Until There Was Us

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Until There Was Us Page 37

by Samantha Chase


  “A paycheck?” Julian responded snidely.

  Hank ignored the comment and glared at him for a moment. “She gets to maybe take a breath and then starts all over again with the next group of people who need her. She gets verbally abused by people who are belligerent and angry about their circumstances. She cries with them, she encourages them, she feels for them. And you can be sure she’s already feeling for you, because that’s the kind of woman she is. So if you’re going to sit here with that kind of attitude, I’ll say thank you for your help and ask you to leave.”

  For a moment, Julian could only sit and stare. Seriously? They were going to ask him to leave even though he had been busting his ass to help all because he didn’t want to have an awkward conversation with Charlotte?

  Slowly, he came to his feet and held out a hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Hank,” he said evenly. Hank stood and shook his hand, and Julian turned and walked out the door.

  * * *

  The moment Charlotte walked into the center that afternoon, she noticed the changes. Her first thought was how the help Julian gave on Sunday must have motivated the staff. And it was pretty hard to hide her disappointment that she’d missed seeing him.

  Fortunately, she didn’t have much time to think about him because there were several new families who needed her attention. So for three hours, she talked and coached and advised and set up appointments to help these families get back on their feet. By the time she was done and ready to go, all she wanted was to go home, have a glass of wine, and not think. In cases like she dealt with today where there were small children who just looked sad and scared, it took a lot out of her.

  “You calling it a day, CeeCee?” Hank asked as she stepped out of the meeting room.

  “I am,” she said with a weak smile. Their routine was to talk and compare notes when Charlotte was done meeting with people. Tonight she just wasn’t in the mood for it.

  “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

  She hated to disappoint Hank, but Charlotte knew her head just wasn’t in it right now. “Actually, Hank, I have a bit of a headache and really want to head home. We’ll catch up next week, okay?”

  “Of course, of course,” he said. “Feel better.”

  “Thanks.” Making her way to the door, she was riddled with guilt. It wasn’t like her to lie. For all she knew, there was something important he had to share with her. And just as she was about to change her mind and turn around, someone called out for Hank.

  Thank God.

  Stepping outside, she let out a small sigh. Tired and a little hungry, Charlotte began to plan how she was going to spend the rest of her day. Should she stop for takeout on the way home? Stop at the grocery store for something to cook? And once she got home, would she read or watch something on Netflix? So many questions…

  She’d only gone a few steps when she spotted him.

  Julian was leaning against the front of the building looking as if he was waiting for her.

  Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  “Hey,” she said casually, surprised to find him there, since from everything she’d heard earlier, he had left hours ago. “I hear you were a real hero in there this week.”

  Pushing away from the brick wall, Julian moved toward her with a careless shrug. “Just doing what needed to be done.”

  She liked that he was a little bit humble. “Yes, but it’s been needing to be done for a long time. So thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “How has your week been?” she asked.

  “Good.”

  “Anything new and exciting happen? You know, other than all the work here on the center?”

  “Nope.”

  His lack of conversation skills was really starting to annoy her. It was on the tip of her tongue to mention how important communication skills were in the job market when he surprised her.

  “Would you like to go and grab something to eat?”

  Her soft gasp was her only response before Julian started to chuckle.

  “I figured I could pay you back for that breakfast.”

  Her shoulders sagged and all Charlotte wanted to do was stomp her foot with annoyance, but she didn’t. “Julian, I told you it wasn’t necessary.”

  “You said to pay it forward.”

  “With someone else.” She didn’t hide her exasperation very well.

  His gaze held hers for a long moment—almost in defiance. “I was going to suggest grabbing some burgers or something and just sitting and talking. It’s not a big deal. I’ll still pay it forward for the coffee and muffins, if it makes you feel better.”

  Now she was in quite the predicament. She wanted to go out with him and get to know his story a little more, but there was no way she could feel comfortable about him spending money he probably shouldn’t.

  “I’ll go, but under one condition.”

  Julian arched a dark brow at her—something he’d done before and Charlotte found it was a rather sexy gesture.

  “I pay for myself,” she said firmly, forcing herself to stop thinking of him in terms of sexiness and instead remember he needed her help.

  “Charlotte—”

  But she held up a hand to stop him. “It’s not negotiable. Either I pay for myself or I don’t go.” Then she wanted to kick herself because maybe he was only inviting her so he could pay her back and, now that she was taking that off the table, he would simply tell her good night and walk away.

  It was a possibility.

  But she really hoped he wouldn’t.

  Swallowing hard, she did her best not to look away from his intense gaze. He was quiet for so long that she started to squirm—it was like a staring contest and she was afraid to be the one to look away first. Why? She didn’t know. But it seemed important not to back down.

  “Fine,” he said finally, through clenched teeth.

