Jack-T left, but his laughter stayed in Zeke’s head long after the door swung shut. By trumping the meal with a massive tip, Hunter had thrown down a gauntlet. Zeke could absorb the insult, but if Hunter caused real trouble for Julia or Max, Zeke would be at her side with swords drawn, tasers hot, and shields up.
With his jaw tight, he headed to his office, sat at his desk, and woke up his computer. There were twenty-six emails, including one from Ginger. He opened it first.
Met a friend of yours today. Hunter Adams. He knows of a potential buyer for CS. Be prepared for a possible VIP visit from Hunter and Maury Applegate. I expect to hear from Hunter re: the exact date early next week. I know how you feel about this, Zeke. But I’m sure you’ll be thorough, fair, and professional.
Zeke’s pulse jackhammered in his veins. He needed a plan. Calling Julia was out of the question, because there was a chance she was at the Travers mansion preparing for the dessert tasting. He’d see her tonight, but he’d have to wait to speak with her.
Shifting to Plan B, he Googled Maury Applegate. Hundreds of links rolled onto the screen, each with phrases like commercial property investment and redevelopment guru. There were also titles like president, CEO, and Chairman of the Board. All that plus pictures of him at big-name charity events.
Zeke drew back, launched out of the chair, and strode to the window overlooking the hills. His vision narrowed to a distant oak, and for a moment he couldn’t force air into his lungs. It was ridiculous, even appalling, to think he could lose Caliente Springs so easily. His jaw tightened until his teeth ached. He didn’t want to go to war with anyone, but when an enemy showed up in the camp, a dedicated leader stood up to him.
Determined to be that kind of man, Zeke returned to his desk and read news stories and posts about Maury Applegate until it was time for the dessert tasting.
He went home first, changed into casual clothes, then drove to the Travers house, determined to keep a professional air. A rental car and Ellen’s Camry sat in the driveway, but there was no sign of Julia’s Outback. If she’d ridden with her mom, Zeke would have a good reason to drive her home.
He rapped twice on the door. George opened it but stepped out to the deck. “We need to talk.”
“Hunter Adams?”
“That’s the guy.” George closed the door behind him. “You must have read Ginger’s email.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Have a seat.” George indicated the swing at the far end of the deck, out of sight from the front windows and shaded by the elongated eaves.
Zeke leaned against the railing, his hands braced at his sides and one foot tapping.
George sat on the swing, rocking gently while the chains creaked. “So did you Google Maury Applegate like I did?”
“For an hour straight.”
“He looks like the real deal.”
“I think so too.” Zeke pictured the short man with a round belly, a fringe of white hair, and a goatee. “You should know something else. Hunter, Julia, and I knew each other back in college. There’s some history here. It could be awkward if I let it, but I won’t.”
George’s eyes narrowed. “Ellen told me the whole story. She’s not fond of Hunter.”
“Yeah, neither am I.” Less now than ever before. “So what do we do?”
“Talk to Julia. See what she knows about this Applegate character, and then be ready for a showdown.”
“I will. But I hope it doesn’t happen. Hunter’s a piece of work.”
George grunted. “I’m going to meet him tomorrow.”
“How?”
“Church. He’s taking Julia and Max. They’re meeting Ellen and me at Hilldale for the nine-thirty service.”
Zeke gaped him. “Hunter in church? You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
Either Hunter had turned over a new leaf, or he was even more deceitful than Zeke thought. If he was sincere, the situation could change 180 degrees. Julia might even feel obligated to give Hunter a second chance. Zeke’s stomach burned at the thought, but it was possible, and even desirable, considering Max.
George cleared his throat. “Why don’t you come along tomorrow? Give Hunter something to think about.”
Zeke opened his mouth to say, Sure, why not. But the words stuck in his throat. “No, thanks.”
