“All I know is that you and Liam are the best things that have ever happened to me. My life would be so much less without you. Where love factors into that, I don’t know. Does it really need a label?”
Julianne kept her eyes on Alex, although his image wavered through the unshed tears that filled her eyes.
“No, Alex, not a label, but what I need is some assurance that I’m not going to fall in love with you and then lose you down the road one day when you meet the woman who finally wakes up your heart. Because when that happens mine will break.”
“You said that to him?” Maya asked as she poured a second round of chocolate from a small brass pot.
Julianne nodded.
“And how did he respond?” She picked up her cup and sipped, keeping eager eye contact over the rim of the cobalt-and-white demitasse.
“He said both of us knew that nothing was guaranteed.”
Maya scrunched up her pert nose. “What? What kind of an answer is that?”
“I know. I believe that he cares, but where does that leave us? He didn’t bring up the proposal again. And even if he did, I don’t know if I could accept. To me, the definition of hell is to be in a one-sided marriage.”
Maya shook her head in disagreement. “I don’t know, though. I feel you two. You belong together.”
Even though Maya claimed to have a sixth sense when it came to matchmaking, Julianne had a sneaking suspicion that a good majority of what Maya saw and felt were situations she only wished would work out.
It was amazing what the power of persuasion could do.
The door chimed and a group of five walked in.
“Ooh, customers,” Julianne said. “Let me know if I can help.”
Much to Julianne’s surprise, they were Americans. Maya greeted them and immediately started handing out samples and answering questions.
How exciting. It was the first time Julianne had seen anyone set foot inside Maya’s shop other than Alex, Liam and herself, and Alex had been there only that first day.
Liam was sound asleep in his stroller, oblivious to the hubbub in the store.
Then another family of four entered the shop, and then six more people. With fifteen customers, plus Maya and Liam in his stroller, Julianne found the space to be a bit tight. Even so, since Liam was settled, Julianne covered him with his blanket, made eye contact with the bodyguard who waited outside watching through the window, and jumped into the fray to help.
According to the customers, a tour bus had dropped them off to spend the morning. Maya said she’d never gotten a bus this early in the season. Julianne got quite a different perspective of the chocolate business going from zero to fifteen customers, but she still thought it was fun.
Julianne glanced over at Liam, who had turned over on his side, still asleep and snugly covered up.
While Julianne poured hot chocolate into proper demitasse cups for the customers at the iron tables, and filled chocolate orders, she had a fleeting thought that maybe she should wheel Liam’s stroller around behind the counter, but it was so busy and the store was so crowded that she decided he’d be fine where he was. She could see him from this angle and the bodyguard had another vantage point.
Then a man asked Julianne to make him a basket to take back to his girlfriend. “But I’m in kind of a rush,” he said. “We have to be back on the bus in fifteen minutes.”
The guy proceeded to ask about nearly every chocolate in the shop, beckoning Julianne here and there before finally scrapping the basket altogether and opting for a box of dark chocolate truffles decorated with candied violets.
As she rang up his purchase, she was both exhausted and exhilarated. She told Maya that perhaps rather than going back to the States to audition for the Wallansky Orchestra, she could help out in the shop until an opportunity opened with the St. Michel National.
As Maya stood next to her waiting her turn at the register, Julianne said, “There’s always the possibility of forming a chamber group, seeing how I still owe you an in-shop live music performance—”
A loud commotion erupted near the door.
Four Secret Service agents lunged over the tables, knocking over iron chairs in the process of getting to Liam’s stroller.
The guy who was purchasing the sugared violets threw them at Julianne and dashed for the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Julianne opened her groggy eyes and blinked as she tried to see through the dark gloom of her bedroom. It all seemed like a terrible dream, but then reality set in and the tears started rolling down her cheeks. Again.
How could she ever forgive herself? What kind of a mother—or even an aunt—or any kind of care-giver of a little boy—takes her eyes off a sleeping baby in public, even for a second?
“Julianne?” Alex’s voice sounded, soft and soothing from the dark corner of her room. She squinted and saw his silhouette as he stood up and walked toward her.
She turned her face into the pillow and sobbed.
It didn’t matter that Secret Service had been watching—well, actually, it did matter. Thank God for the St. Michel Secret Service because Liam was safe, if a little frightened at first.
It had all happened so fast—the sugared violets man had been working in tandem with a rather nondescript guy who’d been sitting at the table closest to Liam’s stroller. Neither Maya nor Julianne could remember who’d served the guy at the table the chocolate, but while Sugared Violets distracted Julianne, Hot Chocolate tried to covertly snatch Liam from his stroller, replacing him with a medium-sized teddy bear.
