Happily Ever Hers

by Delancey Stewart

  "Crap," Tess said. "They're really early."

  "It's good," I told her. "Maybe we'll be done early." And then I could finally talk to Jace.

  "I need to shower. I wanted to be ready. I had a plan." Tess sounded mildly panicked.

  "It's fine, Tess. You don't have to wait on anyone." We stepped past Chad and Tess looked around, taking in the people milling around the front parlor.

  "I got this," she said, and my sister went into hostess mode.

  Soon, Ryan and I were sitting next to the window, with Alison in front of us, perched on a stool like an over-alert seagull, waiting for either of us to drop something it might grab and digest. Jace had come into the room a few minutes after we'd been seated, and his eyes had glanced over me as if I was just another piece of furniture in the parlor. They'd hung for a moment too long, however, on Ryan.

  A little jolt of satisfaction popped to life in me, as much as I didn't want it to. He hadn't returned my texts, he hadn't spoken to me since last night. At least that lingering glance, in which his eyes had darkened with what looked like anger, meant he did see me. He did care. In some way, at least.

  I sighed, but just as I was telling myself to relax, Chessy skittered into the room, flapping her wings and chattering. Jack stepped in just behind her, looking exasperated.

  Alison turned her head in horror, and Jack mouthed "sorry" to her just before Chessy shrieked and launched herself at Alison, maybe deciding she was a rival for Jack's affection.

  "Chessy!" Tess screamed, sprinting into the room after the chicken, pulling her from Alison's legs, where the chicken was trying to peck her to death. Alison was teetering on top of the high stool, her legs pulled up under her. At least if she decided to write about our crazy chicken, she’d have less space for delving into my life.

  "What is that thing?" she hissed.

  Tess managed to grab Chessy and held the irate house chicken to her chest. "This is Chessy," she said, as if it was completely normal to have a house chicken attacking guests.

  Alison hadn't relaxed any at this explanation. "Why is it inside?"

  "She's an indoor chicken," Tess said. She glanced at me, but I couldn't offer any help and Alison did not look mollified. Tess's eyes rounded and she gave me one last pleading glance before she said, "It's very trendy here in Maryland."

  I nodded helpfully.

  "Really?" Alison asked, relaxing slightly.

  "Oh yes," Tess said, evidently getting comfortable with her insanity. "You should see all the fancy ladies out at lunch with their hens in designer bags. I'm surprised they're not doing it in California yet." I cringed, but Tess barreled ahead. "It's a nod to environmentalism and the humane treatment of animals, and antibiotics ..."

  Antibiotics?

  "Interesting," Alison said. I stared at her as she jotted down Tess's muddled explanation.

  "I'm sorry, I thought Chessy was out of the way," she said, taking Chessy toward the kitchen.

  "Sorry," I added, leaning in toward Alison. I wondered if insane chicken husbandry was going to make it into the article. Now all we needed was Gran ambling in, smoking a joint and screaming at children in her online game.

  "Not to worry," she said. "Very interesting."

  I could feel Jace watching from across the room, his eyes heavy as they took in the way Ryan and I sat close together, our legs touching.

  "So tell me," Alison said, looking up at us then. A wiry man with glasses and a camera was filming us from just behind her. "Tell us what it was like, when you first knew you had more than just onscreen chemistry with Ryan McDonnell." She raised her eyebrows and grinned, as if imagining herself with Ryan.

  I wanted to tell her she had a shot, that she could have him. I forced myself to keep my eyes from Jace, standing dark and handsome in the far corner of the room. "It wasn't love at first sight really," I said. "I mean, I'd seen Ryan of course—who hadn't? He'd been in every amazing action movie I saw." I turned to look at Ryan, doing my best to force all the feelings I had for Jace into the look, to make it convincing.

  Ryan smiled his easy grin. "It was more like complete adoration at first sight," he said, pulling my hand to his lips. I still wasn't used to him touching me like this. It felt stiff and unnatural, and I tried not to cringe away. He wasn't repellant—not like Chad. Just ... he wasn't Jace.

