Authors: Katherine Owen
Tags: #Contemporary, #General Fiction, #Love, #Betrayal, #Grief, #loss, #Best Friends, #Passion, #starting over, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Malibu, #past love, #love endures, #connections, #ties, #Manhattan, #epic love story
Seeing Julia (27 page)
Jake hesitates. “I won’t be able to be there until late Saturday afternoon, but I’ll try to make it.” He gets this distressed look. I look across at him, but he avoids looking at me directly now.
Complications. Most certainly.
I wrestle with my anger for them in keeping this bad news from me, especially Jake. Stephanie and Brad are as stunned as I am at the news that Evan’s company is in jeopardy, and they’re the only ones I’m not mad at, right now. I’ve drifted away, both from the conversation taking place all around me and physically from all of them, as I peruse the pictures along the fireplace mantel.
Brad comes over to me. “You okay?”
“Absolutely.” I force a smile.
“Uh, hey Julia, I know about the code word, absolutely,” Brad says.
I glare over at Kimberley, who, from a distance, is tracking her handsome doctor’s every move. She gives me a questioning look as if to say, what did I do?
“So, are you all right? I’m asking as a
friend
.”
“Let’s see,” I say with a bit of irony. “I’ve been in New York for only a few days. I’m still on Paris time. My nanny isn’t feeling well. My son is turning one tomorrow and I haven’t even frosted his cake or bought him a single gift. And, now I find out Evan’s company is in trouble, has been in trouble for a while, from what I gather.” I shrug. “I’d say I’ve had just about enough for one day.”
“But you’re handling it.”
“Yes, Bradley, my good
friend
, I’m handling it.” He puts an arm around me and squeezes my shoulders.
“See, it’s so much better being friends. I could never do this in the office,” he whispers.
I laugh. From the surprised looks at the table behind us, I believe the inner circle is astounded at my response.
“You’re not going to freak when Kimberley and I do tequila shots a little later; are you?”
“No, I picked up the tequila on my way here.” Brad grins.
“You are so awesome,” I say.
“Do you two want to join the business discussion or have I missed out on why we’re all here?” Jake asks from behind us. “Good friend of yours, Julia?”
Brad and I turn with his arm still around me and we’re confronted with Jake’s seething anger as he stands there clenching his jaw and staring at us. And, my own anger ignites.
“Brad is seeing Kimberley, Jake. He’s a psychiatrist and he worked with me in December. So, yes, I’d say he is a great friend. He calls. He writes. He doesn’t lie, cheat, or steal. He’s fun, but he doesn’t play games. And, he certainly doesn’t keep things from me. He’s an
awesome
friend.”
“You really want to do this now?” Jake asks.
“No. There’s nothing more to say.” I glare at him for a moment. “Okay. Let’s discuss business that’s why
you’re
here.”
He flushes and staggers back from me and I wince, knowing I’ve just delivered a pretty low blow. He’s done so much for Evan’s company and me, but I’m tired of the complications he’s referred to so many times, the game he’s been playing.
“Client’s are beginning to bow out,” Jake says, retaking his seat at the table again. “I can’t make any traction with any new investors. They’re all waiting on the sidelines to see what we’re going to do long term about hiring a CEO. The best thing we can do is plan our strategy around that objective.”
“I agree. We need to set a precedent by choosing a CEO,” Christian says. “That’s our next big move signaling to our clients and the market we’re in this for the long term.”
“But are we in this for the long term?” I ask. “I mean, what are we doing this all for? He’s gone. He isn’t coming back and unless one of you takes this role on, I don’t know what we’re trying to save it for.”
“Let’s not make any hasty decisions about the company right now,” Kimberley says. “Let’s take the weekend to think about it. We’ll all be at the beach house. We can decide what to do this weekend. Okay?”
“I agree. Tomorrow, Reid turns one and we’re all going to be there. I’m sure Julia needs to pack, so I think we should table this conversation for now,” Stephanie says.
The peacemaker tries to still the troubled waters, but the undercurrent is too powerful.
“No.” I surprise myself by speaking. “I don’t want to have a big discussion about this all weekend. We decide now.” I look over at Brad and he subtly nods, which strengthens my resolve to keep going. “We need a CEO. The finance world doesn’t accept women at the helm, so that leaves out Kimberley, Stephanie, and me. Fine. Whatever.” I do my little
stand down
Blackjack move. “Christian can’t do it because his own company is suffering and I know this firsthand because I’ve been leading the Paris office team on straightening out the strategies and messaging. You know, I love you Christian, but you’ve been completely absent with a lot of it, and I know it’s my fault for not taking care of this sooner, but I’m ready to now.” I see him nod.
“Julia, I don’t think we should…” Kimberley struggles for words and looks more worried and uncomfortable by the minute.
I look over at her.
What do you know that I don’t?
“What? The choice is obvious,” I say. “Brad isn’t qualified to lead a hedge fund and I know he’s saying,
thank God
.” I smile over at Brad. Then, turn and stare at Jake. “So that leaves you, Mr. Winston. Do you want the job or not?”
Everyone is looking at me with a very peculiar expression as if I missed the punch line of a joke.
Jake has his hangdog expression going as if he wishes he were any place else but here, or didn’t have to say what he’s about to say. “I can’t take the job as CEO. I’m moving to Austin.”
Austin. Another letter
A
word. I look at Brad for understanding.
Are you getting this? Do you see why I hate this letter so much?
Because I already know Austin and probably Savannah are the complications he’s been speaking of; Jake won’t even look at me now.
And, I’m shaking, trembling head to toe as if I’m drowning. My island’s gone and I am nowhere near the shore. I look at Kimberley; and then, Brad.
