by Jackie Braun
“Well, Danielle leaves for art camp on Monday.” Julia had finally, after much emotional hand-wringing, agreed to let her daughter go. Alec had played a role in convincing her. It was different, he’d assured her, for a child to go away when they knew they would return shortly and to a home where they would be both missed and welcomed back. She was saying, “And because Colin is feeling very left out, my parents are having him come to stay with them Wednesday through the weekend. So, I’ll be on my own.”
Alec should have been pleased. They could be together, alone and uninterrupted, for four nights. Only four nights. For reasons he didn’t care to dwell on, he felt irritated. Make the most of it, he reminded himself and forced a smile into his voice. “How about coming over Wednesday evening then? I can try my hand at cooking again and, if the weather is nice, we can eat out on the roof.”
“I like that idea.”
“You can stay the night if you want. Pack a bag and you can leave for work from here in the morning.” It was an offer he didn’t often make. It seemed natural with Julia.
Still, he wasn’t surprised when she declined. “Thanks, but I’ll go home.”
Boundaries, he thought again, feeling hemmed in.
They talked about work after that, a safe subject that he suspected she chose for just that reason. She gave him an update of his week’s itinerary. He had a return spot on the first blog Julia had set up. Now that the One Big Family campaign was winding down, Julia had him hitting as many of the places he’d visited in the beginning as possible. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that his image was fully repaired, but it had recovered substantially. Julia was due the credit for that. Alec had fought her in the beginning, out of pride and pique more than anything else, but she knew what she was doing.
Best For Baby’s stock had rebounded by several points in the past month alone. These days, when the company made headlines, it was because of the new line of organic toddler food it had unveiled rather than its bachelor CEO’s unfortunate case of foot-in-mouth disease.
The board of directors was pleased, so much so that Alec no longer felt as if his professional neck were waiting under the sharp blade of an executioner’s ax. Now, however, he felt as if something else was hanging over his head, a sense of impending doom that he preferred not to think about.
Their conversation wound down. He heard Julia yawn. Her kids would be asleep, tucked into their beds just down the hall from her room. Safe. Loved. Secure in their home. He glanced around his tidy apartment. It was so quiet and empty in a way that had nothing to do with its Spartan décor.
“It’s late,” he said. “I’ll let you go.”
They said goodbye and he hung up, left with the unshakable feeling that he didn’t have enough of a hold on her to let her go.
* * *
“So, big plans with Alec this week since you’ll be kidless for four entire nights?” Eloise asked.
Her sister had stopped by Julia’s office after an appointment in the city. The two of them were at a restaurant enjoying a glass of iced tea on the cordoned-off patio as they waited for their salads to arrive.
“We’re having dinner on Wednesday. He’s going to cook for me.”
“I bet.” Eloise waggled her eyebrows. “Are you staying over at his place?”
“No. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Hmm.” Eloise sipped her tea.
“What hmm?”
“Nothing. I just thought you would since you didn’t have to hurry home. But I guess it’s not surprising that he didn’t suggest it. Single men tend to see overnight stays in their domain as tantamount to a commitment. They like the option of being the one to leave first, and you can’t do that when it’s your own place.”
“Actually, he did suggest it.” An ache formed in the back of her throat. She soothed it with a sip of tea.
“But you’d rather go home?”
“I’m trying very hard to keep things between Alec and me...simple. I think that is the best solution in the long run.”
Eloise frowned. “Why? I know you felt that way in the beginning. You wanted a little romance and adult time, and weren’t looking for strings, but, Jul.” Eloise grabbed Julia’s hand and squeezed to give her words emphasis. “Whenever his name is brought up in conversation you all but glow. Mom and Dad have noticed it, too. And I’ve got to tell you, they’re wondering why you haven’t brought him by for dinner.”
Her stomach knotted. It had been doing that a lot lately where Alec was concerned. “You know why.”
