Foolish Games (An Out of Bounds Novel)

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Foolish Games (An Out of Bounds Novel) Page 28

by Solheim, Tracy


  Will tried not to cringe. Apparently, even the duplicitous sister of a con-man senator wasn’t good enough for a boy from the Seaside Vista Trailer Park.

  “She was out of her mind, selling her business to pay his medical bills. Too proud to ask for help. So yes, I called her every day because I was worried about her and Owen. I was full of guilt for pushing her down a path she might not have otherwise chosen.”

  “You’ve made the point quite clear that I’m not the first choice either of you would have made.”

  The senator snorted. “Yeah, well, I was wrong. Very wrong.”

  The breath in Will’s lungs began to seize up again.

  The senator pinched the bridge of his nose. “Apparently, she was blissfully happy being married to you. Until I screwed it up.”

  Will’s body went rigid, his heart slowing to a near-stop as he contemplated the senator’s words.

  “I should have guessed that she was in love with you by the way she so vehemently defended you that day on the phone. She never intended to tell me your secret, but it was out before she could stop it. You have to know she had no inkling of anyone in the Senate investigating you. It would never be on Julianne’s radar.”

  He let the senator’s words sink in. Julianne had been telling the truth. She hadn’t told her brother on purpose. And Will hadn’t believed her.

  “She’s let me know in no uncertain terms how she feels about you since then, though.” He sat down lethargically in the chair Roscoe had occupied earlier. “Not to mention how she feels about me. Definitely not the same feelings, in case you were wondering.” His smile was rueful. “So please, don’t blame her for my actions. I was simply playing big brother. I saw an opportunity to get her out of the marriage before the agreed-upon time frame, and I exercised it. She would never believe this, but I would use anything at my disposal to make her happy. Even if it meant making an enemy out of you.”

  Will was stunned. He was afraid to move a muscle in case this was all some sort of dream. First he’d been exonerated from Bountygate. Now he was hit with the truth about Julianne: She did love him. And she hadn’t sold him out. His heartbeat was more rapid now and his body burned to take action. He only hoped it wasn’t too late. Unfortunately, the senator was in a mood to commiserate.

  “The truth is I don’t know my sister as well as a brother should. Julianne’s mother, Daria, was my father’s second wife. My dad never really loved my own mother. Theirs was one of those society marriages, the kind good for a diplomat’s career.” He looked at Will as if he expected him to agree. “Dad worshipped Daria, though. When she died, he was devastated. He couldn’t bear to look at Julianne anymore because every time he did, he saw Daria. Our father didn’t care that the poor girl had just lost her mother; he sent her off to boarding school almost immediately. I was in the States, in law school with a life of my own by then.”

  The senator dragged his fingers through his hair. “She grew up without anyone to protect and guide her. I’m a father myself now and I now know how lonely Julianne’s life must have been. I let her down. I guess I just thought . . .” He shook his head in disgust, not bothering to finish his thought, before standing to face Will. “Anyway, for what’s it’s worth, I apologize. To both of you, for all the trouble this has caused. Please, tell her I was only doing what I thought was best for her and Owen. It may have been misguided, but it was out of love.”

  Will shifted to his full height, amazed his body could still move. He felt like he’d taken a pounding from an entire offensive line.

  “I’m sure she’d rather hear it from you.” Will had his own groveling to do.

  “She hasn’t returned a text or phone call.” The senator shoved his hands into his pockets, a melancholy expression on his face. “The only message she left was to tell me she never wanted to see me or anyone with the last name Marchione again. She even refused the money from our grandmother’s trust she’d asked me to secure for her.”

  “Then what did she use to finance her new company?”

  “You knew about that? She gave me the impression that was supposed to be a surprise.”

  Chagrined, Will shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Her plan hadn’t been a preemptive strike, after all, but a well-thought-out business proposal. “It was a surprise,” he admitted. “Julianne released the details to the public today.”