“It’s your choice,” George said, backing down as usual. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
They had this conversation about church often, and it always ended the same way. George let the subject drop. Zeke, however, continued to think about that promise to his dad that he’d go back to church. But he couldn’t keep his word without feeling like a hypocrite, and he refused to put on a mask even for one day, not even to glean information about Hunter and Maury Applegate.
He followed George into the house and down a hall that led to a living room straight out of an old Bonanza episode. A leather sofa faced a rock fireplace, a wagon wheel lamp hung from the ceiling, and watercolors of wild mustangs added adventure to the white plaster walls. Off to the side was a den with a flat-screen TV, sound equipment, and a collection of Travers Twins memorabilia. George called the den his personal lair.
The women were crowded together on the sofa, looking at a computer tablet and cracking jokes. They didn’t hear Zeke and George enter, but Derek approached with the look of a man who needed to talk about football instead of flowers. Derek’s father, an older version of his son, joined them.
Derek offered his hand to Zeke. “Thanks for making the wedding happen so fast. Tiff and I owe you.”
“Julia’s the one to thank.” Zeke raised his voice so she could hear the compliment.
“Don’t believe him,” she told Derek. “Zeke’s the powerhouse around here.”
He didn’t feel that way with Hunter and Maury breathing down his neck, but he bantered easily until Ginger clapped her hands for attention.
“Who’s ready for dessert?” she asked.
“I am.” Derek looped an arm around Tiff and hugged her.
“Me too.” George abandoned the men, joined Ellen, and helped her with her crutches.
Derek’s parents paired off, and they all followed Ginger into the dining room, leaving Zeke and Julia alone.
He crossed the room in four long strides. If all they could manage was a whisper, he’d take it. “Jules—”
“Zeke, I’m so sorry. Ginger told me about the email.”
The guilt in her eyes cut him to the core. Only the awareness of the others kept him from taking her into his arms. “It’s not your fault.”
“But—”
“We’ll talk tonight.”
She nodded furiously, then glanced into the dining room where Ginger was peering at them through the wide doorway.
Zeke gave Ginger a nod, then turned back to Jules as if they had been conducting everyday business and not trading secrets. “Let’s check out those desserts before George gets to them.”
She gave him a grateful look, and they joined the others around a table covered with tarts, truffles, pastries, macaroons, and chocolates. For the next hour, they all enjoyed the samples while Julia made notes. When the tasting was finished, she assembled the group in the living room to announce the selections.
“With approval from Tiff and Derek, the dessert buffet will include chocolate truffles, both white and dark chocolate; raspberry tarts; rainbow petit fours; and old-fashioned chocolate chip cookies.”
Derek and Tiff traded a kiss, and the gathering migrated to the living room. After a round of hugs, Derek’s parents left with their son and future daughter-in-law.
George hooked a thumb toward his den. “Anyone up for a movie? Ellen and I are going to watch an oldie with John Wayne.”
When Zeke, Julia, and Ginger all made excuses, Ellen nervously tried to talk them into staying. The twinkle in George’s eyes hinted at why. A movie night was closer to dinner at IHOP than a romantic date, but it was close enough to paint a blush on Ellen’s cheeks.
Zeke leaned close to Julia. “Your mom would love to be rescued, but we need to talk. Can I drive you home?”
“Definitely.” She cleared her throat. “Mom? Zeke just offered me a ride. Can you drive the Camry, or should I—”
George opened his mouth, probably to say he’d take Ellen home, but Ellen cut in. “I’ll be fine. It’s my left ankle, and the cottage is just down the street.”
Zeke glanced at George, who looked even more pleased than before. He liked a challenge, and Ellen was giving it to him. Zeke said good-bye to Ginger next, fully aware of the hard stare that cut through him and straight to Julia. If Ginger thought his relationships with Julia and Hunter would interfere with his job, she could relax. Zeke intended to play fair even if Hunter didn’t.
Ellen focused on Ginger. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? We could out-vote George and watch a chick flick.”
