Answers For Julie (Book Nine In the Bodyguards of L.A. County Series)

by Cate Beauman

  Chase paused with the cup at his lips, replaying Julie’s last sentence as Meadow ran off.

  Julie chuckled, shaking her head. “She’s a little shy, but she warms up easily enough.”

  He couldn’t get past “go ask your mom and dad.” “Meadow isn’t yours?”

  Julie frowned. “No. She’s Bryce and Mindy’s.”

  “Auntie Jules, Mommy says I can!” Meadow came running back with a huge smile on her face. “Mommy says I can,” she repeated breathlessly.

  “Well, then let’s go.” She looked at Chase. “Excuse me. My prize student is eager for her treat.” She walked off, hand in hand with Bryce and Mindy’s daughter. Not Julie’s.

  He looked across the flames, staring at Meadow’s parents cozied up by the fire. Julie and Bryce weren’t married. His gaze flew back to Julie as she crouched down next to her student, helping her blow on her hot chocolate. Jules wasn’t married.

  Disbelief dissolved into a deep sense of relief. Savoring the stunning realization, his stomach muscles unclenched as he watched Julie unleash one of her amazing grins. She hadn’t gotten herself hitched; she hadn’t born another man’s child. All this time he’d thought… What the hell was he doing? He stood rigid, gripping his cup tighter. Just what in the hell was he thinking? He might’ve learned a few new facts tonight. Julie might not have a ring on her finger, but absolutely nothing had changed.

  Shocked by his reaction, he tossed his mostly full cup in the trash and made his way toward his truck, trying to think of anything but Julie Keller.

  “Hey, man,” Billy sidled up next to him. “I was—”

  He stopped abruptly, turning to face his friend. “Jules and Bryce.”

  Billy frowned. “What about them?”

  “What happened between them?”

  Billy’s eyebrow winged up. “When?”

  Billy could be dense. “Their engagement. What happened with that?”

  “Their engagement?” Billy laughed. “Jesus, man, I totally forgot. That was like a century ago. They called the whole thing off after her skating competition thing went to shit.”

  He nodded and walked off.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I forgot something.” But he had no intention of sticking around. He closed his door, started the engine, and looked at the woman he’d left behind. For ten years, he loathed her for choosing another man. She’d been here all along—single—and he’d never known.

  Julie stood, looking around, maybe for him.

  “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.” He put the vehicle in first and pulled out of his spot. He and Julie wouldn’t be talking anymore tonight.

  Chapter Five

  Julie punched her last deduction into the calculator, pressed enter, and winced. “That can’t be right,” she muttered, clearing the screen and trying again. The same digits popped up for the second time and she sighed, jotting her final balance down in her checkbook. She tossed her pen to the tiny desk tucked in the corner of her small living room and sat back, trying her best to ignore the sense of dread that consumed her every month when she settled her debts.

  Once again the bills were paid and Leila’s part-time salary was ready for direct deposit; unfortunately, there was very little left over to live on. If her bottom line remained as dismal in December as it had over the last six months, she would have to start dipping into her savings to pay her assistant. She’d already cut Leila back five hours a week. If she did so again, she wouldn’t have any help at all.

  Resting her cheek in her hand, she picked up her competitor’s festive two-page flyer and stared at The Spa of Bakersfield’s half-off coupon for a haircut and style and the customer’s choice of a mani or pedi with the purchase of a Swedish massage—the kiss of death for her December profits. OM Studio offered its own monthly specials, but no matter what she tried, it didn’t seem to be enough. Bakersfield was growing. The north side of town was expanding with new homes and businesses, including the full-service spa that was slowly stealing her clients. She couldn’t compete with their package deals. She offered several massage options, but she didn’t have estheticians and hair stylists on her payroll.

  When she opened up shop eight years ago, she’d been crazy busy. Yoga and massage in one place had been a huge hit. She’d offered upscale services in a relaxing atmosphere that had allowed her friends and neighbors to stay right here in town instead of having to travel down to Spokane for a class or an afternoon of indulgence. Over the last few months, she'd slowly cut her massage services back from four days a week to two, supplementing with extra yoga sessions. She had her loyal customers, but they weren’t enough to keep the massage end of her business afloat. After The Spa of Bakersfield opened in late March, yoga had quickly become her bread and butter, but even that was in jeopardy with talk of a new studio opening a few miles from here.

  At this rate, she would be lucky if OM Studio survived another year. “Wrong attitude,” she scolded herself as she shoved the pretty advertisement deep in the trash. She turned off the gooseneck lamp and stood, trying to muster up an iota of enthusiasm for her usual Monday-night plans. It was tempting to forget the whole thing, but maybe getting out of the house for a slice of veggie pizza and catching a flick at the old theater on Half-Price Monday was just what she needed. Sitting here moping about her situation wasn’t going to change anything. She wouldn’t be finding any solutions to her problems in this mood anyway.

  Deciding a little company with her meal might be nice after all, she walked to her bedroom, grabbed the ten-dollar bill off her nightstand, the “mad money” she set aside for herself each week from her skating lesson profits, and peeked at herself in the dresser mirror. She added a touch of berry blitz gloss to her lips for a hint of color and glanced toward Chase’s old bedroom window, a habit she broke long ago, noting that the room beyond was dark. She hadn’t seen him since the bonfire two nights ago. She’d turned around after helping Meadow with her hot chocolate and realized he was gone.