  Her brother was caught off guard also. “Did she, now? I must have missed it with all the hullabaloo in there,” he said, gesturing to the hearing room. He rubbed the back of his neck contemplatively. “Julianne has a lot of wealthy friends whom she could have asked for financing, but she’s careful about combining her business with her friendships. There are only two other people she trusts, who she’d turn to in order to help her out of a jam: Carly or Nicky. Your guess is as good as mine as to which one.”

  The senator held out his hand to Will. “I understand if you can’t forgive me, but I do appreciate you listening.”

  Will was still for a moment, staring at the outstretched hand of the man who’d tried to ruin not only his career, but his one chance at happiness with the woman he knew he couldn’t live without. He hesitated before finally shaking the senator’s hand. Trust was a perilous thing, Will was learning. Something he needed to give as well as receive.

  • • •

  “Nicky,” Julianne crooned as she buried her face in the priest’s neck. His arms wrapped around her in a familiar embrace she always found to be comforting. She’d been on pins and needles all morning, worried about how the hearing was going for Will. ESPN was televising it live, but she and Carly had decided against watching it. Nicky’s arrival provided a welcome diversion.

  And yet things were so different now. For most of her life, she’d had a crush on the man holding her close. But in a moment of absolute clarity, she realized that what she thought had been love was nothing more than genuine affection and admiration. Not the deep soul-wrenching love she felt for Will. No man in Julianne’s life had ever measured up to Nicky. Until Will. In a way, her epiphany was freeing, but it also made her sad. If Nicky were to be suddenly gone from her life, she’d miss him, but she’d survive. Julianne wasn’t sure how she’d survive if Will refused to forgive her.

  “I told you that you didn’t have to come,” she said. “You could have just wired the money after you found a buyer.”

  “The Vatican has diplomatic business here in Washington. I was able to combine business and pleasure this trip.” He pulled away from her, holding her at arm’s length. “You look marginally better. Still not as happy as I would like to see you.”

  Julianne forced a bright smile onto her face. It was the least she could do for her oldest friend. He was doing her a huge favor, after all.

  Carly entered the spacious screen porch of the house Sebastian had rented. “Owen is sound asleep.” She placed the monitor on the rattan table and took a seat. “I want to go on the record as saying that I think it’s a terrible idea to sell your mother’s paintings, Julianne. They are all you have left of her. If you don’t want me to invest, than at least let me loan the money to you.”

  “Actually, the paintings have already been sold.” Nicky wrung his hands as he looked between both women.

  “They have?” Julianne had trouble controlling her emotions. She needed the money their sale would generate, but she thought she’d have a little more time to adjust to the loss of her mother’s heirlooms. Carly was right, the paintings were the last link to her mother, and Julianne suddenly felt a little sick to her stomach at the thought of never admiring them again, and of Owen never seeing them. “Will they go to a private collector?” she managed to choke out.

  “Yes, but he’s allowed for them to be displayed indefinitely at a small gallery in Milan.”

  Hope burned in her chest once more. “So Owen might be able to see them when he grows up?”

  Nicky look
ed sheepish. “Actually, he’ll be able to do more than that. The paintings now belong to Owen.”

  “What?” Julianne leaned forward in her chair. “Owen doesn’t have any money, Nicky. Who bought those paintings?” She glanced sharply at Carly, figuring it would be just like her friend to find a covert way to lend her the money, but Carly’s face showed as much bewilderment as Julianne felt. She shrugged her shoulders at Julianne’s questioning glare.

  “They were bought by the person who gifted you the paintings in the first place.” Nicky reached out to take her hands between his. “Your father.”

  Shock reverberated through Julianne’s body as Carly released a surprised gasp.

  “I don’t understand.” And really, she didn’t. Her father had barely been able to look at her much less speak to her since the accident that took her mother from them so many years ago. He’d washed his hands of any reminders of her mother—both her artwork and Julianne—immediately after the funeral and moved on with his life. The scars left from his rejection still stung. Will’s rebuff had stirred up all the insecurities her father’s banishment had caused, and Nicky’s words weren’t helping. Julianne was suddenly light-headed and unable to manage coherent speech.

