For Joy's Sake

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For Joy's Sake Page 9

by Tara Taylor Quinn


  Yes, he was having a wonderful effect on Joy. Yes, he had a gift when it came to putting people at ease.

  But he also had the ability to hide his real feelings. To convince others he was anything he wanted them to see.

  And that she couldn’t abide. Because you never knew what lurked beneath that surface. You couldn’t know. Couldn’t see if there were demons, waiting to pounce.

  Between the salad and the main course, while Colin was busy speaking with the man on his left, a wealthy client of his law firm, Chantel, Julie and Hunter spoke about Joy. As a Santa Raquel detective, Chantel was familiar with the case.

  “As you know, I have no experience with children,” Hunter told them both, and yet Julie felt as though he was only aware of her.

  How did he do that? David Smyth Jr. had the same talent. For a time, Julie had basked in the feeling that she was the only girl he noticed.

  “Walking by her, observing an art class, okay, but now with us taking her to breakfast tomorrow... We’re all going to be sitting at a table, looking at each other...” Hunter was still talking.

  Sara had called Julie earlier, after a meeting with Edward and Hunter, and asked if she’d be willing to join a group taking Joy to breakfast the next morning. At a place in Joy’s old neighborhood, close to LA. A place neighbors had said her mom, Cara, used to take her sometimes. A place that would be familiar to her. More easing into the process of introducing Edward as family to the little girl. But it was also a move designed to help break through to her, in the hope of finding out what she did or didn’t know about her mother’s disappearance.

  Sara wasn’t going to be present this time. But Lila would be there.

  And a couple of police officers would be close by. Just in case. No one was going to put Joy’s life at risk. But if her father was in the vicinity, if he was watching for her, and saw her, maybe he’d make a mistake. Make himself known.

  Tomorrow’s breakfast was why she was at tonight’s fund-raiser, she reminded herself. Because Hunter needed to talk about Joy. The fact that he was also a charmer was irrelevant.

  “Just be yourself, Hunter. She likes you,” Julie told him, even as she doubted that she, or anyone, would ever know his true self. People like Hunter, the charmers, the fun guys, they seemed to live two lives—the one on the surface, and a different one underneath.

  “I have no idea how you talk to a child,” he said now. “I’m guessing golf scores aren’t going to do it. And probably not surfing, either.” His chuckle made her smile. Which sent warning notes through her. She was not going to soften toward this man.

  Some man. Someday. Sure. If she was attracted to one she felt she could trust.

  But not this man. Not a charmer.

  “You talk to her like she’s a person but with limited experiences,” Julie said. “I remember back to when I was a kid, and pull from that.”

  His attention, fully on her now, warmed her all up again.

  She was there to help him for Joy’s sake. She had to get it done.

  And get out.

  * * *

  SO, CLEARLY, HE wanted more than just one dinner with Julie. His words to Brett Ackerman about “just one” had been erroneous. One wasn’t going to be nearly enough.

  Really, he didn’t know why he was bothering with his pursuit of this woman.

  She was infuriating in her guardedness. He wasn’t Bigfoot. Or the Abominable Snowman.

  And yet, the very second their dinner plates were cleared, he knew she wouldn’t be staying for the evening’s roast. She’d been looking over at the door for a good fifteen minutes. And he knew she wasn’t expecting anyone. She’d picked up her purse earlier to get a contact out of her phone for her brother, and had left the purse in her lap.

  “I ordered six desserts for you,” he told her, deliberately trying to keep her there a bit longer. And feeling no shame whatsoever for doing so.

  After his failed attempt to take her hand, he’d been very careful not to touch her. Some people didn’t like casual touching. He got that.

  She leaned over to tell him quietly, but firmly, “I am not going to eat six desserts,”

  “Six bites. That’s all. Six bites. Doesn’t even equal a full dessert.”

  He leaned in, too. Almost brushed his nose against her ear. Felt her shiver. And had his very first glimmer of hope where she was concerned.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, she’d just responded to him. Sexually.

  Not since his first year in business had he been concerned about his clients being pleased with whatever food he brought in for them. He knew his stuff, and he had a top-notch list of caterers who were always happy and eager to give him whatever he asked for.

  Julie’s nod gave him a respite before her imminent departure.

  Who knew a mere whisper by her ear was his ticket in?

  He’d barely had a chance to celebrate his good fortune when the desserts were placed in front of them. But before he could make some clever comment about the chocolate on her fork, his attention was summoned. Kyle, tonight’s event manager and his most trusted employee, needed him. They had a problem. The—until that moment, unknown—mistress of the man being roasted had just shown up at the door. With a few quick confirming nods, letting his next-in-command know that his plans to handle the situation were spot-on, Hunter sent Kyle to deal with it.

  By the time he turned around, Julie was gone.

  * * *

  SHE MADE IT out to the valet stand at the private-event venue on the ocean, just outside Santa Raquel. Intending to order a cab and text her brother and Chantel once she was gone, so they couldn’t decide to leave early and take her home themselves, she hadn’t yet spoken to anyone when Hunter suddenly appeared.