  They’d had a moment. For a couple of minutes, she and Chase had actually pulled off a semi-normal conversation—a good start, but they had a long way to go. The air was hardly clear between them, and maybe it never would be, but she had to try. She’d debated whether she should just knock on Nana’s door and demand they talk, but he’d been busy. Chase certainly wasn’t wasting any time on repairs. On Sunday, Nana’s old appliances had been hauled away. Today doors and windows had been replaced.

  Chase might have his hands full with upgrades, but he was going to have to carve out a few minutes for her, whether he wanted to or not. For ten years, she’d hoped for an opportunity like this—to mend broken fences. Maybe a time or two she’d even dreamt of them reconnecting, but in reality Chase was only interested in leaving. Still, that didn’t mean they couldn’t find their way back to some sort of friendship. They’d been friends—best friends—long before they’d become lovers.

  She rubbed her lips together one last time, comfortable with her plan of action: Sometime this week she would stop by Nana’s and try her best to work things out with Chase, but tonight was just for her.

  Leaving on her bedside lamp, she walked into the hall and paused outside the living room, looking toward the box of knickknacks and the window where she usually set up her Christmas tree. That needed to be taken care of too. Usually her tree was decorated by now, and the friendly snowmen and Santas she treasured were placed around the house, but this year didn’t feel like Christmas. The joy and excitement of her favorite holiday remained stubbornly absent. For the last several years, she and Nana had shopped or baked on the Sundays leading up to the big day, but Nana was gone and Chase was back in town and nothing felt quite the same.