“Danielle will come around,” Eloise assured her. “For that matter, how can you expect her to soften toward Alec if she never has any interaction with him?”
It was a logical question, except that it assumed the relationship with Alec would be long-lasting. On her own, Julia might have been willing to risk placing a bet. If she lost, her heart would be the only casualty.
“Alec and I are enjoying one another as well as our time together. That’s all I want at this point.”
But Eloise was shaking her head. “It’s not all you want. It’s all you think you have a right to want. Do you love him?”
“No!” But that ache was back in her throat and she knew that no amount of cold tea would soothe it. “It wouldn’t be a good idea to fall in love with Alec.”
“So, he’s not the warm-and-fuzzy, good-with-kids executive you’ve helped convince Best For Baby consumers that he is?”
“You’re playing devil’s advocate,” Julia accused.
Eloise merely shrugged. “And you’re changing the subject.”
Touché, she thought, and answered the question.
“When he’s around children at the events I’ve booked, he does well enough. He’s still a little stiff at times, but kids respond to him.” Julia smiled and, with a shake of her head, added, “And so do their mothers.”
“But you have reservations about having him in your life.”
“He’s in my life,” Julia shot back.
Eloise wasn’t buying it. “No. You’ve allowed him into a portion of your life. The part where you are a single woman. We both know what a small slice of yourself you’re allowing him.”
Julia didn’t care for the guilt nipping at her. “He hasn’t complained.”
“And if he does?”
Would he? Did she want him to? She couldn’t answer her own questions, so she answered Eloise’s. “When and if that happens, I’ll deal with it.”
How exactly was a mystery.
* * *
Since she would be driving home later that evening anyway, Julia declined Alec’s offer to come pick her up on Wednesday. She knocked off work just after four, in part because she knew Alec would be at his office until at least five o’clock. These days, he no longer stayed past six, and he hadn’t clocked in on a weekend since their first date.
After going home to change clothes, she stopped at a market to select some produce. Alec said he would cook for her, but she planned to bring the fixings for a salad. Not much could go wrong with fresh greens.
“Hey, Hank!” she called to the guard as she crossed the lobby to the elevator just after six.
“Hi, Julia. If you’re here to see Mr. McAvoy, he’s not here yet.”
“Oh.” She shifted the bag of groceries to her other arm and glanced toward the pair of leather chairs that were angled together in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. “I’ll wait over here.”
She was leafing through an old copy of a news magazine when a woman tottered in on a pair of four-inch-high stilettos. Julia placed the woman in her late fifties, even though she was trying to look like someone in her late twenties. Her hair was long and bleached platinum-blond. Her skin was a couple of shades too tanned to look natural and it was pulled suspiciously taut over a pair of painfully prominent cheekbones. Her plumped-up lips were slicked in the shimmery pink gloss girls not much older than Danielle favored. Her trim, hourglass figure was enviable, but it still looked out of place tucked into a miniskirt and off-th
e-shoulder, peasant-style blouse. Every reality television show seemed to have one or more women on it who looked just like this one. The miniature dog she held in her arms merely finished off the cliché.
Something about the woman was familiar. Julia knew what it was as soon as she heard her ask Hank, “I’m here to see Alec McAvoy. I’ve been trying to reach him at his office, but he hasn’t returned my call. I’m desperate to speak with him. Is he in?”
Good God! It was Alec’s mother. Term loosely applied. Julia felt bile rise in her throat along with a good amount of anger. Did that woman know what she’d done? Had she any clue how much she had hurt and harmed Alec with her careless disregard? Looking at her now, it was hard to believe she had any remorse.
Hank glanced Julia’s way, but she pretended to read the magazine as emotions churned.
“Mr. McAvoy hasn’t arrived yet. I’m not sure when to expect him. I could take a message if you can’t wait,” he offered.
“Oh, that’s all right.” Over the top of the magazine, Julia saw the woman sidle closer to Hank and flash a blindingly white smile. “Maybe you could let me into his apartment to wait. I know I don’t look old enough, but I swear I’m his mother.”