  And then it came, as I knew it would. "Are you willing to talk a bit about Zac Stevens? Your divorce and the rumors surrounding it?" Alison's face morphed into something like an eagle's, sharp and anticipatory.

  "Um," I managed. Very smooth. I glanced at Jace, met his eyes and felt heat rush through me. I was blowing this. Falling apart.

  Ryan saved me. "We don't need to drag her through that," he said, squeezing my hand.

  I cleared my throat. "It's fine," I said. "What do you want to know?" If I was really the victim here, there was no reason I shouldn’t be willing to answer at least a few questions.

  Alison went on to ask about the rumors of Zac and one of our house staff, and I told her that it had been me who caught them together, and that was how I knew for sure it was true. That question didn't surprise me. I hadn't wanted to talk about it, but I'd been prepared for it. The next one? Not as much.

  "And there are other rumors. About the settlement. That Zac has a tape he's threatening to release?"

  I felt myself stiffen. No one was supposed to know about the tape. My agent had assured me that paying Zac off would make it go away. But Alison knew. How did she know?

  "That is something I can't discuss," I made myself say. "The settlement is still being sorted by the lawyers, so I'm not able to give you any specifics, I'm afraid." I pushed down the fear that was racing up my throat, making my hair feel like it was standing on end.

  "And the blackmail rumor?"

  Ryan proved that he'd been the right choice for this job. "I think we can find other things to talk about, can't we? No one in the midst of a divorce wants their dirty laundry aired. Not even America's sweetheart," he said in a way that was both sweet and threatening at once. Maybe he was a better actor than I'd given him credit for.

  "Right," Alison said, and she smiled back, clearly ready to move on.

  I bumped Ryan's shoulder in thanks, relief washing through me.

  Alison went on with her questions, sticking to recent films and upcoming plans, and I felt the room chill noticeably when Chad took Jace's place by the door and Jace disappeared, heading for the kitchen. I managed to stay where I was, but I had to actively restrain myself from following him. I needed to talk to him, find out if maybe he just hadn't seen the messages I'd sent. Or learn if there was something else going on.

  The few times I'd met his eyes over the reporter's, they'd seemed sad, haunted, even. But Jace's eyes were always dark and expressive. Maybe I was misreading things. Maybe everything was fine.

  But I had a creeping suspicion that everything was not fine.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jace

  I watched Juliet and Ryan answer questions for the magazine and take photos all morning, feeling sick in a way I never had before.

  McDonnell's hands were all over the woman I'd begun to think of as mine, and the way he touched her was so easy, so possessive, even I was believing they were a couple. And that, combined with Juliet's texts about Hollybrook, was turning my stomach and tunneling my vision in a way that darkened everything I looked at. The gorgeous blue-skied Maryland day, the greenery leaning over the shore of the river, even Juliet, who always reminded me of light and air—it was all tinged with blackness as the ichor inside me tainted my world.

  The photo shoot would have been hard enough to handle on its own. The reporter had them rolling on the lawn together, her hair falling down around his shoulders as she straddled him and leaned down over him, giving me flashbacks to times when that hair had tickled my skin, brushed my cheeks as I buried myself inside her. They posed near the river, next to the house, with Gran and Tess (Gran complaining the whole time), and just
the two of them.

  And fuck, if Juliet wasn't a good actress. Part of me wondered if there really might be something going on with them, but I quashed it as quickly as it had been born. For all the things I was already questioning—my masculinity, my ability to be an independent adult in a world that revolved so completely around resources I didn't have—I wasn't questioning Juliet's loyalty. And I knew she wasn't with McDonnell, no matter how convincing the act.

  But maybe she should be.

  As the morning wore on and I stood near the back porch keeping an eye on things, my mother's smiling face kept sweeping through my consciousness. How different she looked in the cottage in Brentwood, how much more relaxed and happy. Juliet had given her that. She'd given her a safe place to live, a place where she could relax and garden, and live the life she deserved. Juliet had made sure she'd seen a doctor. And now Juliet was busy saving my brother too. And it was all nothing to her.

