One night, as the end of April neared, Julia and Elliot were cuddled deeply into a plush loveseat on his porch. The night had cooled some, but it was still pleasant to sit and watch the water lap the shore and hear the ducks calling into the night.
She’d started to wonder why Elliot had never pushed her to have the conversation about her father being a famous musician. She was glad he hadn’t pushed because she wasn’t sure what she would have told him a few weeks ago. It had taken her some time to reflect on the situation to even begin to scratch the surface on why she hadn’t told him. She was no therapist, though Cathy had her own opinions on the subject. It was hard to take a step back and look at the things you do and figure out why you do them. She’d really had to look at every angle of that decision to figure out her initial motive and come to terms with it.
She broke the long-standing silence and told Elliot what she’d finally figured out. “I didn’t tell you about my father being famous because it makes me feel like a loser.”
“A loser?” Elliot stilled, beer halfway to his lips. “Why would it make you feel like a loser?”
“Because he’s so cool.” She shrugged. “And I’m—” She took a deep breath. “Well, I’m not.”
In classic Elliot fashion, he took his time digesting her answer. Not judging her right away, whether he felt like she was wrong or right.
“Have you always felt like that?” he asked after a while.
“I didn’t even know he was my father until I was a teenager. By then I was such a freak that it didn’t take much to make me feel worse. And compared to him? He’s larger than life.”
“Yeah, but you’re a genius,” he reasoned. “That’s really intimidating. I bet he feels like an idiot when he’s with you.”
“Maybe,” Julia answered, considering the possibilities.
“You aren’t a loser, Julia, and you aren’t a freak,” he added, pulling her closer to him. “You may not be a rock star, but you’re special in your own ways.”
One thing Julia had learned about Elliot was that he wasn’t one to use a lot of extra words, much like herself. He said what he meant, what he needed to say, and left it at that. He didn’t expound upon why he felt she was special, but she’d experienced him trying to show her many times.
Like when he’d found out about Conquer, a women’s charity she’d founded for underprivileged women trying to educate themselves. Not only was Julia their founder, but she was their biggest contributor, financially and in physical donations, as well. She donated most of her clothing to women trying to make a better life for themselves and interviewing for jobs. There were children’s charities, education charities, and medical charities she donated to, as well. When he’d found out about all the charity work she did, he’d searched her eyes thoroughly, kissed her deeply, and held her long into the night.
There was a weekend Cole had wanted to impress a girl on a date. Elliot had scoffed and told him there was no way for him to impress anyone. Julia had arranged a car for the couple and gotten them dinner reservations at the most sought after dinner club in the city. Elliot had smiled gently across his kitchen island and continued cooking, telling her simply that she was a good friend.
No one had told her that before.
It was almost as if Elliot made all the things she’d been self-conscious about her entire life, just fall away.
Julia now looked up at him in the bright spring moonlight. “You’re special too, Elliot,” she told him softly.
“You think so?” he asked with a smile.
That was the thing about Elliot, his smile wasn’t always big and sometimes it was more from his eyes than his mouth, but she saw it. She knew when his mood was light and when it wasn’t. When it wasn’t, his eyes were dark and stormy—thunderous. But right now, they were light and clear, and there was a slight lift to his mouth.
“I do,” she confirmed. “And I’m a genius so you can’t argue with me.”
“This is true,” he agreed.
“And you can’t argue with me when I tell you that I think it’s time to go inside.”
He pulled her even farther into his arms. “You cold?”
“No,” she said easily. “But I’m ready for us to get in bed.”
“Naked?”
“I hope so.”
He stood and pulled her quickly behind him.
Julia had always read the term making love and scoffed at the idea. Sex was a biological task. She couldn’t understand why anyone would bother to come up with a euphemism for something that was a human function. It wasn’t until she’d actually been to bed with Elliot a number of times that she figured it out. When they were together, making love, that’s exactly what he was doing to her. Loving her in every way he could, cherishing her without words. Certainly, they’d declared their love for each other and she didn’t think that was necessary to the equation. Yes, she cared for Elliot but she wasn’t sure that she was capable of loving another person. Love relied so heavily on trust and even though she trusted Elliot in some aspects of herself, she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to hand her heart completely to him.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.
When they were in bed together he took care of her. Not just making sure she had an orgasm or making her feel good, but he made sure she was happy and comfortable. He always took care of her needs and made that emotional connection with her every time they were together. There was always eye contact and reassurance mixed in with everything they did together, calming and supportive.
That night proved no exception when they stripped off each other’s clothes in mutual exploration, the low light from the porch casting shadows along their skin. Julia had never experienced the feel of cotton-jersey sheets before sleeping in Elliot’s bed but now she luxuriated in the feel of the fabric beneath her. She welcomed him into her arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. As usual, making love with Elliot was an intense and passionate experience. He was happy to let her take control and have her turn on top before rolling them over again, and by the time they finished, the sheets were tangled around their feet and her heart was tangled in his.