  Charlotte let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and smiled. “My car is parked right across the street. There’s a great burger place around the corner we can go to.”

  “Why don’t we head back toward Malibu? There’s a great burger place right down the block from the coffee house.”

  She knew exactly the one he was referring to. “That sounds great. Do you need a ride? Did you take the bus here?”

  Shaking his head, Julian replied, “I’m parked around the corner. You go ahead and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Charlotte noticed that he stood where he was until she was safely in her car and driving away. It was a very gentlemanly gesture, she thought. And she wondered how on earth she was going to get him to share a little more about himself so she’d know how to advise him.

  Now that she thought about it, however, she realized he actually had yet to ask her for help.

  Odd.

  So, what did it mean? And how long was she supposed to sit around and wait him out?

  “As long as it takes,” she answered out loud.

  Chapter 3

  It was after six, and after only having a bottle of water since lunch—which seemed like years ago—Charlotte was more than ready to eat. Part of her was excited about joining Julian for dinner, but then she recalled why exactly it was that he was here and she had to remember her place. This wasn’t a date, this was an opportunity to help someone. And that’s what she forced herself to think about as she drove back to Malibu.

  As she sat in traffic, her mind wandered to some of the positions she knew were available that she could suggest to him and then—

  She stopped and cursed.

  Charlotte remembered her decision from Sunday to refer Julian to someone else in her office. “Okay,” she murmured. “So I won’t set anything up for him, but I can certainly give him some direction.”

  Feeling mildly satisfied with her solu
tion, the remainder of the drive was spent focusing on traffic and what other topics of conversation they could cover over dinner. Her curiosity was killing her. What kind of man was Julian? Where did he work before? What was… She stopped and realized she didn’t even know his last name! How had that happened? How had this man consumed so many of her thoughts when she didn’t even know anything as basic as his last name?

  “Well, that’s question number one.”

  Okay, maybe not number one, but Charlotte was determined to get to know more about Julian personally—for strictly professional reasons, of course.

  She knew how to talk to get people to respond and now that she wasn’t on any time restriction, she had no doubt that with the right questions, she’d be able to learn more about him. Was he married? Did he have any kids?

  Gasping, she realized it should have been one of the very first things she’d asked. What if she’d been sitting back doing nothing except sort of daydreaming about him when he had a family…somewhere, and he was trying to take care of them?

  Then he wouldn’t have asked you to join him for dinner.

  Okay, that was true, and she needed to relax and just get a grip.

  Something else she had to remind herself of as traffic crawled along.

  So rather than fret about it, she’d go into this dinner with him with no expectations and see where the conversation led.

  * * *

  Charlotte didn’t blink an eye when Julian suggested they take their dinner and eat out on the beach. She had a blanket in her trunk and if anything, she seemed more than a little excited at the prospect.

  Personally, Julian couldn’t care less about the picnic part. He was more concerned with not sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant and being recognized. He’d been back home for less than a week and it hadn’t happened, but he was fairly certain it was only a matter of time.

  He wasn’t ready for it.

  And he certainly wasn’t ready for it to happen in front of Charlotte.

  There was no way he wanted to talk about his sensationalized failed trip to the altar and the aftermath. Not with anyone. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that when it happened—when someone recognized him—it would be the first thing they wanted to bring up.

  So, what was he doing?

  He didn’t owe anyone anything, he reminded himself. If he never saw Charlotte again, he’d live. Life would go on. Just like he didn’t have to go out and grab a burger for dinner. He’d had his groceries delivered and was perfectly content to hide out back at the beach house.

  And yet here he was. Instead of hiding, he was sitting on the beach with a woman he’d just met who seemed to be under the impression that he was in need of a helping hand. True, he could just tell her she was mistaken and put an end to it. Do as Hank suggested and simply open up. But there was something about her that was intriguing to him. There was an honesty to her, a goodness, that he was finding almost too good to be true. Even without Hank’s word, he’d known it. So for now, Julian wanted to stay under the radar and get to know more about her before she found out who he really was.

  Beside him on the blanket, Charlotte sat with her sandals off, her long hair pulled back in a ponytail and a serene smile on her face. Everything about her body language said she was happy and content—all with a decent burger, better-than-decent fries, and a blanket in the sand.

  It almost seemed beyond comprehension.

  Did this sort of simplicity really make people happy? Could someone honestly find enjoyment in things like this?

  In Julian’s experience, they couldn’t. How many people had he known—especially since his career had taken off—who only seemed happy when they were dining at five-star restaurants or traveling to exotic locations for vacations, living in multimillion-dollar homes and driving expensive cars. That was his world. That’s what seemed to be the norm for what it took to make a person happy and content.

  “I love this, don’t you?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  “The burgers?”

