by Lane, Nina
Warren’s vision blurred. He looked away from his son, out the window to the valley stretching all the way to the sea.
“Boss,” Justin said. “We don’t want to go without you.”
“And we’re not going to let anything happen to you,” Dave said. “Just like you won’t let anything happen to us.”
“That’s what we do, right?” Rick added. “We’re Team Theo.”
Theo. He’d been planning the climb in the midst of chemo. He’d have started training the second he was released from the hospital. If he’d made it.
Warren turned his head to meet his son’s gaze. A current of understanding passed between them. He knew why Adam had always had a pull toward adventure and pushing his limits. He liked reminding himself that he was alive. That he had strength and endurance. That the world was full of challenges waiting to be met.
Warren looked at his model. He might not make it to the summit.
Then again, he just might.
Chapter
TWENTY-THREE
No, it hadn’t been the Christmas they’d all expected. Certainly it hadn’t been the Christmas Julia had planned down to the smallest detail with her Montblanc agenda and her excessive list-making.
But maybe that was okay. Not everything always had to be perfect. And maybe Whoville and the roast beast appeared in different ways for people who needed a little reminder… okay, a big reminder… of life’s important things.
On her way to the airport for her flight to New York, Julia stopped alongside a narrow road just outside of Indigo Bay. She parked and walked through a small cemetery perched on the hillside overlooking the sea. Rows of headstones sat lined up like soldiers. She stopped at her sister’s grave, her chest tightening with sorrow and love.
Rebecca Stone
Beloved mother, wife, sister
She would never forget the funeral—Warren and the boys, silent and gray, all of them watching Rebecca being lowered into the ground while, not ten miles away, Hailey lay unconscious in the hospital. Their shock and grief had been unspeakable.
Julia knelt beside the marble headstone and placed a small lantana plant at the base. In her other hand she held a red helium balloon tied with a string.
Fresh flowers—delivered and replaced every Sunday, per Warren’s lifelong order—bloomed from vases on either side of the headstone. She brushed a coating of dust off Rebecca’s name. She didn’t often come here, not needing to see her sister’s grave in order to remember her.
“I miss you,” she finally said. “I’m sorry for what happened. I’ve tried to make it up to you. I hope I succeeded. But I… I don’t know what to say about falling in love with your husband.”
Saying the words aloud was like a breeze rushing through her, both a relief and a chill.
“I don’t know when I fell in love with him,” she admitted. “I tried to keep it a secret. Even to pretend like I didn’t feel anything more than friendship for him. In fact, I told myself for a very long time that what I felt wasn’t love, not really. Of course I was lying to myself because how could any woman not love him? Even thirty years ago, I could see why you loved him so much.
“He’s so good. Honorable. Kind. Devoted. When you put your trust in him, you know he’ll never break it. You just know. But I still tried not to love him. I failed miserably, I’m sorry to say. I do love him, Rebecca. With my whole heart, my whole being. I love your children. Warren, the boys, and Hailey have given me a life beyond anything I could have imagined for myself. A life I didn’t even know I wanted.”
She rose to her feet, still holding the balloon. She wished she knew how to hold on to this life.
But maybe the point wasn’t to hold on too tightly. Maybe she also had to let go.
“Aunt Julia.”
Her heart jumped. She turned to see Hailey approaching from the crest of a hill, her slender body clad in jeans and a blue parka, her long ponytail whipped by the ocean wind.
“Hailey.” Anxiety clenched her stomach. “Are you all right?”
Her niece shrugged, coming to a stop beside her. “I don’t know. You?”
“I don’t know either.”
“Weird, considering you’re usually such a know-it-all.”
Julia managed to smile. “I’m so sorry.”
Hailey let out a breath, her gaze resting on her mother’s headstone. “I miss her.”
“So do I.”
“I think about her a lot, you know? What she’d say about my life, the things I’m doing.”
“She’d be so proud of you.”
Hailey acknowledged that with a tilt of her head. “It hasn’t always been that easy, growing up with six brothers. I love them a ton, but even when I was a kid they could be pretty smothering. Annoying. Loud. Obnoxious.”
“And they still are.”
Hailey smiled faintly. “Dad was always so awesome, like he was some sort of lion tamer keeping them all under control. It seemed like there was nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he couldn’t do. Same with Mom. And things with her and me were different, of course, being that I was the only girl. I loved her so much.”
Julia’s chest ached. “I know you did.”
“She was a tough act to follow, though.” Hailey pushed her hands deep into her pockets. “She did everything so well. There were times I thought I’d never be as perfect as she was. And after the accident…”
Her voice cracked. Julia wanted desperately to reach for her niece, but she didn’t dare. The wind picked up, seagulls squawking overhead.
“I mean, before that I always knew you as exotic Aunt Julia, traveling the world, you know?” Hailey continued. “But one of my first memories when I came to in the hospital was the sound of your voice reading On the Banks of Plum Creek. The chapter where Laura and Mary slide down the haystack and make a complete mess. You read that entire series to me.”