A few days later while the master closet was getting its final touches, including a crystal chandelier and a granite countertop for the dressing table/island in the center, Kelsey interrupted Julia while she browsed H-Surf for interesting investments.
“Julia!” Kelsey rapped on the desk to get her attention.
She was instantly alert at the look on her assistant’s face. “What is it?” Julia warily stood and asked.
“Your grandmother is here.”
Immediately, her palms started to sweat and her heart raced. She hadn’t seen her grandmother in years. The mere thought of her grandmother coming into her home and critiquing her sanctuary left Julia feeling not just on edge, but reluctant to let her in. She remembered her father’s words about her grandfather being sick.
“You can show her in,” Julia told her with a nod.
Kelsey look surprised at her easy permission, but ever the dutiful aide, did as she was asked. Julia looked down and wished she was wearing something nicer. Her black skinny jeans, no matter where she’d bought them, as well as her vintage, striped boat shirt, made her feel small and young. When confronting her family, Julia wanted to feel powerful and untouchable.
She heard the clack of her heeled shoes coming up the walkway and the stairs of the porch.
“Dreadful,” Julia heard her grandmother murmur.
Emily entered Julia’s sanctuary the way she might have an overflowing port-a-potty. Her lip curled in disgust as she held her hands up toward her chest, as though touching something may have transferred a disease. She was tall, thin, and glamorous, her hair perfectly salon blonde and styled to utter perfection. She was dressed in an ivory silk suit, which suddenly struck Julia as so strange.
In the last few months, Jim Williams had visited his sons at her house and each time it was a loving, yet casual experience. There were n
o pretenses about who was wearing what and there was certainly no pressure to be anything other than themselves.
“Julia.”
Julia stood rigidly behind her desk while Kelsey ran up the stairs. To hide, most likely.
“Emily,” Julia answered robotically, still caught off guard by the sudden intrusion.
Her grandmother looked around the room in repulsion. “Jonathan said you moved to the country but I wasn’t expecting it to be so rustic. Honestly, Julia, everybody who’s anybody is talking about you right now and you’re hiding out here?”
“This is my home,” Julia told her flatly, her heart pounding in her chest, beating a steady staccato of anger and anxiety. “What are you doing here?”
“You have the ability to make your home anywhere. You could live in any city, anywhere. You have the most beautiful apartment in the best city in the world. You’ll have to explain to me why you’d want to live here of all places, Julia, because I just don’t understand.” She didn’t give Julia a second to explain. “Do you have any idea how much selling the company upset your grandfather and I? They call you a recluse, Julia, did you know that? Someone asked me if you had mental problems and frankly, I didn’t know how to answer them. You had the opportunity to make something more out of that company and you let someone else take the reins. Your grandfather even tried to help by taking over but you blocked him there too.”
Julia stared across the desk, not surprised at any of the accusations Emily hurled her way. Over the course of many years, she had become used to that kind of berating.
Emily took her granddaughter’s silence as a cue to continue. “Your grandfather is concerned about you. We heard from Sam Walters that you had some kind of nervous breakdown and we think you might need serious help. I’ve come to ask you to come with me so we can take you to see Dr. Peters.”
Dr. Peters? They wanted to take her to see a child psychologist? She was twenty-five years old.
“No,” Julia ground out in frustration, unable to find any other words to express how she was feeling. She’d had a day a while back that had really stressed her out. Honestly, she’d had about a year’s worth of bad days that had led to a very messy, very ugly, and very public anxiety attack.
Not a nervous breakdown, just an anxiety attack.
Her grandmother was staring at her, eyebrows raised, looking expectant. Julia wasn’t sure what Emily was expecting, possibly an apology or explanation, but she wasn’t going to get it.
“I heard grandfather was sick.”
“I came here to discuss you and your illness, nothing more and certainly nothing less.”
“I don’t have an illness,” Julia defended.
“That is not what I heard. I can see, just by looking at you, that the rumors are true. You’ve stopped eating and you’re depressed. I can see it. And we all know what happens when you get depressed, Julia.”
Julia clenched her hands into fists to stop the shaking. The irony was that her phobia of being poisoned came directly from the Louziers. The added inference to her long-ago suicide attempt was a cheap shot, nothing more, a low blow that her grandmother would use to her advantage if she could.
“I’m not sick. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m not seeing your therapist. If you have nothing else to say to me you’re free to leave.”
Her heart was racing and a knot had formed in her throat. What had she ever done wrong?
There would be no figuring it out in the moment. That moment was to be dedicated to getting her grandmother out of her house before the woman saw her cry. Julia would never allow her to see that weakness in her.