And while Julianne had been too distracted, giddily planning her future as a flute-playing shopgirl, two Vonisian operatives from the terrorist group that had been issuing death threats against Alex, tried to kidnap Liam.
Julianne felt Alex’s hand on her back. She wanted to pull away because she didn’t deserve comfort. But she couldn’t move—and she wasn’t sure if it was because she was nearly paralyzed by guilt or still reacting to the sedatives.
So Alex rubbed her back and she sobbed.
She’d been so high and mighty thinking Alex’s insistence on having Secret Service/bodyguards was excessive. Of course, after she’d heard about what happened to his poor mother, she thought Alex was simply shell-shocked from the trauma of losing his mother so violently when he was so young.
Julianne hadn’t reacted so extremely to the loss of all the other family members she’d loved. All of them gone. Dead. Buried. Well, not every single one. Not Liam. Thank God, not Liam.
It had been a long night, but Alex believed the worst was over. The terrorists were in custody and would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.
Julianne had been so distraught, he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone with Liam. Sophie, as gentle and kind as always, had assigned a nurse to watch over Liam, who was safe and sound asleep in his crib, while Alex sat with Julianne.
The nurse had given her a sedative to calm her down and she’d been in and out of sleep, dozing only fitfully and crying when she was awake.
Alex felt curiously calm.
Liam and Julianne were safe.
They’d made it. They hadn’t been harmed—at least not physically.
This strange calm that was enveloping Alex was almost like an endorphin high that didn’t make sense. He certainly wasn’t reveling in the fact that the two people he loved most in this world had suffered such a trauma.
The two people he loved. Yes. That was it.
He was calm and content because something in him had shifted. It was like a valve in his heart had suddenly been opened and what he was feeling was so strong and good that he didn’t ever want to stop feeling it.
It was a damn shame that it took a near-loss to make him come to his senses. He’d been given a second chance at this and this time he wasn’t going to blow it.
He kissed his sleeping beauty’s forehead and said, “I love you, Julianne.”
Her answer was the steady, rhythmic sound of sleep.
A week later, at the New Hampton, Connecticut, Performing Arts Center Julianne sat in the Green Room with the three other musicians who were her competition for the principal flute position with the Wallansky Orchestra. They’d finished the audition and had been waiting for the results for forty-five minutes.
What was taking them so long?
But really, what were a few more minutes’ wait after all she gone through to get here?
It had taken her a few days to get a hold of herself, but she’d come around. Despite how Alex and Luc had reinforced that there was nothing she could’ve done to prevent the kidnapping short of not leaving the palace—and that wasn’t practical—Julianne continued to blame herself.
If she’d only wheeled Liam back behind the counter like her gut had been telling her.
“Then who knows how it would’ve gone down?” Alex said. “The perpetrators were armed. As it happened, they did not feel threatened and did not draw their weapons. If you’d moved Liam, they might have drawn their weapons and ordered everyone to the ground.” He abruptly stopped. “Who knows what might have happened. Luckily, we’ll never know.”
But Julianne knew what real fear was. She’d continued to blame herself; and she didn’t trust.
“What if it happens again?”
“Are you afraid?” Alex had asked her.
“Not for myself, but for Liam, I am. Maybe he’s better off without me. Everyone I’ve ever loved has died tragically.”
That’s when she decided to take the audition. She’d let fate decide where she should be.
If she was good for Liam, she’d lose the audition again and go back to St. Michel.
If she won the audition…well, that meant Liam was better off with his father and family with only occasional visits from her.
She loved him and the thought of not holding him and hugging him and telling him she loved him on a daily basis tore her apart. But this was not about what was good for her. It was about Liam.
And Alex.
She loved Alex, but he couldn’t return her feelings and didn’t need her complicating his life.
That is, unless fate decided differently.
A dour-looking woman appeared in the doorway of the Green Room and all four musicians sat up straight.
She informed them that she would be calling their names in no significant order. They would each be assigned to a different room where they would report and simultaneously receive the news on whether they made it or not.
The woman called the other three names first and assigned them rooms.
“Julianne Waterford?”
“Yes?” She raised her hand in an anxious greeting even though she was the only one left.
“You may proceed to room number four.”
Maybe it was a long trip, but Alex had been determined to bring Liam to New Hampton, to be there for Julianne’s audition. Either way the audition went, she’d want her family there to support her—to cheer with her if she won the audition; or to cheer her up if she didn’t.
She’d still been shaken about the attempted kidnapping and had been talking nonsense about letting fate decide whether she stayed in St. Michel or left him and Liam to move to New Hampton.
The doctor she’d seen had suggested to Alex that she might be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, but Julianne had said she felt fine. Because she didn’t seem as if she’d be a harm to herself, the doctor gave her medical clearance to travel for the audition.