  Nicky gently squeezed her hands as Carly left her chair to kneel at Julianne’s feet.

  “Breathe,” Carly prodded. Julianne’s chest squeezed and tears pooled in her eyes as her body ached for the feel of Will’s big hand comforting her, admonishing her to breathe. How could this be happening?

  “Why? My father doesn’t care about my mother’s paintings,” she managed to sputter out. “Or me.”

  “That’s not true,” Nicky said.

  Anger pulsed through Julianne, rapid and hot. She yanked her hands out of Nicky’s as if her skin was burned by his betrayal. “Don’t you dare take his side!”

  “I’m not taking his side.” Nicky reached for her hands again, but Carly had gathered them up in her own, throwing a menacing glare at the priest. He pressed on anyway. “You know I disagree with how your father treated you. But grief is a weighty emotion. It does things to people. Changes them. Believe me, in my profession you see what type of damage grief can do, how it can destroy a person. Or, worse, a relationship.”

  Julianne choked back a sob. Her father had rejected her. Now Will had, too. Was she destined to be rejected by everyone she loved?

  “I’m not defending his behavior, Julianne. Just explaining it. He was wrong to push you away. But I refuse to believe he did it out of hatred. At least not hatred toward you.”

  “Of course he did,” Julianne cried. “He blames me for the accident and he hates me for it!”

  Carly wrapped an arm around Julianne’s shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “Shh, it’s all right.”

  “The accident wasn’t your fault, Julianne. If anything, your father blames himself for it, for demanding that your mother return home before she wanted to and for using you to make sure she did.”

  Julianne’s head was swimming. Her memories of that night and the days preceding it had always been a jumble. The doctors and counselors told her it was better that way; it was the brain’s way of protecting her. The little snippets she did recall never made sense. But Nicky had been with them. It was time he filled in the blanks.

  “Tell me,” she demanded.

  Nicky sighed. “There really isn’t much to tell. Nothing sordid or dramatic. Your mother wanted to stay at the villa a few days longer than she’d planned so she could finish a painting. My parents weren’t returning to Rome for another week, so I didn’t mind. Plus, there were some teenagers in the villa next door who’d I’d been hanging out with. You were a little annoyed that I wasn’t paying attention to you and your father used that to his advantage. He never could stand to be apart from Daria for too long. I think he bribed you with a kitten if you’d beg your mother to go back to Rome.”

  Julianne almost smiled at the memory. Once, her father had been a doting parent, but he’d slipped away just as quickly as her mother had slid into the Mediterranean Sea.

  “Daria finally gave in. Neither of your parents could refuse you anything.” Nicky pierced her with his gaze but Julianne refused to feel guilty for being loved by her parents at one point in her life.

  “The weather wasn’t cooperating, though, and I tried to persuade your mom to pull over and wait out the storm, but by that time, she was just as eager to see your father. When she wasn’t wrapped up creating her art, she was just as lovesick as he was.” The corners of his mouth turned up in a slow grin.

  Julianne wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted that kind of relationship. And she wanted it with Will.

  “The rest of that night was fate, Julianne. It was nobody’s fault. Not yours. Not your mother’s. Not your father’s.” Nicky’s tone was unyielding. “You can’t continue to blame yourself. Your father doesn’t blame you.”

  “I still don’t know how you can be so certain. Or why you involved my father in the first place.”

  “Because as Carly said, the paintings are all you have left of your mother. They should remain in the family. For you and for Owen.” Nicky’s voice softened. “It’s not that your father doesn’t want them—or you. He just didn’t know how to get past his grief. Perhaps this is his way of making amends.”

