Julia tensed. “I can handle it. I’m not a total idiot, despite rumors to the contrary.” She saw hurt flash again in her sister’s gaze and regretted her defensive tone.
She did most of the paperwork for the salon when Charlie went to bed to minimize her hours away from him. She spent many late nights pouring over the accounts and payroll information, terrified she’d make a mistake or miss an important detail. She was determined no one would ever see how unqualified she was to run her own business.
“No one thinks you’re an idiot,” Lainey said quietly. “You’re doing an amazing job with the salon, but I know how things get when you’re tired. I’m offering another set of eyes if you need them.”
“I’m sorry I snapped.” Julia rubbed two fingers against each temple, trying to ward off an impending headache. “I’ll take it slow. It’s routine paperwork, not splitting the atom.”
“Could you delegate some of this to the receptionist or one of the part-time girls? Why does it all have to fall on you? If you’d only tell them—”
“They can’t know. No one can. What if Val found out? The deal isn’t final. She could change her mind about selling to me.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Lainey argued.
“Someone could take advantage, mix things up without me understanding until it’s too late.” Julia gathered Charlie’s sippy cup and extra snacks into the diaper bag.
Lainey shook her head, frustration evident as she fisted her hands at her sides. “Learning disabilities don’t make you stupid, Julia. When are you going to realize that? Your brain processes information differently. It has nothing to do with your IQ, and you have the best intuition of anyone I know. No one could take advantage of you—”
“Have you seen my list of ex-boyfriends?”
“—without you letting them,” Lainey finished.
“Point taken.” Even as much as Julia had wanted her relationship with Jeff to work out, she should have known it was doomed. He’d been the opposite of most guys she’d dated, and she should have known someone so academic and cultured wouldn’t truly want her. They’d gone to museums and gallery openings, his interest in her giving her hope that someone would finally see her for more than a pretty face.
She’d craved his approval and made the mistake of sharing her secret with him. None of the men before him had known about the severe learning disabilities that had plagued her since grade school. She’d managed for years to keep her LD hidden from almost everyone.
Only her family and certain trusted teachers had known the struggles she’d faced in learning to read and process both words and numbers. She wasn’t sure any of them understood how deep her problems were. The embarrassment and frustrations she’d felt as a kid had prevented her from letting teachers, interventionists or even her parents truly help her.
It had been easier to play the part of being too cool for school or, as she got older, not wanting to be tied down to a real job or responsibilities. Only for Charlie was she finally willing to put her best effort forward, constantly worried it wouldn’t be enough.
“Are you still working with the literacy specialist?”
“Every week. It’s a slow process, though. Between my visual and auditory learning deficiencies, I feel like a lost cause. Sometimes I wonder if it’s even worth it.”
“It’s worth it,” Lainey said as she lifted Charlie from the floor and gave him a hug before depositing him into Julia’s arms. “LD is complex and I’m proud of you for everything you’ve accomplished despite it. I’m here if you need me. Ethan and Mom can take Charlie, so—”
“Mom’s back?” Julia swallowed. She’d assumed her sister hadn’t heard about the engagement. But their mother had her finger on the pulse of every snippet of gossip from Brevia to the state line. “She wasn’t scheduled back until next week.” Long enough for Julia to get a handle on her mess of a life.
“She flew in this morning. I can help contain her, you know. You’ll need reinforcements for damage control on that front.”
Julia stopped in her tracks. Even though she’d worried about her mother finding out, hearing Lainey say it made her knees quiver the tiniest bit. “Mom knows? I thought she just got back.”
“She knows,” Lainey answered with an eye roll. “I think she’s waiting for you to call and explain yourself.”
Another layer of dread curled in the pit of Julia’s stomach. Her mother would support her. Vera was a big part of Charlie’s life and would fight tooth and nail to protect him. But she understood Julia’s limitations better than anyone. Julia didn’t want to know if her mom had any doubts about her ability to give Charlie a good life on her own.
Now was the time to come clean, but with Charlie in her arms, she couldn’t bring herself to voice her fears. It might make them too real.
“I’ll call her. She’ll understand. I’ll make her understand.”
Lainey only smiled. “Good luck.”
Julia needed a lot more than luck.
* * *
She tried to ignore the persistent knocking at her apartment door later that night. She hadn’t called her mother and silently debated whether Vera would make the twenty-minute drive to Julia’s apartment to rake her over the coals in person.
But Charlie had just fallen asleep after six verses of “The Wheels on the Bus,” and Julia wasn’t going to risk the noise waking him, so she opened the door, prepared for the mother–daughter smackdown of the century.
Sam stood in the hallway watching her.
Even better.
“Long day, Chief. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She tried to close the door but he shoved his foot into the opening. Blast those steel-toed boots.
He held up a white cardboard box and a six-pack of beer. “It’s been a long day for both of us. We eat first and then dig ourselves out of this mess.”
She sniffed the air. “Pepperoni?”
“With extra cheese.”
