both hands on her left ear as she slips an earring into place. She’s barefoot, wearing a navy blue dress with white polka dots and a thin white-leather belt at her waist. She’s gorgeous as always, but something’s off. Something’s wrong, although I can’t tell what.
“Everything okay?” I ask her, staying right where I am as she bends down to slip on a pair of navy blue heels.
“Fine. Just,” she shakes her head and stands upright, taking a step toward me before turning on her heels and heading back the way she came.
I follow her into the dark dining room. It doesn’t look a damn thing like a dining room though. The furniture is all here, but a shitton of papers litter the table along with a laptop and a printer on the buffet.
Imperfect (Sins and Secrets Series of Duets Book 1) Page 11