“It was one of my favorites when I was a girl. It still is. I always wanted to be Laura, but I think I ended up more like Mary. Or maybe Nellie, god forbid.”
Hailey gave a small laugh. “You’re not a mean girl. Okay, maybe sometimes you act like a mean girl, but everyone who knows you knows the truth. Much as you try to hide it.”
She turned to face Julia, her eyes bright and her face flushed with cold.
“I love you, Aunt Julia. I missed Mom so much, and to have had you all these years as not only my one female ally in a family of obnoxious boys, but as… as a friend is more than I could have wished for. I don’t think I would have gotten better as fast as I did if it hadn’t been for you. I definitely wouldn’t know how to put on lipstick if it hadn’t been for you.”
Julia’s mouth curved. “I love you too, Hailey. More than I can say.”
“So the idea of you and Dad together is strange,” Hailey admitted. “I mean, he and Mom were together for so long…”
“They were an incredible couple,” Julia agreed. “Everyone thought so. Everyone was right, too.”
For the first time, a kind of peace settled over her at the memory of Warren and Rebecca’s marriage. Wasn’t it nice to remember that love and devotion still existed in the world?
“People have thought that about you and Dad, too,” Hailey said. “That you were a couple. Friends of mine have been surprised when I told them you weren’t. I’m guessing a lot of people were surprised to learn that. You and Dad have been a pretty good team.”
“I like to think we’ve all been a good team.”
“We have,” Hailey acknowledged. “I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m not going to get all freaked out and upset about you and Dad being together. Maybe I knew it was inevitable all along. And it wasn’t that long ago that Evan and Carson were worried about Dad being alone so much of the time… so if you’re the reason he’s getting out into the world again, then we should be thanking you. You helped him the way you helped me.”
Tears pricked Julia’s eyes. “I’m not the reason. He’d already made plans before we… got together. I
care deeply for him and never wanted to hurt you and your brothers, but I don’t know what happens next.”
“None of us ever do, Aunt Julia.” Hailey stepped forward, pulling her hands from her pockets. “But I can tell you one thing that happens next.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to hug you.”
Everything inside Julia gave way when her niece’s arms wrapped around her. She let the tears spill over and held on to Hailey as if she were an anchor. When they parted, they were both red-eyed and sniffling.
“So what’s with the balloon?” Hailey touched the string of the balloon still wrapped around Julia’s hand. “Remember that movie The Red Balloon?”
Surprise flickered through Julia. “You’ve seen it?”
“Yeah, you showed it to me when I was back at home after rehab and watching a ton of movies,” Hailey said. “You told me it used to be one of your and Mom’s favorites. You both wanted to set a red balloon free.”
Julia’s heart felt as if it were filling with a thousand bright balloons. “I don’t even remember telling you that.”
“I do.”
“I was going to…” Her throat tightened. She gestured to the ocean, spread out like a painting at the base of the hills. “Set it free.”
Hailey smiled. Julia unwrapped the string from around her hand and let the balloon go. She and her niece stood beside each other, watching as the balloon drifted across the hillside, higher and higher, until it was flying over the white-capped waters of the sea toward the horizon.
New York buzzed like a beehive. Julia had always loved it here—the electric energy, the intensity, the creative drive. She looked down at the city from the fifty-second floor of the Evermore corporate headquarters, her reflection blurred in the windows spanning the entire wall. Strange how, thirty years ago, she never would have imagined herself at this height. Now she thought—well, of course. I’ve worked hard for this.
“They’re ready for you, Ms. Bennett.” The executive assistant extended her hand to the open door of the boardroom.
Julia turned, smoothing her hands over the skirt of her Chanel suit. The ten male members of the Evermore board of directors sat in high-backed leather chairs around a huge oval table, the wood-paneled walls giving the room the air of a stately library. Vincent Peck—distinguished, gray-haired, smartly dressed in a tailored suit and cravat—rose from the head of the table and held out his hand.
“Julia, welcome. We’ve been looking forward to your visit.”
“I appreciate the invitation.” She shook his hand and took her seat at the opposite end of the table.
After a round of introductions, Julia gave her prepared presentation about Queen Bee, explaining her vision for the line and showing them illustrations and photographs of her proposed designs.
Though the stakes were high, she wasn’t nervous. She believed in her idea—maybe more than she’d believed in any of her ideas over the years—and if the Evermore board couldn’t see how good it was, then they still weren’t the right company for her. Even if their investment would put her in an entirely different sphere.
She distilled the extensive research she’d done about the buying processes and patterns of older women, and the fact that women over fifty were the most active, wealthy, and healthiest generation in history.
“In fact,” she said, “women over fifty control a net worth of over twenty trillion dollars. They will control over two-thirds of consumer wealth in the next decade. They have enormous purchasing power. They are investors, professionals, business owners, executives. They are also mothers, grandmothers, wives, friends, sisters, and aunts. They are women who deserve to be both heard and spoken with. They represent a cultural shift in society to the recognition that age is a goal, a privilege, and an honor. Queen Bee is the fashion of that change.”