  Turning, she went downstairs, grabbed her jacket, and pulled on her hat. Perhaps her slice of pizza and the new action flick on tonight’s agenda would bring back a little holiday cheer.

  ~~~~

  Chase took the stairs in twos, craving a shower after one he
ll of a productive day. The kitchen was ready for the appliance delivery tomorrow, and thanks to Billy pitching in for a few hours this afternoon, the final planks of flooring had been laid in the living room. After a couple of late nights replacing lighting fixtures and painting walls, the place was starting to come together. It looked pretty damn great. The bathrooms were next on the to-do list—and that wasn’t going to be pretty—but if he could get those finished up by next week, the bedrooms would go fast and he would be ready to head back home earlier than expected.

  Stepping into his room, he collected a fresh pair of clothes and stopped by the window when he caught sight of Jules walking down the street in the glow of the streetlight. He hadn’t seen much of her since Saturday—just quick glimpses of her in her studio when he was grabbing supplies from his truck. He glanced at his watch, slightly curious about where she was going at seven fifteen on a Monday night. It was none of his business, but still he wondered.

  He’d been doing a lot of wondering about Julie since the bonfire. She’d been on his mind constantly. He was still trying to get over the fact that Jules wasn’t Mrs. Bryce Marshfield. For a decade, she’d been single—or at least not married, and he wanted to know why. More than once it had been on the tip of his tongue to ask Billy, but then he would have been admitting to himself and his friend that he cared more than he should.

  It annoyed him that over the past couple of days he’d paid a little more attention to her schedule. Perhaps he noticed that she worked a lot and didn’t seem to have male company other than her yoga clients, all of who left right after class.

  Shaking his head, he steamed out a frustrated breath. Julie’s personal life was none of his concern. He and Jules were nothing to each other anymore. They hadn’t been friends for a long, long time. They’d gone their own ways. So why was he standing here watching her? And how was it possible that even after all of these years, he could tell something was bothering her by the way she walked slowly with her head down?

  For the briefest of seconds, he considered throwing on his coat and catching up to her. “What the hell’s your problem, Rider?” he mumbled to himself. Ten years ago, he would have run after her and asked her why she seemed so sad and lonely, but that wasn’t the way things were anymore. He had his own stuff to worry about.

  Turning away, he took a step toward the bathroom and stopped, looking at the box full of items he set aside for her, stuff Nana would probably want her to have and a few other things he hadn’t been able to throw away. Tomorrow he would stop over and give them to her. They would more than likely have some sort of brief, uncomfortable exchange, but then he would be able to get back to focusing on his job here in Bakersfield and hopefully leave Julie in the past where she belonged.

  Chapter Six

  Chase hunched his shoulders against a nasty gust of wind as he walked next door to Julie’s. The temperature was dropping by the minute, snow was falling in sheets, and the forecasters were calling for whiteout conditions, but now was as good a time as any to get this over with. The storm had come in out of nowhere. Not even an hour ago, there had been light flurries. Now there was a good three or four inches already piled up on the ground. He watched the last car pull away from the curb by OM Studio and quickened his pace, taking the four steps to the entrance in twos. He twisted the doorknob as a cute redhead, bundled up in a white jacket, pulled the door open from the inside.

  “Oh. Good afternoon,” she said with a smile. “We’re closing for the day. I’m just locking up.”

  “I have some stuff for Jules.” He gestured to the box in his arm. “I’m Chase. Her neighbor,” he tried again when she didn’t move out of his way.

  She beamed. “Nana’s grandson.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t recognize you with your beard.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen pictures of you in Nana’s living room. I’m Leila, Jules’ assistant. I took Nana to church on Wednesdays. Jules had class during the time Nana liked to go to service, so I picked her up and dropped her off.”

  “I appreciate you helping Nana out.”

  “We sure do miss her.” A monster gust blew a wash of snow in their faces, and Leila squealed. “That’s my cue to leave. I’m going to head out. How about you come in?”

  “Thanks.” He stepped through the door into the warmth, and Leila locked up behind him. He wiped his feet on the heavy-duty rug as he glanced around the cozy space that used to be Gram’s sewing room. Decorative pots full of bamboo sat next to small mission-style tables with fat cream-colored candles placed on top. Water trickled and pooled in the fancy waterfall element mounted on the pale green wall. He gave a nod of approval, taking in the high-end bamboo flooring and old walk-in closet transformed into an efficient cubby space where students could leave their coats and shoes. Leila’s desk sat tucked in the corner under hanging shelves holding orchids in various pink hues and fancy bath salts for sale. Julie’s place looked great.

  Hearing a noise, he wandered closer to the thick beige curtain partitioning the receptionist’s area from the studio and stared as Julie rolled up her mat, wearing tiny black shorts and a white exercise bra, showing off every magnificent inch of her compact body. “Jules?”

  She looked up, her eyes widening with surprise as they locked on his. “Chase.”

  God, she was beautiful with her hair piled on top of her head and her face unframed like that. “Hey.”

  She stood, and her golden skin, damp with sweat, glistened in the light. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” He moved farther into the room. “I brought over some stuff I thought you might want—some pictures of you and Nana and some other things.”

  “The baton.” Snagging her towel, she walked to where he stood and grabbed the old toy from the box, smiling as she gave it a twirl. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “This is so exciting—a blast from the past.” Her smile widened as she stood on her tiptoes, peering over the edge of the cardboard. “What else is in here?”

  “Mostly junk,” he said, wanting to step back as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo and trailed his gaze down her graceful neck.

  She plucked out the Usher tickets from their first official date, and hurt filled her eyes as they met his. “I’ll, uh, I’ll have to look through this.” She took the box from him and set it down.

  “Whatever you don’t want, just toss it away.”

  She nodded, blotting at her temples with the towel.

  Silence choked the room, and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Can I get you something to drink? I have water or milk. Maybe some juice.”

  “No. Thanks. In fact, I should probably get back. I want to get some stuff done before we lose power.”

  She glanced toward the massive windows. “It’s really coming down out there.”

  “It is.”

  “So how are things going with the house?”

  “They’re good.”

  “I saw Bryce’s delivery guys bringing by new appliances yesterday.”

  “The place looks a little different. You should come see.”

  Her eyebrows winged up as she looked down at herself. “It’s a little chilly.”

  He smiled. “After you get dressed.” He unzipped his jacket. “Christ, it’s hot in here.”

  “They do call it hot yoga. One hundred and five degrees.”

  He winced. “Do people pass out?”

  She grinned. “No. Everyone loves the class. Staying hydrated is key. You should join a session—come try it.”

  He grimaced. “I don’t think anyone wants to see me in spandex—myself included.”

  She laughed. “You don’t have to wear spandex to practice yoga. Shorts and a t-shirt will do.”

  “I think I’ll stick to running and lifting.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  He looked around. “So this place looks different too. Nice.”

  “Thanks. The renovations were compl
eted a couple months after Gram died. She never got a chance to see everything finished.”

  “I’m sorry.” And he was, for not even knowing exactly when she passed.

  “I like to think she would’ve been proud.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “I do massages in there on Tuesdays and Thursdays.” She pointed to a closed door where the dining room used to be.

  He raised his brow. “Massages too?”

  “It kind of rounds things out nicely.”

  “Skating, yoga, massage. What else do you have going on around here?”

  She smiled. “That’s about it.”

  “With a setup like this, you’d make a killing in LA.”

  She wiped the towel across her stomach, catching drops of perspiration. “Nana mentioned you were in Los Angeles.”

  “For a few months now.”

  “I imagine—” Julie’s phone rang, interrupting her. “I should probably get that with classes canceled tonight.”

  “I need to head back anyway. Come on over and check things out sometime.”

  “I will.”

  “See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  He closed the door behind him, letting his shoulders relax as he followed his tracks back toward Nana’s. That wasn’t so bad—not too awkward and nothing too deep. If conversations with Jules were going to be like that, he could handle one more if she actually stopped by to check out the renovations.

  His phone rang in his pocket as he reached the front door. Grabbing it, he looked at the readout and frowned. “This is Rider.”

  “Hey, Chase. It’s Ethan.”

  He stomped his feet and walked inside. “What’s up?”

  “I’m in a jam. Tyson and a couple of the other guys are down with the flu. I could really use you back here for tomorrow night. You know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t completely fucked.”

  He wiped his boots on the interior rug and took off his jacket. “Yeah, no. Of course you wouldn’t.”