Hank scratched the back of his head just below his security cap. “Sorry, but I’m not allowed to do that, ma’am.”
She shrugged. “Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to sit over there.”
She took the chair opposite Julia’s. The little dog yipped twice before growling.
“Oh, look. Valentino likes you,” Brooke McAvoy said.
Julia worked up a smile. Oh, but this was awkward. Should she introduce herself and save Alec from having to do so when he arrived? It would mean having to make polite conversation in the interim, but she decided to do it. She cleared her throat.
“I couldn’t help but overhear you say that you’re Alec’s mother.”
“That’s right. Brooke McAvoy.” She studied Julia with critical eyes. “And you are...a friend of my son’s?”
Even though the moniker didn’t quite fit, Julia
nodded. “That’s right. I’m Julia Stillwell.”
She considered offering a hand in greeting, just to be polite, but the little dog was still growling low in its throat, and Julia was afraid it might bite her.
“Do you live in the building?” Brooke asked.
“Actually, like you, I’m here waiting for Alec. We’re having dinner.”
Brooke’s gaze moved to the grocery bag, took a detour to Julia’s A-line cotton skirt and casual wedge sandals and then returned to her face. She’d been sized up and, unless she missed her guess, found lacking.
“Have you known my son very long?”
“A couple of months.”
“Really?” Brooke wrinkled her nose and her tone turned sympathetic. “I’m afraid he hasn’t mentioned you.”
Under other circumstances, such a remark might sting. Coming as it did from a woman who suffered chronic maternal apathy, it merely aroused pity. Alec had told Julia enough about his mother that she knew he didn’t confide in her.
The doors to the lobby swung open then and Alec rushed in, saving her from the chore of formulating a reply. He was wearing his usual suit-and-tie attire, and carrying a laptop in a bag that hung from his shoulder. He looked every inch the high-powered professional he was, yet he took time on this day to smile and call out a friendly greeting to Hank, something Julia doubted Alec would have done not so long ago. He’d changed so much. It occurred to her then that she had as well. Five paces from the elevator, he spied Julia and then his gaze slid to his mom. His smile evaporated. He sucked in a breath and expelled it as he crossed the lobby to where they sat. Both women rose.
“Mother.” He kissed Brooke’s cheek, but only because she tilted her head toward him in anticipation. The dog yapped as he did so and grabbed a mouthful of Alec’s tie. As he fought to free it, he said, “I thought when we spoke earlier today that I made it clear I had plans for tonight.”
“You did, and I’m not here to spoil them. But I called back several times and you were unavailable. I wanted to see if you had...reconsidered.” She glanced toward Julia before finishing.
A muscle worked in his jaw. He was angry, that much was clear. She doubted he knew that he also looked sad and sick at heart.
“Julia, would you excuse us for a moment?” He handed her his key ring. “Why don’t you go on up? I shouldn’t be long.”
“All right.” Julia smiled at Brooke. Although it had been anything but, she told her, “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. McAvoy.”
* * *
Twenty minutes passed before she heard the door open. A thud sounded—the laptop being deposited on the table in the foyer?—and then heavy footsteps on the wood floor. Julia was in Alec’s kitchen. She hadn’t spent much time in it, but she knew her way around well enough to find a pair of wineglasses and pour them both a glass of merlot. She met him in the living room, where he stood in front of the large glass window with his back ramrod-straight and his head bowed.
“Here.”
He took the glass she held out. “Thanks.”
“Everything okay?” she inquired.
He looked weary and resigned, but he nodded and took a sip. Then he set his glass aside, reached for hers and did the same. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her. They stood embracing for several minutes, neither saying a word.
When he finally drew back, Julia asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He blew out a sigh. “Do you really want to hear this?”
She nodded, then she swallowed as it occurred to her this was another kind of intimacy, the sort upon which real relationships were formed. Lovers didn’t share confidences. Couples did.