  She let out a small laugh as she turned to look at him. “Well, the burgers are really good, but I’m talking about this—the beach, the waves, the smell of the ocean.” She inhaled deeply and let her breath out slowly. “I’m telling you, if I could, I would set up my office right here in the sand and be totally fine with it.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle at the image. “I’m not sure you’d get much work done.”

  “Probably not, but it would be worth it. It would be like constant mental health therapy. I bet I could totally make that a thing.”

  “Or you’d find yourself living here—and not in a good way—because you wouldn’t be able to pay your bills.” He said it teasingly but she seemed to sober instantly. “What? What did I say?”

  “Okay, look,” she began seriously, “I’m really trying not to pry but…”

  “But…?” he prompted.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm. They both seemed to stiffen at the gesture even as she paused. “I mean…do you have a place to stay that’s safe? Because I know of other shelters that are closer than the one in Santa Monica and I can get you in if you need it.”

  Wait a minute…on top of thinking he was just down on his luck, she thought he was homeless too?

  “Listen, Charlotte, I think you misunderstood—”

  She interrupted before he could go any further. “I don’t usually just blurt out something like that. I try to be more sensitive and wait until someone wants to confide in me about what’s going on in their life, but I feel like you’re struggling with this—and that’s totally fine! But you need to know that it’s okay and that there is help for you.”

  For a while, all he could do was stare. In his entire life, Julian couldn’t remember a more awkward moment.

  Ever.

  And that was saying something, considering the conditions when he’d essentially walked away from his life three months ago.

  “Seriously, Charlotte, you need to listen.”

  But she wasn’t listening. She was rummaging through her purse and pulling out her phone and scrolling in search of something. “We can find you a place to stay. I mean I know you have a car, but I really hope you’re not sleeping in it. There are so many options, and if you come to my office tomorrow, I can have you working by the end of the day. I promise.” Her eyes were huge and she was so passionate about what she was saying that Julian had no idea what he was supposed to do or say.

  The truth would certainly help…

  And it would, but it was going to be embarrassing to them both when he admitted why it was that he didn’t need her help.

  Dammit, this really wasn’t the way he wanted all of this to go down.

  All he wanted to do was have a simple dinner and just have a conversation with her. He wasn’t looking for drama and he certainly wasn’t looking to open the can of worms he’d been trying to keep closed for three damn months.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t have a choice.

  Tossing the rest of his dinner back in the bag, he stood up. She looked up at him in confusion and with a myriad of emotions in her eyes that almost drew him in and forced him back down beside her.

  Then he remembered another pair of expressive eyes he’d always caved to, and vowed to stand his ground.

  “I need to show you something,” he said gruffly and watched as she cleaned up her dinner mess and slowly climbed to her feet. He helped her fold up the blanket, took their trash and tossed it in the nearest can, and slowly began walking down the beach toward the houses.

  They walked along quietly, but he knew it was only a matter of time before Charlotte asked questions.

  He figured he’d beat her to the punch.

  “I’m not homeless,” he said, keeping his gaze trained straight ahead. “When we met o
n Sunday, I know you got the impression that I was a guy in crisis—and I am—just…not the crisis you seem to think.”

  Beside him, Charlotte looked at him with her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. You said you were between jobs and you couldn’t pay for your breakfast.”

  “It wasn’t that I couldn’t pay because I was broke, I just didn’t have my wallet.”

  “O-kay…”

  Julian stopped in front of the first of the houses that overlooked the beach. “You see these houses?”

  Wordlessly, she nodded.

  “This is where I live,” he said flatly, still not looking at her.

  “You live in that house?”

  “Not that one, but the fifth one down is mine for the next few months.”

  She was silent for so long that Julian thought he’d go crazy. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he forced himself to face her. “I was simply a guy who forgot his wallet that morning. I didn’t mean for you to jump to any conclusions.”

  But she wasn’t looking at him, she was staring up at the houses and when he looked a little closer, he saw her trembling slightly.

  “I really am between jobs,” he said quickly, unsure why he suddenly felt the need to explain himself. “It’s just—”

  “It’s not really an issue,” she finished for him in a soft voice, almost sad.

  He saw her swallow hard before she looked down at the sand and he knew she had to be embarrassed. He sure as hell was.

  “Charlotte…”

  Then she turned and looked at him. “Why didn’t you correct me?” she said with a little snap in her voice this time. “I mean, if I was so off-base—and clearly I was—why not just tell me the truth? Why come to the shelter and sit through my class? And why keep going back there and helping out? I never had to know, Julian! You could have just walked away on Sunday and paid it forward like I asked you to!”

  “I know,” he said and suddenly felt like he was being reprimanded as if he were a child. He’d done a lot of stupid things in his life—particularly in the last five years where Dena was concerned—and no one had ever called him out on it quite like this. Now here he was standing on the beach with this woman calling him out on something as minute as a misunderstanding over why he didn’t have a wallet.

 

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