Ginger gave George a look that said, You owe me, then pretended to stifle a yawn. “It’s been a long day. You two enjoy yourselves.”
Zeke palmed his car keys and turned to Julia. “Are you ready?”
She hugged Ellen good-bye, said something Zeke couldn’t hear, then picked up her portfolio and hurried out the door.
nineteen
Julia made a beeline for Zeke’s SUV, her portfolio heavy on her shoulder and her thoughts racing.
Zeke caught up to her halfway down the driveway, opened the passenger door for her, then climbed into the driver’s side and backed out to the street. “Considering how much this place loves gossip, I’d rather not have my car in your driveway on a Saturday night. Let’s go to my house.”
“That sounds good.” Her lungs were about to burst with the need to unburden herself. “I’m so sorry about Hunter. I led him here. I even introduced him to Ginger.”
“Forget it.”
“But—”
She started to argue, but he surprised her by pulling to the side of the road and cupping her face with his hand.
“I don’t care about him, Jules. I really don’t.”
“But—”
“I do care about you.” His warm fingers trailed down her face, releasing her. “He’s Max’s dad, and he came to see his son. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty about any of this, okay?”
She tried to nod but couldn’t.
“No guilt,” he repeated. “None.”
“But—” She choked up.
Zeke’s mouth lifted into the hint of a grin. “Let’s leave the ‘buts’ to Ladybug.”
Julia didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or groan, so she did all three.
Zeke gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, put the vehicle in gear, and pulled back onto the road. “I don’t want to dwell on Hunter, but I’d like to know how he and Ginger teamed up.”
She told him about the conversation in the lobby, including Hunter’s smirk in the elevator. “I didn’t hear about Maury’s possible visit until I arrived at the house and Ginger thanked me for introducing her to Hunter. It was awful. He made it sound like we were still together, but I set her straight.”
Zeke drove slowly, his eyes on the road as they passed the sign for Golden Point. So much still needed to be done for Tiff’s wedding, and now Hunter was a distraction. “So tell me about Applegate.”
“He and Hunter’s father are old friends. Hunter even calls him Uncle Maury.” So had she during the engagement. “I hate to say this, but he’s a nice man. I liked him a lot.”
“So he’s not a total shark.”
“No.”
“What do you know about his business?”
“He started in the nineties by flipping houses. Houses turned into apartment buildings, and single buildings turned into entire blocks. Most of the areas were on the verge of becoming slums. Maury would buy the buildings, level them, and put in new units from scratch.”
“Apartments?”
“And condos.”
Zeke turned onto the street that led to his house. “Caliente Springs doesn’t fit that model, but the redevelopment angle makes me worry.”
Julia tried to think like Maury. “Do you think he’d put in an outlet mall?”
“I doubt it. We’re too far from the 101, and I don’t think he’d buy a golf course just to bulldoze it.”
“Maybe I can find out more tomorrow.” She hated what she needed to tell Zeke next. “Hunter’s going to church with us.”
“George told me.” His jaw tightened, but his voice stayed level. “So is he a Christian now?”
“I don’t know, but he asked to go with Max and me. If he’s sincere, I’m glad. We’re meeting my mom and George at Hilldale Community.”
Zeke let out a slow breath. “I know the church.”
“Do you go there too?”
“No.”
That was all he said, but they were approaching what had to be his house, a large, tile-roofed bungalow that matched the hotel architecture. It was at the end of a cul-de-sac, both part of the resort and an oasis for a hardworking general manager.
Zeke pushed the remote on the visor, and the garage door lumbered up. “Let’s finish this inside.”
Julia started to say yes, but her eyes caught on a wall of cardboard boxes inside the garage. “What are those?”
“Boxes.”
She started to make a joke about his obvious answer, but the grim set of his jaw stopped her. Instead she climbed out of the SUV and followed him into the garage, where the cartons were numbered in someone’s precise writing but stacked out of order. Off to the side were two boxes that didn’t match. They were both labeled Berkeley in Zeke’s sloppy printing.