  “I don’t get it.” His first words were so startling, she forgot for a second that she was on the run. Back to her studio. To her comfort zone.

  To the place she needed to be so she could spend her days giving all her energy to other people and to the causes that benefited the most. To her personal work. Her books. She had one due in a couple of weeks, and because of the extra time she was spending with Joy, she was behind.

  “Don’t get what?” There was no chill in the air, but she shivered anyway and gathered her light wrap around her mostly bare shoulders. How much longer was the valet going to be talking to the older gentleman with the Continental? Couldn’t he see he had a customer waiting?

  “What is it about me that you find so reprehensible?” He could have sounded angry. He didn’t. He almost seemed to be teasing her. Almost.

  “I don’t find you reprehensible.”

  “As soon as my back was turned, you walked out.”

  She would’ve left anyway, but his...interruption had made it easier. She hadn’t had to deal with him.

  “It sounded as though you were going to be involved for a while. And you’re working tonight. I understood that from the beginning.”

  She’d liked that part of the plan. It couldn’t be even halfway considered a sort of date if he was working.

  “My staff’s handling tonight’s event. I was there to put the icing on the cake. So to speak.”

  “And yet, when there was a situation, they came right to you.” That actually impressed her, the fact that he had people who relied on him.

  The valet turned, saw Hunter talking to her and continued his conversation with Mr. Continental.

  “What are you doing standing here anyway?” he asked, his hands in his pockets now.

  She could’ve asked the same thing. The roast had to be starting. And he was outside with her.

  She didn’t ask, though. She didn’t want to hear his answer.

  “Getting a cab.” She told him the truth.

  “A cab? You came with your brother.” He glanced toward the door that l
ed to the ballroom holding their event. “Do you need me to speak with him for you? Are you feeling sick?”

  “No.” She might have smiled. If she’d been her seventeen-year-old self. Now she calmly said, “If you speak to him, he and Chantel will be out here calling for their car. They’ll miss the rest of their evening out. Colin not only enjoys a good roast, he has a lot of clients here tonight—and potential clients, as well. He needs to stay.”

  Pulling keys out of his pocket, Hunter said, “Then I’ll take you home.”

  She wasn’t going to ride alone in his car in the dark with him. She just wasn’t.

  Not because of some fear for her physical safety. Ironically, at the moment, that wasn’t even an issue. He was far more of a threat to her emotional equilibrium than her physical safety.

  “You’re working,” she reminded him, taking the obvious way out. And she was going home to work, too. Not that she’d tell him that.

  Because his inevitable question would be to ask what kind of work she was doing at nine o’clock on a Saturday night.

  And her books were her secret. Hers and Chantel’s and Colin’s. And Sara’s and Lila’s. And now, Joy’s and probably her housemates’.

  “I don’t have to be here. And it’ll only take half an hour to get you home and return... I’ll be back before the roast is over.”

  Other than the tension that was building in her, Julie had been feeling fine. But a headache was coming on. She couldn’t let it. She wouldn’t get enough work done if she was hit with a migraine.

  Hers were caused by tension. Which Hunter was creating. Inadvertently, but still...

  “Was it the desserts?” he asked next. “Because I guilted you into tasting all six of them?”

  “I didn’t taste all six of them,” she told him. “Colin and Chantel did. Both of them. All six. I trust their judgment.”

  What on earth was she doing? Flirting with him?

  Of course not!

  But what if he thought she was?

  The headache he was giving her had dissipated for the moment. She took a step toward the valet, whose back was to her so he didn’t notice.

  “Have dinner with me sometime.” Hunter hadn’t moved, so he was one step behind her.

  “We just had dinner.”

  “I mean some other time. Right now, let me take you home.”

  “I’d rather get a cab.” She’d never met a man who took a hint worse than he did.

  Well, yes, she had. And that was part of the problem. More than ten years ago, she’d fallen for a man who not only didn’t take a hint, but wouldn’t take no for an answer. And she had ended up forever changed.

  She’d just never met a man who attracted her so strongly even when her mind told her to get away from him.

  Usually her mind and emotions went hand in hand. They were in complete agreement, always gave her the same message. With David Smyth, they’d both told her to grab hold and never let go. And with every man since, the message had been the complete opposite. Get away.

  “But you don’t want me to go get your brother.”

  “No. I’d stay here at the event first.”

  “Okay then, stay.” Well, she’d walked into that one.

  “I don’t want to stay.” Now she sounded petulant.

  “Why not?”

  “Because...I don’t like crowds.” True enough. But not the real reason she needed to go.

  “Ahh...so that’s why you left so early?”

  Okay. If it pleased him to think so.

  Julie might’ve felt bad, misleading him, if she wasn’t so absolutely certain that there was nothing wrong with protecting herself. Keeping her secrets to herself.

  She didn’t like crowds. But she hadn’t left the event because of them.

  “So, let’s sit,” he said. “Over there. On the benches.” She told herself not to look.