The board members thanked her for the presentation, murmured among themselves, and perused again the written proposals she’d sent them last week. Vincent nodded at his assistant, who rose and distributed leather binders to each of them.
“We’ve had lengthy discussions about your line already,” Vincent said. “We believe you’ve targeted a demographic that isn’t just underserved, but has been outright ignored. We like your vision, your designs, your approach. I don’t need to tell you that we’re also very impressed with your company and your experience. We also find it refreshing that you’ve chosen to live in California when so many stylists and designers of your caliber prefer the East Coast.”
Though Julia registered the oddity of that last comment—with increasing technology, successful designers could live anywhere they wanted—her attention snapped to the printed title on the binder. Evermore Proposal to Purchase Queen Bee.
Her heart started to pound harder.
“Let’s have a look at our offer,” Vincent suggested.
A rustle followed as everyone opened the binders. Vincent outlined the points one by one—an enormous amount of money, followed by details about stock options, assets, benefits, insurance, and the final point that Evermore wanted to retain Julia as the creative director of the Queen Bee line.
“It’s your vision, after all.” Vincent closed the binder and spread his hands out, a look of complacent satisfaction on his face. “We’d be honored to have you join the Evermore team as an in-house fashion designer of our department store chain, with Queen Bee eventually joining our curated brands. Exclusively, of course. You’d have your own office here in this building, with control over Queen Bee’s design and retail development. We work with numerous factories in China who help keep our profit margins nice and high, but you’ll direct the design teams and work with advertising to ensure your brand reflects your vision.”
Julia’s heart was now racing, but she managed to give a composed nod. “I appreciate the offer. As I’m sure you’re aware, it’s very important that I also continue to design the clothes, especially as we’re still in such an early stage.”
“Of course.” Vincent waved his hand, as if that were a given. “We don’t want to undermine your influence, though of course Queen Bee will belong to Evermore. We only want to help you grow, to see this concept reach its full potential. To exceed it, in fact. To make it more than you can imagine.”
Beneath her concealed shock, Julia was tempted to respond to that remark with the Han Solo Star Wars line, “I don’t know, I can imagine quite a bit.”
Because she could—even if Vincent Peck thought her imagination had limits.
She took her time leafing through the proposal, scanning the clauses and the massive numbers that jumped out at her in bold print.
“As you know, I live in California,” she said. “That’s where my business is headquartered. My family lives there. Accepting your offer implies I’d move to New York.”
“An apartment subsidy is included in clause sixteen,” another man, who had introduced himself as a member of the legal team, pointed out. “We also work with a broker who will help you find a place to rent.”
“I’m not willing to move to New York,” Julia said.
Vincent smiled. “That’s not a deal-breaker, Julia. Perhaps we can work out a bicoastal arrangement, or a situation where you’d come to New York a few months out of the year. That point is negotiable.”
“Thank you.” Julia rose gracefully from her chair and nodded. “This offer is quite… compelling. May I have a moment, please?”
“Take all the time you need. Agnes, show Ms. Bennett to one of the other conference rooms, if she’d like some privacy.”
“Yes, sir.”
Julia picked up the binder and her satchel and walked into the corridor, her spine straight and steps measured.
“Would you like anything to drink?” The assistant showed her into an empty conference room a few doors down from the boardroom.
“No, thank you. I won’t be long.”
Agnes nodded and left, closing the door behind her.
Only then did Julia sag against the
door, her breath expelling in a huge rush. She sank to the floor and pressed her hands to her face, a trembling excitement rising in her like an earthquake.
She grabbed her cellphone from her satchel, her hands shaking.
Please answer. Please please please…
“You have reached the number for Warren Stone…”
Tears stung her eyes. She ended the call and tried to work through her tangled thoughts and excitement. Never in her career had she had this kind of offer. She needed to discuss it with Warren more than she could stand. Did she take the offer now or wait and see what else might come along?
She pushed to her feet, walked to the windows, and looked down at the city. Imagined herself working in this high-rise building, designing fashions for women.
For a company run by ten male board members. For the Evermore president who had once derided her for being “old” and “out of touch.”
Her stomach twisted. She pressed her forehead against the glass.
Longevity is power.
She was no longer a nineteen-year-old who liked frilly dresses and strapless halter tops. She was an almost fifty-year-old woman who had worked, fought, guided, learned, and loved her way through a half-century. She’d established her own successful business. She was smart, sexy as hell, and took no prisoners. She’d made mistakes. She’d done her best. She had experience, knowledge, talent.
She’d carved her own path from the very start. Did she want to be under another company’s control now? To sell them her phenomenal new idea?
Her phone rang with Coldplay’s “Adventure of a Lifetime.” Adam’s ringtone.
Suppressing disappointment that it wasn’t Warren, she answered the call. “Adam?”
“Aunt Julia.”
“Yes.” Faint alarm rose in her at his anxious tone. “Is everything all right?”