She had no idea that Alex and Liam—and a troop of Secret Service agents—had followed right behind her. What other choice did they have? When she’d physically turned and walked away from Liam to get on their plane, she and the boy had both cried. It was a traumatic scene that Alex never wanted to see repeated.
He held his son and watched her go, unable to bring himself to share his newfound feelings until the right moment.
Telling someone he loved her was no small feat for Alex Lejardin. This time, he wanted to make sure he got this one right.
He’d known then that the right time had come, so here he stood, Liam on his hip, a bouquet of red roses in one hand and his son’s diaper bag dangling from his shoulder. He drew in a deep breath as he waited, waited to hear his and Liam’s fate, which would be decided by Julianne’s audition.
An orchestra member had been gracious enough to let them in and point out the elevator from which the candidates would probably be leaving.
A woman with a flute case exited the elevator, but she wasn’t Julianne. He couldn’t read her expression to know whether she was the one they chose. She looked pretty young for the part, but what did he know?
Liam was gurgling to himself and cooing, “Dadadadada.” Alex bounced him and patted a soft, nervous cadence on his little back.
“Mama,” Liam said, pointing behind Alex.
Alex whirled around and saw a wide-eyed Julianne staring back at him.
“What—?” she stammered and ran up to them wrapping them in a bear hug that made Liam giggle. “Oh, my dear God, what on earth are you doing here?”
Alex smiled. “Liam couldn’t stand being an ocean away from his mother. And Liam’s father won’t let an ocean come between him and the woman he loves—and will always love, with his whole heart.”
Her hand fluttered to her mouth, then she leaned in and kissed Alex before she took Liam, hugged him and swung him around.
When she’d finally settled down, Alex exchanged the flowers for Liam.
“These are beautiful,” she said, sniffing the bouquet. “Thank you.”
Finally, Alex couldn’t stand the suspense any longer.
“Julianne, what’s the verdict? Did you get the position?”
They locked gazes for a moment before a slow smile spread over her face. “Yes, I did.”
Alex’s insides felt as if they’d been flash frozen. But he sucked up his distress and said, “I’m happy for you. Congratulations.” He stared at her beautiful face, hoping disappointment didn’t show in his eyes.
“I could try to work out something with iWITNESS. Perhaps we could open an office in New York. I could commute from Connecticut. That is if you want Liam and me here…with you.” He shrugged. “When do you start?”
She laughed.
“It certainly would be easier for both of us to move our headquarters to St. Michel, don’t you think? I’m a one-woman office. You have staff and all those files.”
Alex squinted at her. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “They may have offered me the position in the orchestra, but I didn’t say I accepted it.”
It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, Alex let out a whoop that startled Liam, but when Alex grabbed them into a hug and swung both of them around, Liam let loose a belly laugh that made them all laugh.
“So, why not?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer, though he couldn’t imagine what could be any worse than her living on the other side of the Atlantic.
“Are you kidding? As much as I’d love to play with the Wallansky Orchestra, there will be other orchestras. Maybe even—hopefully in time—something with the St. Michel National Orchestra. What’s most important is that right now Liam needs to be in St. Michel with his entire family. Sophie, Luc, Henri, you and me. And I can’t leave my two guys—not even for the time it would take to move the iWITNESS headquarters here.”
Her words were enough to melt him from the inside out. He dipped his head and kissed her soundly on the mouth and she kissed him back.
“I love you,” he said.
She beamed up at him. “I love you, too. Are you ready to go home?”
“Not quite,” Alex said. “Before we go back to St. Michel, we have a stop to make.”
She frowned her confusion. “Where do we need to go?”
Balancing Liam on his hip, he reached into the diaper bag and pulled out the battered Bundy flute case.
“I’ve been carting this flute around since I left Paris. I’
d like to find someone who could put it to good use. Preferably a child in Washington, D.C. Since that’s where A World of Music was founded.”
Julianne looked genuinely touched as she took the instrument from him. “Thank you. I thought about bringing it, but then I decided I’d wait and see what happened with the audition. Especially since Washington is more than three hundred miles away. I wasn’t exactly going to be in the neighborhood this time. I figured I’d deliver it when I went home to pack up my apartment.”
Alex quirked a brow.
“Well, there’s no time like the present. And my plane just happens to be stopping in D.C. I’ll help you pack. And this time I will be exchanging a flute for the opportunity to share a life with a person I love.”
As they kissed again, Liam cooed, “Love. Love. Love. Love. Mama. Dada.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-6023-2
ACCIDENTAL FATHER
Copyright © 2010 by Nancy Robards Thompson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Accidental Father Page 13