Until There Was Us

by Samantha Chase

  He didn’t look convinced.

  “Do you have a job, Julian?” she asked.

  There was a flash of something in his eyes, but it was gone before Charlotte could begin to analyze it. “I’m in between jobs right now,” he said stiffly.

  She knew there was a reason she was drawn to him. He needed help and he was too proud to ask for it. It was as if she was divinely put in his path today!

  “There’s no shame in that,” she said compassionately, reaching out and touching his arm again. They were nice arms—sculpted and tanned and…strong. Immediately she forced herself not to focus on that, because as attractive as Julian was, she wasn’t going to help him by flirting with him. That wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was someone who could help him find work and get his life back on track. “I meet people in the same situation all the time. If you’re interested, I’m working with a group later this afternoon. We’ll be going over job listings and talking about how to apply for specific types of jobs, and then we’ll be doing some brief training.”

  “What kind of training?”

  “Today we’re working over at the homeless shelter in Santa Monica. We’ll be helping unload trucks for the food kitchen and it’s mostly manual labor and cleaning. But it’s an honest day’s work and will leave you with a sense of accomplishment.”

  Julian looked at her as if she were crazy. “You’re asking me if I want to work at a homeless shelter?”

  Nodding, Charlotte explained, “And I can help you look for jobs in your area of expertise. What is it you used to do…you know…before you got laid off?”

  His eyes went wide. “Who said I got laid off?” he asked defensively.

  “Well, you said you were between jobs. I just assumed…” And then she stopped. “Sorry. That was wrong of me. I don’t know why it is that you’re between jobs.” And then she waited for an explanation that never came.

  “Santa Monica’s about twenty miles from here,” he said finally.

  “We offer a shuttle if you need it, or I can give you bus fare. If you really want to go, that is.”

  Those gray eyes were still wide. “Now you’re offering me bus fare?”

  Charlotte couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… I guess after seeing how you reacted to the coffee and muffins, I should know better, right?”

  Luckily, Julian laughed with her. “You would think.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what,” she began and reached into her purse and pulled out a pen and a business card. Writing down the address, she handed it to him. “This is where I’ll be today at four. If you’d like to come and join us, great. If not, that’s fine too. On the front is my business number and if you would like help with your job search, please feel free to call.”

  Standing, she finished the last of her coffee and felt much better about how the morning had gone. Turning toward Julian, she smiled. “I need to get going. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot, but I’m glad we met.” Reaching out her hand to him, she added, “It was nice meeting you, Julian, and I wish you luck with finding a job. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

  Just then he stood and took her hand in his and—holy crap.

  His hand was huge and warm and it completely wrapped around hers. Charlotte knew she wasn’t a particularly petite woman, but this man certainly made her feel that way.

  “Um…” she stammered and tried to pull her hand gently from his. “Maybe I’ll see you later today.”

  Julian didn’t release her right away and when he did, her fingers grazed his palm; his skin was rough. She had to wonder what it was he used to do for a living.

  Liar. You’re curious how that rough skin would feel on other parts of your body.

  Okay…maybe.

  He didn’t respond other than to say, “It was nice meeting you, Charlotte,” and then he turned and walked down toward the beach. Part of her wanted to follow him and see where he went. He certainly wasn’t dressed for the beach—not that there was a required wardrobe or anything—but she was still curious about what his story was.

  Walking over to a trash can, she tossed her cup and bag and walked closer to the steps leading down to the sand to watch him for a little longer. He was heading down toward the more residential side of the beach. She looked down and sighed at the sight of the houses. They were magnificent but frivolous, she thought. All that money could go to so many other things—things that would help the less fortunate.

  Then again, wouldn’t she love to wake up to the sound of the waves every day if she could? The answer was a very enthusiastic “Hell yes!” So really, who was she to judge? For all she knew, the owners of those houses donated to charity and did volunteer work in their spare time. Just because she couldn’t personally afford to live in that kind of luxury didn’t mean she should begrudge those who could.

  With her eyes still down on the sand and watching Julian in her peripheral vision, she gasped when he stopped and turned around and seemed to look right at her. It wasn’t really possible to tell from this distance, but she could almost swear he was smirking—as if he knew she’d still be standing there watching him. While it would have been easy to pretend she hadn’t seen him and turn and walk away, she couldn’t make herself move.

  And when he started walking back toward her, she knew she definitely couldn’t walk away. Had he changed his mind about the bus fare? Did he have a question about accepting her help in finding work?

  When he came off the last step, they were about ten feet apart. Julian looked at her with amusement—she knew it!—and said, “I thought you said you had to go?”