  A tear slipped from Julianne’s eyes. She didn’t dare hope that her father would ever be a part of her life again. That ship had sailed long ago. But she would do anything for her son’s sake. Hadn’t that had been her mantra since discovering she was pregnant? She could take her father’s guilt money and rebuild her company. Then she would figure out how to get Will back because that was one ship she wasn’t going to let sail away.

  “My mother would be delighted that her grandson owned her paintings,” she said through her tears.

  “That settles it,” Carly said as she wiped her eyes. “You’re taking your father’s money whether you like it or not. The paintings stay in the family for Owen.”

  “What happened to the reserved, well-mannered girl who used to be your best friend?” Nicky asked Julianne, a teasing glint in his eye.

  “She married the devil of the NFL and now he’s gotten her with child. You might want to stick around in case we need an exorcism.”

  • • •

  Will sat in his car, his hands firmly gripping the wheel. He was sawing ragged breaths in and out in hopes of getting some control over his bruised heart. The senator said Julianne hadn’t snitched on Will. That she loved him. He’d raced over to the house she was staying in to have the talk they should have had weeks ago. Before the sex messed things up. To work on cultivating that seed of trust before everything was ruined for good. To salvage a marriage that she’d only agreed to for the sake of their son.

  When no one had answered the door, he’d walked around the back of the house. Staring into the screened porch, he’d seen her with her friends, locked in an embrace. There are only two people she trusts, the senator had said.

  These past months, Julianne had been forced down a path not of her own choosing. Starting with the night in Sea Island when he’d taken her to his bed. The consequences of that night were just as much his fault as they were hers. He could no longer blame her for trying to shield him from those consequences by keeping Owen a secret.

  Julianne didn’t need a bastard from the Seaside Vista Trailer Park to complete her. She had her talent and her friends—who she’d turn to in a jam. Friends she obviously trusted more than him, not that he could blame her. If Will loved her, and he did, he couldn’t stand in her way any longer. She wouldn’t keep Owen from him. And Will wouldn’t trap her in a marriage she never wanted. Sure, she’d said she loved him, but he knew she’d say and do anything to protect her son.

  He forced his hand to turn the key in the ignition and drove away.

  Twenty-nine

  “Julianne! Julianne!�
� Annabeth clamored through the house shouting.

  Julianne, Carly, and Nicky rushed into the kitchen to find her gasping, tears running down her face.

  “Annabeth, where have you been?” Julianne raced toward her mother-in-law, panicked by her distress. “I’ve been trying to call you since I got here yesterday.”

  Carly pulled out a chair and Annabeth sat down, her face a mixture of smiles and tears.

  “Well, we’ve been trying to call the two of you for the past hour,” Annabeth said.

  Carly grabbed her purse off the table and pulled out her cell phone. “Ohmigosh! She’s right. Shane, too.” She yelped as she read the text message on the screen. “It’s over, Jules. The hearing never took place!”

  Julianne looked from her friend to her mother-in-law. “Is this true? Will didn’t have to testify?”

  Annabeth shook her head as her smile beamed. “Nope. He wasn’t even named by Coach Zevalos as one of the offenders. Will is totally cleared.”

  Shaking with relief and joy, Julianne retrieved her own cell phone, desperately hoping for a message from Will. Her body sagged as she scanned the screen and saw only missed calls from Annabeth.

  “Give him time,” Annabeth whispered as she came up beside her, draping an arm over her shoulder. “He needs to process everything first.”

  Leaning a head on the older woman’s shoulder, Julianne pushed out a breath. She’d never been a very patient person, and giving Will time was killing her. Hopefully, though, when Will processed everything, he’d see she hadn’t meant to hurt him.

  “You did something to make this happen, didn’t you?” Julianne asked.

  “Nothing that I shouldn’t have done years ago,” Annabeth confessed. “But the less you know the better.”

  Julianne smiled at her. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

  “The rest of it is going to work out, too,” she reassured Julianne. “You’ll see.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question, though. Where have you been?”

 

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