Curious, she turned to him. “Are those what I think they are?”
If Zeke had been thinking ahead, he would have taken Julia through the front door. But this was the way he always came into the house, and he’d been distracted by their conversation. The way she was looking at the boxes labeled Berkeley hit him in the solar plexus.
She glanced up at him, her eyes bright and full of mischief. “Can we look?”
He hesitated. When he packed those two boxes, he’d been feeling sentimental. “It’s just stuff.”
“But it’s your stuff.”
She could have said our stuff, because that was what most of it was. She didn’t know that, but Zeke did. He was already fighting old feelings for her. Attraction. That longing just to be with her. The irresistible pull of his eyes to wherever she was. The Berkeley box was a powder keg of memories. But was it Pandora’s box or the gateway back to his lost faith?
He wouldn’t know unless he took a chance. “This’ll be interesting.”
He set one of the cartons on the workbench, slit the tape with his pocketknife, and lifted the lid. The smell of vanilla from a half-burned candle wafted out of the box and knocked him into the past. He and Jules had burned that candle together, and on one night in particular. That night. When their gazes met, he knew she was remembering too. The air between them thickened into a jarring silence.
Hoping to erase the awkwardness, he reached into the box and lifted out a manila envelope he knew would change the subject.
“Here,” he said. “Open it, but be careful.”
She peeked inside, broke into a smile, and slid out a farewell card from the kids he used to play basketball with. It was made of black construction paper and decorated with a pound of glitter.
Julia laughed. “Glitter Man to the rescue!”
Wayward sparkles of silver and gold flew between them. When one landed on her cheek, Zeke tried to wipe it away with his thumb.
“You have some too.” She reached up to dab it from his chin but stopped with her hand an inch shy of his jaw. Something akin to shock filled her eyes, but her hand didn’t move.
Zeke reached up and snagged her fingers in his, brought them to his lips, and kissed them. His voice came out rough. “We were good together, weren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“We still are.” Feeling a little steadier, he let
go of her hand.
The old guilt for sleeping with her hammered at him. So did resentment, because the harder he had tried to resist temptation, the more profoundly he had failed. Why, God? Why did you make it so impossible?
Zeke loathed himself for failing, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d fail again. Not physically. He fully understood and respected the boundaries of Julia’s faith. The danger lay in the cry of his heart to love her again.
Alone with her, he faced up to the truth that had started on the beach. Without a faith of his own, he wasn’t the man she needed or deserved. To be that man, he needed to find his way back to God. But how? What did he do or say when the last thing he wanted to do was hit his knees?
Zeke didn’t know, but one thing was certain. If he didn’t stay behind those lines in the sand, they’d both get hurt, especially Jules.
He took a small step back. “Sorry. I got distracted there.”
“Me too.” Her cheeks were as pink as her lips. “We need to stay focused on the wedding and the mess with Hunter.”
“Especially the wedding.” Zeke jammed his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here.”
“You’d manage.”
“I don’t know how.”
In less than a week, she had sent out five hundred invitations, fielded more than four hundred RSVPs, set up Tiff and Derek’s website, arranged the food tastings, scouted ceremony sites, searched for a photographer, consulted with the hotel florist, and worked with the facilities department on the reception. There were also plans in the works for a classy rehearsal dinner at the Travers mansion with a menu to put Wolfgang Puck to shame. And she had moved heaven and earth to obtain five hundred customized votive candles for wedding favors.
Zeke couldn’t begin to count the hours she’d spent on the phone with Tiff and Ginger. And then there was the time spent on the Carter proposal, screening his endless phone calls, and just being part of the busy, friendly CS team.
He eyed the glitter still on her cheek. “I may be Glitter Man, but when it comes to getting things done, you’re Wonder Woman.” She even looked a little like Lynda Carter but younger, shorter, and a lot less 1975.
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