  “I…I do,” she said nervously. “But I was just enjoying the view.”

  He quirked a dark brow at her and she realized how that sounded—especially since she had been watching him.

  “I mean… I was just about to leave when I saw you heading back this way. Did you need something?”

  Stepping closer, he said, “I guess I wanted to know more about what you do.”

  Relief washed over her. He wanted her help. He trusted her.

  She’d only said she had to leave earlier because she didn’t want to push or overwhelm him. There were still many hours until she had to leave for work.

  “What would you like to know?”

  With the serious look she was coming to associate with him, he considered her for a moment. “Would you like to walk on the beach while we talk?”

  Ooo…walking with her toes in the sand was her second-favorite thing to do, after listening to the sound of the waves. Not wanting to sound too giddy, she shrugged. “Sure. That sounds fine.” This was just like one of her interviews, except it was the first time she was conducting one while doing one of her favorite things.

  It felt odd and yet…right.

  Julian motioned toward the steps and they climbed down. At the bottom, Charlotte slipped off her sandals and stepped into the sand.

  “Mmm…”

  Her hand almost flew over her mouth when she realized she’d made the sound. How professional of it was her to be making noises like that?

  Beside her, Julian smirked. “Like the feel of the sand between your toes, huh?”

  Laughing softly, she said, “Guilty.”

  They began to walk and Julian spoke first. “So, how does one become a vocational rehabilitation counselor?”

  Okay, that wasn’t what she expected, but she was more than willing to talk to him about it if it meant he was going to trust her.

  “I started out as a social worker,” she began. “Actually, I went to school to be a psychologist and ended up in social work. So many of the people I met had the same issues—their lives would just seem better or would get better if they had a job. Now, there are employment agencies out there and that’s all fine and well, but it’s not always as simple as ‘You’re hired,’ you know?”

  Julian
nodded.

  “I just have a passion for this sort of thing. When I was growing up, my father got laid off and it took him years to find work. We struggled and had to go on public assistance, and I watched my once-confident father transform into this meek and almost pitiful person. His self-esteem was gone, and he went from making a decent living and supporting his family to doing menial labor and feeling ashamed. I don’t want to see that happen to someone. There should never be any shame or guilt for working to support your family. Every job is an honest job.”

  “Well, that’s not entirely true,” he argued lightly. “There are some pretty shady job choices out there.”

  “True, but I’d like to think that with the right support network in place, people have the opportunity to avoid having to make those choices.”

  They strolled at a leisurely pace, and Charlotte knew she had to wait Julian out. If he was going to share anything about himself, it would be when he was ready. She went for idle conversation—the weather, the number of people on the beach, that sort of thing. As they got closer to a cluster of houses, she couldn’t help but sigh.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Not really. It’s just…” She motioned to the houses. “Look at them. I mean, I can only imagine the cost to live in someplace as magnificent as that—and these aren’t even the really exclusive ones.”

  “Really exclusive?”

  “You know, the ones with private beaches that cost probably ten million dollars and you’re not allowed to look at them because you’re not rich enough,” she said with a laugh.

  Beside her, Julian laughed too. “Somehow I don’t think it’s quite like that.”

  “Probably not, but you know what I mean. It doesn’t seem possible that people actually live like that.” She paused before adding, “Why do they get the best views of the beach when us mere mortals can’t?”

  When Julian didn’t respond, she figured he probably felt the same way too, but it wasn’t something that was of any real concern to him.

  “So, what about you?” she finally asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

  “What about me?” he asked slowly, quietly.

  “What is it you used to do before you found yourself between jobs?”

  Silence.

  They kept walking, but Julian looked straight ahead without uttering a word. Okay, message received; he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

  Up ahead Charlotte spotted a sandcastle someone had obviously put a lot of time and effort into before having to leave it. “Ooo…look at that,” she said in awe. It stood about three feet high and had a lot of details—although some of it had collapsed since its completion. “I’ve always wondered how people can do this. It takes such skill and patience.” She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. “Something I certainly lack at times.”

  “I would imagine patience is an important part of your job,” Julian commented.

  “That part, yes. I kind of have the patience of a saint. At least, that’s what my parents tell me,” she said lightly. “I’m not artistic at all. I am an analytical thinker. I like solving problems. But to create something with my hands? Totally not my thing.”

  “Have you ever tried?”

  This time her laugh was loud and hearty. “More than you know! Oh my goodness…I’ve tried pottery, painting, quilting, knitting—both of my grandmothers were fantastic knitters and they tried for most of my life to teach me—but I’m not coordinated enough for it. Or anything like it, apparently.”

  “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.