“It’s the same old story. She and my father need money.” His laugher was harsh, bitter. “They have an active social life, you know. Parties to attend and parties to host. And only the best vintages of wine and choices cuts of meat will do.”
“The trust fund,” Julia said, recalling what he’d told her about his late grandfather’s estate.
Alec nodded. “They’ve already blown through this month’s funds. Of course, this happens pretty much every month.” He added wryly, “They have champagne-and-caviar taste on a champagne-only budget.”
Which meant Alec was cast in the unenviable role of being a parent to his parents. He appeared to know what she was thinking.
“’Sometimes I think my grandfather arranged his will this way so that my parents and I would be forced to have a relationship.” Alec shook his head. “Not that you can really call what we have a relationship.”
“I’m sorry, Alec.”
Relationships were about give and take. They were about sharing more than a name or proximity. They required trust and an abiding commitment. Julia felt an unmistakable stab of guilt.
“Not much of a pedigree, is it?” Alec reached for his wine again. Before taking a sip, he added, “It’s a good thing no reporters managed to dig up too much of my background and spread it around. Even someone as skilled in remaking images as you are wouldn’t have been able to save my job then.”
“You’re not your parents, Alec.”
“No, but they made me. We’re shaped by the people around us.” He nodded in her direction. “You believe that.”
An alarm bell sounded in her head, but she said, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t let just anyone around your children. You take care to protect them from bad influences and poor examples.”
She swallowed. It wasn’t only guilt she felt now, but something suspiciously like shame that he might think she regarded him as a bad influence or poor example.
“I love my kids,” she said slowly.
“I know that you do. They’re lucky. Lucky to be loved and wanted. Lucky to have someone like you who places their welfare first.” He turned back to the window and finished off his wine. His back was no longer ramrod-straight. His shoulders were bowed, a
s if they carried the weight of the world. “I guess I’d started to hope...”
“Alec?”
He turned and all traces of vulnerability were gone, replaced with a manufactured smile. “Let’s talk about something else. I bought a couple of thick steaks for tonight.” And a gas barbecue grill, too. It’s a stainless steel beast that took two delivery men to haul in.”
Because Julia didn’t know what else to say, she let him change the subject. “I didn’t realize you knew how to grill.”
“I don’t. Well, not exactly.” He lifted his shoulders. “I watched a video on YouTube. How hard can it be?”
* * *
The steaks he made were the texture of shoe leather and they tasted about the same. Grilling wasn’t as easy as the salesman in the home improvement store made it sound or the guy in the internet video made it look, Alec decided as he cleared the table a couple hours later. Julia helped him.
She’d been quiet through most of their meal. What conversation they had amounted to small talk. Probably meeting his mother had scared her, giving her the glimpse it had of the woman who’d helped mold him and his value system. After all, Brooke tried to look like a teenager only to succeed in acting like a child: egocentric and spoiled.
“I heard from Danielle,” Julia said out of the blue.
“She arrived safe and sound at camp, I assume.”
“She did. She sounded so excited and happy. I’m glad I agreed to let her go.”
“And Colin? Have you heard from him as well?” Alec didn’t really need to ask. He knew she would have, calling him first if need be.
Sure enough, she said, “I phoned my parents right before I came here. Colin said his cousins were coming over in the morning to spend the whole day.” She rinsed their plates and stacked them on the counter next to the sink. Her brow furrowed when she added, “He said to tell you that he and his grandfather would be making cookies tomorrow. He said you would know why he was so happy about that.”
Alec grinned and at her questioning glance, shrugged. “It’s a secret.”
“Oh.” She dried her hands on the dish towel.
She looked so pretty, standing in his kitchen. So...right. And the kitchen, hell, his entire apartment, had warmed by several degrees and become more welcoming with her in it. Almost like a home. He pushed away the longing, the same way that, earlier, he had quashed his vulnerability.