  She did anyway. There were four benches. They were surrounded by flowering shrubs. Subtle landscape lighting completed the decor. But the best part was the view. The benches faced the ocean.

  Of course, at night, there’d be no view.

  “If you sit with me for a few minutes, I won’t tell your brother you’re leaving before you have a chance to get away. If you insist on calling a cab, I’m going to get him right now. According to you, that’ll take him away from his clients, since he’ll insist on taking you home himself.”

  Julie actually found herself calculating her chances of having a cab called and arriving in the time it would take Hunter to bring Colin out. When she pictured herself falling into the cab and slamming the door just as Hunter came running back outside, her brother at his heels, she almost smiled. As if she’d really run amok to that extent! Trying to race him...

  She suppressed her smile and turned to him instead. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you doing this? Pursuing me like this? I’ve made it perfectly obvious that I’m not interested.”

  The suddenly serious expression on his face etched itself in her mind. “I don’t know,” he said.

  She couldn’t tell if he was charming her. Or being genuine.

  It felt...unlike him. So, genuine?

  “There’s something about you. It’s like you’re a witch and you’ve cast a spell on me and if I could only have dinner with you, the spell would be broken.”

  Probably one of the least charming things a man had ever said to her.

  “Your goal is to break the spell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then I don’t have to keep asking you out and getting turned down.”

  The boyishly pleading look on his face had her almost smiling again. Pretty sure now that he wasn’t being serious at all, she was surprised to find that she’d lost her immediate need to run.

  “Okay, I’ll sit with you. But only to break the spell. Since we’ve already had dinner.” She hadn’t talked nonsense in...far too many years. She felt awkward.

  But she followed him to the bench.

  And prayed she wasn’t making another big mistake.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HUNTER COULD HARDLY believe that Julie Fairbanks had just agreed to be alone with him. As he led her to the bench, he half expected whatever spell she had over him to dissipate by the time they got there. She’d finally said yes. A few minutes to talk to her. To figure out what it was about her that attracted him. So he could distance himself. Walk away.

  Just like he always did.

  He waited for her to sit—she chose the bench closest to the building—and then, remembering how many times she’d avoided his touch, sat on the other end. There was enough room for a third person to sit between them.

  For a rich woman, she didn’t wear a lot of jewelry. A single gold chain with an angel charm on the end. Gold and diamond studs in her ears. In triplicate.

  Odd, he’d never noticed before that she had three piercings in each ear. He liked that hint of the less traditional in a woman so clearly conservative.

  She was fiddling with the onyx and diamond ring on her right hand. And then, when she caught him looking at her hands, they suddenly stilled.

  “So this is it? Just sitting here on a bench is the spell-breaker?” she asked. She might appear timid, but she had enough fight in her to win her battles. That much he knew.

  “I’m not sure,” he told her. “Maybe if you told me a little bit about yourself, that would do the trick. Other than the things I already know. Take away the mystery.”

  “Like what?” She was gazing out toward the ocean. He could see a couple of lights in the far distance. A commercial ship? Military?

  “You told Joy you don’t have any grandparents. And it’s just you and Colin and now Chantel at home.
Where are your parents?”

  What was he doing? He didn’t need to know those things to get her out of his system.

  “Mom died of hepatitis when I was fifteen. Dad of a heart attack when I was sixteen. Colin was in law school, and it’s just been him and me and Louisa, our housekeeper, ever since.”

  “What happened to your grandparents?”

  “Mom’s parents divorced when she was young. I only ever knew her mother, who died of an overdose in Hollywood when I was little. I never knew Dad’s mother. She was gone before I was born, but I have vague memories of his dad. My grandfather built the house we live in. He started Fairbanks and Fairbanks, as well.”

  The lucrative law firm her brother now ran.

  “He was killed in a car accident when I was two.”

  She wasn’t helping him get rid of the spell. As a matter of fact, the damned thing didn’t seem to be fading at all. Time to change tactics.

  “Why won’t you go out with me?”

  “We’re back to that again?”

  “Just tell me why. Maybe that’ll end this.” He knew Brett was wrong; this wasn’t simply about her saying no. As if he was a guy who couldn’t accept a turndown. He wasn’t. And could. All he needed to know was why this particular woman kept turning him down.

  “Well, then, that’s easy,” she said. Her tone was calm. Congenial. Businesslike. And yet...she was still looking out at the ocean. As though...there was something she wasn’t saying. “It has nothing to do with you. Like I’ve told you a number of times, I don’t date.”

  He stared. Started to make a joke. And then stared some more. “At all? You don’t date at all?” Yeah, she had told him that, but... The woman was drop-dead gorgeous. Smart. Caring. Intriguing. And...rich. Not that he gave a hoot about her money. He had more than enough to keep him happy. And not enough to weigh him down. But her money would mean some less ethical guys might want to exploit her. Was that it? She was afraid of being used for her money?

  “That’s right. I don’t date at all.”

  “As in never?”

  “For now.” And there it was. That hint of intrigue. Maybe that was all this was. She sent out mixed messages. And he was picking up on them.

 

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