“Do you really think we’re going to let you drag our good name down with you while you make a fool of yourself?” Emily stepped closer to Julia’s desk and hissed at her in a low voice. “I will not let that happen. I have worked too hard, for too long, to let you bring us down now. If I have to lock you away, I will. So help me, Julia, I will have you committed and throw away the key if you think—”
“That’s enough.” Elliot’s firm voice came from directly behind her mother. “It’s time you leave, ma’am.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed in Julia’s direction before she spun to face Elliot. Julia couldn’t see her face, but she could imagine the look she was sending Elliot’s way and knew it was full of haughty disgust.
“And you are?” She sniffed.
“I work for Ms. Hawkins,” Elliot explained. Technically, it was true and Elliot didn’t give any further clarification, like the fact that he was her contractor or that he was basically her boyfriend.
“And you think you have the authority to ask me to leave?” Emily’s arrogant laugh grated Julia’s nerves.
She was so thankful Elliot had come down and called a halt to her grandmother’s tirade, but she never wanted him to see the weak side of her. The little girl that still couldn’t find her way out of her family’s line of hateful fire. There were so many things that Julia had managed to conquer in her life, yet her grandmother still made her body tremble with fear and anxiety. Even now, she stood behind the protection of her desk, quivering with the need to flee, holding back what felt like a waterfall of tears.
“I do.” Elliot nodded, not an ounce of fear or intimidation in his gaze. “And I’ll ask you one more time before I physically remove you myself. It’s time for you to show yourself out.” He pointedly held his arm out toward the front door and when she didn’t move he growled menacingly, “Last chance, lady.”
Emily took one last look at Julia and without saying a word, turned on her heel and stalked out of the house. Elliot didn’t look at Julia until they both heard her grandmother’s car drive away and when he turned to face her then, his pewter eyes were watchful, penetrating the gossamer barrier of protection she had left.
She wondered how much of her shame he could see, how close to the surface it was. Her throat clogged with emotion, humiliation, and embarrassment.
“Julia,” Elliot murmured gently.
Not knowing what to say or how to be brazen about the disgusting display her grandmother had just put on, Julia fled down the hall and shut herself in the downstairs bathroom. Breathing hard, still trying to hold back a flood of tears with her palms, she pressed her back to the wooden door and slid down to the floor.
She was a success. She knew that, she really and truly did. She thought about the things that her grandmother had said to her and wondered when she would ever be enough for them, when her accomplishments would finally mean something in their eyes. She’d just sold a company for eleven billion dollars.
Billion.
Not to mention the fortune she’d earned from the site in the past few years. She was worth roughly twenty-four billion dollars and still, they wanted more from her.
There was a gentle knock on the door.
“Julia.” It was Elliot, speaking quietly, his voice muffled as he talked through the door. “Let me in.”
She didn’t answer, just tried to take a deep breath and force the emotions to pass.
“Please,” he urged.
Let him in? Didn’t he see what happened when she let people in? They got to witness the ugliest side of her life. They got to see what a sniveling weakling she really was.
“Don’t let her do this to you, Julia.” Elliot’s voice came through the door again, gruff and firm. “Don’t let her tear you down.”
But she was right about some of it, wasn’t she? Julia thought as those ridiculous tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. There was something wrong with her. People weren’t afraid to eat. They just weren’t. She knew that her fear had taken over too much of her life and that she needed help; she just didn’t know how to get it. When there were people in her life so willing to see her as weak, she didn’t know how to take control and help herself.
But she also knew not everyone in her life felt that way about her. She knew that Kelsey, Tucker, Cole, and especially Elliot were on her side.
“Let me in, baby.” Elliot’s q
uiet plea confirmed her thought.
She turned the knob behind her and scooted to the side, letting Elliot in. He entered and found her sitting on the floor. Closing the door behind him, he lowered himself to sit across from her and for a few seconds they just looked at each other. She counted a few gray hairs on his head, mixed in with the black, and wondered idly if eventually his hair would all be gray.
“I hate your grandmother,” he told her plainly.
She took a deep breath and was inclined to agree even if she didn’t say it aloud.
“I’ll never be enough for them,” Julia said quietly, admitting something aloud that she’d only ever done to herself.
As she’d come to expect, Elliot made things easier for her, quietly considerate of the things she confided in him. “Why do you still want to be enough for them?” he asked. “Aren’t you happy with you?”
Julia took a moment to consider his question and knew he was right. She was, for the most part, happy with herself. She’d studied hard and in turn worked hard. She’d made money and had been extremely successful. She just didn’t know how to explain to him that even though she knew that he was right, her need to be accepted by her family was cripplingly strong.
“I am,” she told him. “I just…” She shrugged and looked away, wiping another tear that leaked out.
Elliot scooted just close enough to grab her and pull her into his lap. “Don’t cry, baby,” he whispered as he kissed her hair. “Don’t let her walk into this amazing place you built and ruin it for you.”
“Place you built, you mean?”
“Technically, yes, but you found this house and saw the potential. You went out of your way to find the best contractors you could to do the work. You made the plans and made them happen. Julia, you made this place your home. You can’t let her come in here and ruin that. We all worked too hard for that.”
Elliot: The Williams Brothers Page 19