She took a step back and he eased around her into the tiny apartment. It actually didn’t feel so small with just her and Charlie in it. Somehow, Sam not only filled the room but used more than his fair share of the oxygen in it. Julia drew a shaky breath and led the way to the small dining area.
“Sorry,” she apologized automatically as she picked macaroni noodles from the maple tabletop. “Charlie’s been practicing his QB skills at mealtime.”
“Nothing wrong with starting early. Where’s the little guy?”
“Asleep. Finally.”
Sam put the box on the table and handed her a beer as he cocked his head. “Is that classical music?”
“Beethoven.”
“Sounds different than I remember. More animated.”
She picked up a remote and pointed it at the television on the other side of the room. “It’s a Junior Genius DVD.”
“Come again?”
“A program designed to increase a young child’s brain activity.” She clicked off the television. “They have research to show that it works.”
His brows rose. “I still hear music.”
She felt color creep into her cheeks. “I play a Mozart disc as he falls asleep.” She walked past him to the kitchen and pulled two plates from a cabinet.
“Are you a classical-music fan?”
She spun around and stalked back to the table. “Why? Do you think classical is too highbrow for someone like me? Would it make more sense if I was a Toby Keith groupie?”
He took a step back and studied her. “First off, don’t hate on Toby Keith. Secondly, it was a question.” He waved one hand in the direction of the bookcases that flanked the television. “You have more classical CDs on your shelves than I’ve seen in my entire life. It’s a logical assumption.”
“Sorry.” She sighed. “I like some composers but it’s mainly for Charlie. I figure he needs all t
he help he can get, living with me. You may have heard I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“Is that so?”
“It’s a well-known fact in town. My mom will tell you I have ‘street smarts.’” She met his gaze with a wry smile. “I’m sure any number of my former friends would be happy to tell you how I skated through school by charming teachers or bullying other students into helping me.” She broke off as Sam watched her, worrying that she’d somehow given him a clue into her defective inner self. She plastered on a saucy smile and stretched up her arms in an exaggerated pose. “At that point my life’s ambition was to be a supermodel.”
“Personally, I wanted to be Eddie Van Halen.” He shrugged. “Were you really a bully?”
“I like to remember it as a benevolent dictatorship. I had my reasons, but have discovered that the kids I ordered around back in the day have become adults who are more than happy to see the golden girl taken down a few pegs.” She opened the pizza box and pulled out a slice, embarrassed at her silly adolescent dream. “I was the ring leader and the ‘pretty one’ in Brevia, but couldn’t cut it in the big leagues.”
“You started over. There’s nothing wrong with that. People do it all the time.”
“Right. I went to beauty school, dated a string of losers, partied too much and tried to live below my potential.” She tipped her beer in a mock toast. “And that’s pretty low.”
“Somebody did a number on you, sweetheart. Because the way you handled that mess at the salon today took some clever negotiation skills. Not the work of a fool.”
“We’ll see what Val thinks once Ida spins it.” She slid a piece of pizza onto his plate. “Sit down and eat. Unless the pizza was a ruse to get in the door so you could rip my head off without the neighbors hearing. Might be easier than going through with your grand proposal.”
His knee brushed against her bare leg as he folded himself into the chair across from her. It occurred to Julia that she was wearing only boxer shorts and a faded Red Hot Chili Peppers T-shirt with no bra. Bad choice for tonight.
“Such violent thoughts,” he said, sprinkling a packet of cheese flakes on his pizza.
She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. As soon as she’d realized she was braless, her nipples had sprung to attention as if to yell “over here, look at us.” Not something she wanted Sam to notice in a million years.
“Why did you do it? This crazy situation is your fault.”
He frowned. “You weren’t exactly convincing as the levelheaded, responsible parent. You were about to dive across the table and take out the grandma.”
“She deserved it.” Julia popped out of her chair and grabbed a fleece sweatshirt from a hook near the hallway, trying not to let her belly show as she pulled it over her head. “But I didn’t need to be rescued. Especially not by Three Strikes Sam.” She sat back in her chair and picked up the pizza. “We’re quite a pair. Do you really think anyone is going to believe you’re engaged, given your reputation?”
“What reputation, and who is Three Strikes Sam?”
She finished her bite. “You don’t know? Brevia is a small town. But we’ve got more than our share of single ladies. Apparently the long line of women you’ve dated since you arrived has banded together. The story is that you don’t go on more than three dates with one woman. You’ve got your own fan club here in town. The ladies blog, tweet and keep track of you on Facebook. They call you Three Strikes Sam.”
Sam felt as though he’d been kneed in the family jewels. Never mind the social-media insanity, what shocked him more was that Julia acted as if she knew the details of his dating history. That possibility was fright-night scary.
“You’re making it up.”
“I’m not that creative. You can log on to my computer and see for yourself. I only found out a couple of weeks ago, when Jean Hawkins was in the salon.”
Sam swallowed hard. Jean was the dispatcher for the county sheriff’s office. They’d had a couple of casual dinners last month but had agreed not to take it further. Or so he’d thought.