  So how could I explain that those actions, actions that were easy for her, things she could control because of her wealth, they were impossible for me? And having them handled so easily, as easily as sweeping some dust off the table top or picking up a gallon of milk, it made my entire life feel petty and small. I couldn't begin to dream of setting the people I loved up the way she had. She'd been able to manage everything simply because she decided to. Things I would have spent the rest of my life trying to find the resources to make happen.

  How was I supposed to reconcile my ego and my pride with the fact that I'd never be able to take care of my family that way? And how could I ever hope to take care of a woman like Juliet?

  I wasn't sure I could.

  I'd spent the whole night looking for some alternative to Hollybrook for Jarred. I'd talked to the hospital staff, worn tracks all over the internet trying to find some other way, something I could pay for, but it didn't exist. There was nothing I could find that would offer the same immediate care, at the same level of quality. I just didn't have the money to make it happen. And I hated myself for it.

  The only option I could come up with was to take two weeks off work and be Jarred’s babysitter until the spot opened up at the state-run facility. But as Mom had intimated, that wasn’t a sure thing. They might have a place for him. It depended on lots of factors, evidently. Hollybrook was a sure thing. If you had the cash, at least.

  In the meantime, Chad was getting on my nerves and I was close to clocking the guy. He'd been giving me creepy grins all morning and I kept replaying the way he'd asked me the night before if I was getting involved with the boss. I didn't like him, but I also didn't think he was an idiot. It was only a matter of time before he decided to talk to Austin, and then I was surely going to lose my job. And now that I’d spent my savings on Jarred’s bail? There wasn't much hope to hold out for ahead.

  But maybe it didn't matter—I wasn't sure anything else would be happening between Juliet and me. How could I ever hold my head up, knowing I needed her to take care of me?

  I was a fucking Marine.

  And I couldn't take care of my family.

  The magazine people finally left, and lunch was served on the porch. Ryan and Tess were leaving the property, and while I didn't think it was a good idea for him to be off running around Maryland, I also didn't work for him. If Juliet was here, the team stayed here. But Chad and I had a few hours off the clock, and I had a lot of thinking to do.

  I'd flopped back on my bed and had begun a serious study of the plaster ceiling when a knock came at my door.

  "Jace?" Juliet's voice was on the other side. I hated the excitement that glowed in me at the sound of her voice. I’d been avoiding her all day, I should have just continued. But that wasn’t the mature thing to do. I needed to face my problems.

  I was on my feet, opening the door, before I thought better of it. She came inside and I closed the door behind her, hoping Chad wasn't around. "Did anyone see you?"

  She shook her head. "No, I checked to make sure no one was around." Juliet gazed at me for a long second, but when I made no move to get closer, she let out a long breath and then turned, looking around the room before finally settling on the end of the bed. "Is everything okay?"

  I didn't trust myself. If I went on instinct, we'd already be in the bed, my body seeking the same intoxicating comfort I'd found with her the night before—and all the nights back at her house in Los Angeles. But I couldn't let that happen now. I sat in a chair in the corner of the room, and kept my eyes away from the puzzled look that appeared on Juliet's face.

  She spread her hands on her thighs, dropping her head for a minute and both of us staring at her hands, her pale skin white on the denim of her skinny jeans. "We told Tess the truth," she said quietly. "About me and Ryan. So you don't need to worry about keeping up the pretense with her." She glanced at me, dropped her eyes again. "Gran doesn't know still."

  "Okay," I said. I didn’t want it to, but a little spark of hope ignited at that revelation. If she told Tess it was all an act, then maybe that validated us a little bit? "Thanks for letting me know. I don't think I'll tell the guys. Just let them keep things as they are until we head back."

  "Sure," she said. She got to her feet, took a step toward me, and then seemed to think better of it. She stopped in the center of the room. "Have I done something wrong?" Her voice pulled at something inside me, made me want to reach for her, comfort her.

  I let out a slow exhale. "No." How could I tell her that every wonderful thing she'd done had been right—but that it all made it impossible for me to look her in the eyes? "The things you've done for my family ..." I swallowed hard and forced myself to look at her. To thank her properly. "I'll never be able to thank you for what you've done. Moving my mom, helping my brother ... I don't have the funds or the words to repay you. I'll never be able to repay you. That place, Hollybrook. I looked at it online, talked to the administrator there." I swallowed some of my humiliation and went on. "It costs more than I made last year, Juliet. I can't ... I don't..."

  "You don't have to repay me, Jace." She sounded surprised that I'd brought it up.

  "Of course I do. I can't let you—"

  "You didn't let me do anything," she interrupted, her voice stronger now. "I did something because I wanted to. Because I care about you, and that means I care about your family. If you saw someone lying in the street, would you help them up, or just walk by, knowing you could have stopped them getting hit by a car?"

  I looked up at her. Her cheeks were blazing pink and her eyes were wide as she waited for an answer. "This isn't even close—"

  "It's the same thing," she said. "I'm not the kind of person who can just ignore something like that."

  "It's tens of thousands of dollars, Juliet."

  "Which I can easily afford."

  "And I'll never be able to." That was the simple truth of it. I dropped my elbows to my knees and bowed my head.

  "What difference does it make?" She asked, stepping closer to me. "Jace, why does it matter?"

  It made all the difference in the world. To me, at least. But maybe to her, it really didn’t matter. Could I live with that disparity? When I didn't answer, she went on, dropping a cool hand to the back of my neck, leaving it there.

  "I can't even leave my house anymore," she said. "I can't have a relationship without it being put under a magnifying glass. I can't grocery shop, go to a restaurant. My life is not my own. And you know what? That's okay. That's the deal I made. And as annoying as it is to live my life like a hermit, afraid to take a wrong step or give someone the wrong idea, I get paid pretty well for it. Maybe that's ridiculous, but that's how it is. Money is the one thing I do have. And if I can use it to make your life easier, to help the people you love, then why wouldn't I do that?"

  I let my head roll back and forth, stretching the muscles of my neck under her hand. She would never understand.

  "Jace, let me help."

  "I don't have a choice," I muttered, my shame beginning to morph into something closer to
anger. I stood, her hand falling from my neck as I turned to face her. "I have to accept your help, no matter how small it makes me feel, because I don't have any other choices."

  She stared at me, her shock at my angry tone written in the wide eyes, the little round O of her mouth. "You're angry that I helped?"

  "No," I said, rubbing my neck and pacing away from her. "How could I be angry at that? I'm grateful. But ... really, when you offered, what choice did I have?"

  "You could have said no," she whispered. I could feel her eyes on me as I paced back and forth next to the bed.

  “I think I did.”

  “And I didn’t listen. But I couldn’t let you say no, not really. Did you really mean it?”

  Those words stopped me. "No, that’s the point. Don't you get that? Saying no would have killed my brother. Maybe my mom too."

  "So why are you angry?"

  "Because it's made everything impossible between you and me," I told her.

  She shook her head, the light hair sliding around her shoulders. I had a sudden vision of myself wrapping all that long hair around my fist, pushing her to her knees and her mouth taking me, me thrusting into her, spurting out all the venom and anger I felt at the world, the universe, in a hot rush of release.

  "I can't even look you in the eyes now," I admitted, stopping myself pacing. "I'm supposed to be the one to help them. To save them. But I couldn't do anything, and here you were with all your money, so willing and sweet."

  She made a scoffing noise of disbelief. "You're angry because I was willing and able to help."

  "I'm angry that I needed you to." The words came out hard and cold. “I’m not angry because you helped. I’m angry that I couldn’t. That I couldn’t save them, I didn’t have the resources. Without you … well, my family would be in a terrible situation.”