“She got a blowout and a bang trim. A ‘wash that man right out of her hair’ afternoon.” Julia wrinkled her pert nose. “You know how it is—stylists are like therapists for some people. Get a woman in the chair and she has to spill her secrets.”
“And she told you about this fan club?”
Julia nodded and took a drink of beer. “Three seems to be the magic number for you. You’re a serial get-to-know-you dater.”
Sam pushed away from the table and paced to the end of the narrow living room. “That’s ridiculous.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There’s no arbitrary limit on the number of dates I’ll go on with one woman.”
“A dozen ladies claim there is,” she countered. “They say you’ve more than made the rounds.”
“I haven’t dated a dozen ladies in Brevia. Besides, why would anyone gossip about dating me?”
“You’ve been in Brevia long enough to know how it works.” She laughed, but he found no humor in the situation. Sure, he’d been on dates with a few different women. When he’d first come to town, it had sort of happened that way. He’d always been a gentleman. If things led to the bedroom he didn’t complain, but he also didn’t push it. No one had grumbled at the time.
He wasn’t a serial dater. The way she said it made him sound like a scumbag. So what if he was a little gun-shy? Walking in on your fiancée with her legs wrapped around another guy would do that to a man. It had been almost three years now since he’d had his heart crushed, and he wasn’t itching to repeat that particular form of hell. “You’re telling me I’m a joke with these women because I’m not in a relationship?” His voice started to rise. “In case they haven’t noticed, I have a serious job. One that’s more important to me than my damned social life.”
“It’s not like that,” she said quickly, reaching out to place her cool fingers on his arm. A light touch that was oddly comforting. “No one is laughing at you. It’s more like a challenge. Scary as it may sound, you have a town full of women who are determined to see you settle down. According to my sources, you’re quite the catch.”
He dropped back into the chair. “I came to Brevia because I wanted a fresh start.”
“As Mick Jagger would say, ‘you can’t always get what you want.’”
“You think this fake engagement is what I need?”
“It was your idea to start. Plus, it’s quieted the gossips, and your dad seemed to approve.”
He nodded and took a long drink of beer. “My father loved you.”
“Who can blame him?” she asked with a hair toss.
Sam smiled despite himself. “He wants to help me tap into my emotions.”
She studied him as she took another bite. “Is that so bad?”
“I don’t need to be more emotional.”
“Your fans beg to differ.”
“Don’t remind me,” he muttered.
A tiny cry came from the corner of the table and Julia adjusted a baby monitor. “I’m going to check on him.” She padded down the hall, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts. Something he didn’t need right now.
He preferred his emotions tightly bottled. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have feelings. Hell, he’d felt awful after calling off his engagement. He would have made a decent husband: loyal, faithful...
Maybe those were better attributes in a family pet, but he managed okay.
In Sam’s opinion, there was no use wearing his heart on his sleeve. The scraps of memory he had from the months after his mother died were awful, his dad too often passed out drunk on the couch. Neighbors shuttling Sam and his brother to school and a steady diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. When Joe finally got a handle on his emotions, it had saved their family.
Sam would never risk caring f
or someone like that. Feeling too much, connecting to the feelings he’d locked up tight, might spiral him back into that uncontrolled chaos.
He looked around the apartment, taking in more details with Julia out of the room. The dining area opened directly onto the living room, which was filled with comfortable, oversized furniture covered in a creamy fabric. Several fuzzy blankets fell over the arm of one chair. A wicker box overflowed with various toys, most of which looked far more complex than he remembered from childhood.
In addition to the classical CDs, framed pictures of Charlie with Julia, Vera, Lainey and Ethan sat on the bookshelves. Sam had also noticed an impressive collection of books—several classics by Hemingway, Dickens, even Ayn Rand. For someone who clearly didn’t see her own intelligence, Julia had sophisticated taste in reading material.
The baby monitor crackled, drawing his attention. He heard Julia’s voice through the static. “Did you have a dream, Charlie-boy?” she cooed. “Can Mommy sing you back to sleep?”
Charlie gave another sleepy cry as an answer and a moment later Sam heard a familiar James Taylor song in a soft soprano.
He smiled as he listened to Julia sing. Classical for Charlie, Sweet Baby James for his mother.
Sam felt a thread of unfamiliar connection fill his heart. At the same time there was a release of pressure he hadn’t realized he’d held. In the quiet of the moment, listening to her sweet and slightly off-key voice, the day’s stress slipped away. He took a deep breath as his shoulders relaxed.
“I love you, sweetie,” he heard her whisper, her tone so full of tenderness it made his heart ache all the more.
He understood in an instant how much it meant for Julia to keep her son. Knew that she’d do anything to keep Charlie safe.
Suddenly Sam wanted that for her more than he cared about his own future. But he was a man who’d made it through life taking care of himself, protecting number one at all costs. No matter how he felt about one spirited single mother, he couldn’t afford to change that now.
Hearing footsteps, he quickly stood to clear the dishes from the table.
Her Accidental Engagement (Harlequin Special Edition) Page 4