Help me.
“Julia,” Jake says my name as if it’s a cry for help as if he’s drowning, too.
Breathe.
“Okay,” I say into the uncomfortable silence. “So that leaves us with a search firm to find a replacement CEO for Evan, unless, there’s someone in-house, some superstar, no one’s mentioned.” I look around. “No? Okay, Kimmy you lead the charge on that one. Let’s do a press release around it. You and I can write it up this weekend. Let’s do another press release on me returning from Paris tying in the whole
Liaison
connection. God knows I’ve earned it over the last few months.”
I smile at her and she’s looking at me as if I’m insane.
Maybe.
“We should really strategize around that because some of
Liaison’s
clients could certainly benefit from Hamilton Equities; right? Or vice versa,” I say. Then, I look directly at Jake. “So this should help you out with the new client acquisition problem, until you leave for
Austin
.” I practically spit the word out at him.
“Savannah handles the human resources stuff at Hamilton Equities,” Jake says, though he sounds as if he’s having trouble breathing. “I can ask her to do the CEO replacement search,”
I give Kimberley a questioning look.
She works for me?
Kimberley subtly nods.
Oh, this is surreal.
“Perfect,” I say to Jake in the growing silence. “Bring her tomorrow. We’ll fill her in on our requirements for a CEO. Everyone think about that criteria and we’ll put together the list. That’s it.” Everyone is staring at me with their mouths half-open, except for Jake and Brad.
“I’ll get the tequila,” Kimberley says.
“Yes, absolutely, bring the tequila, and we’ll chat on the way to Amagansett.”
Keep it together
. I take a deep breath and move over toward Brad and Kimberley, while searching my purse for my cell phone. I’m intent on getting a taxi and heading back to Evan’s penthouse to pack as soon as humanly possible before I completely fall apart as the news of my financial woes begins to sink in and Jake’s announcement that he’s moving to Austin overtakes me. His complications are pulling me under, most of all.
I could lose everything, but hasn’t that already happened?
“I have my car,” Jake says. “I’ll take you home.”
I look past Jake at Brad and Kimberley. She holds up tequila and limes. Brad just has this inquisitive stare that too often gets me to share my secrets.
“No. You know what?” I gaze at Jake with open hostility, ignoring the despair that etches his features. “I don’t need anything from you. You’ve done enough.” I walk away from him towards Kimberley and Brad. “Kimmy, can I just borrow some of your clothes? Let’s just go. I’ve got a cake to frost and things to do for Reid’s party.”
You are here. Am I?
≈
≈*
Battle lines
T
he first Saturday in May dawns with perfect ocean weather and nothing but blue sky and a calm sea, signaling there will be no sadness on this day. Tranquility stays with me. I refuse to let the grief about Evan and everything else I’m unwilling to name to attend this birthday party.
Jubilation swirls through all of us as we watch my one-year-old son dig in to his first birthday cake in the shape of a circus bear. Once Reid discovers no one cares if he puts his thumb directly in the center of his cake, he stuffs fistfuls of cake and frosting into his little mouth as fast as he can. The look of glee in being able to do this all by himself is precious.
Evan’s parents stop by during this hilarious moment and it’s a rare scene to see them enjoy their only grandson’s delight. His squeals are infectious as he proceeds to get cake and frosting everywhere, including his clothes, face, and hair. Reid with his circus birthday hat claps his little hands and plays with the red and yellow balloons tied to his high chair. This is enough amusement for my child and his laughter enchants all of us. He is the magic this day.
“This is the inauguration for a lifetime of loving chocolate, you know,” Kimberley says. She takes a picture of the larger circus cake that I’ve decorated depicting a circus elephant and monkey peeking out of a red circus tent shaped cake. “Did you stay up late to get all of this done? Do you have to be Martha Stewart with the cakes? Now Brad is going to want one of these.” We all laugh.
Kimberley and I keep up with digital camera duties together because we don’t want to miss anything he does today. After cake, ice cream, and presents, things slow down and Reid sits in the center of the great room playing with his new toys until naptime.
Where Jake is becomes the running conversation topic by mid-afternoon. We continue to wait for him, but then finally convene at the dining room table to put together a list of leadership qualities for a new CEO for Hamilton Equities.
We’ve just finished, when Jake and Savannah arrive. Instant tension permeates all of us, as soon as Savannah Bennett enters our atmosphere. Even Dr. Bradley Stevenson, Mr. Hallmark Card himself, seems to be at a loss as to how to handle this unexpected force.
This much I know. Scarlett O’Hara lives. She’s alive and well and breathing in the perfect dark-haired goddess form of one Miss Savannah Bennett, who uncannily resembles the classic movie star Vivien Leigh who played the part of Scarlett, only with a self-possessed personality and none of the famous actress’s
good
traits. Savannah doesn’t grace a room; she cloaks it. A cloying perfume whose scent lingers on long after the physical embodiment departs. A poison star or a wayward sun, one cannot stare at her too long for fear of blindness or perhaps, incineration. A burning star at the center of her own universe, we serves as bit players, smaller planets or moons set to orbit around her or distant stars she’s flung to the farthest point of the galaxy, after colliding with her all powerful gravitational force. My utter destruction would be just fine with her, evident within the first minute of her meeting me. After Jake’s introductions, I silently communicate
is she for real?
to Kimberley. She can only nod.
I just don’t know how real, quite yet.
Jake is stuck within her orbit as an extraordinary planet seemingly unaware of her thermonuclear powers. He accompanies Savannah everywhere she goes, ensuring she has what she needs or wants. If he strays away from her trajectory path by showing any interest in anyone else, even something as simple as offering to get one of us a glass of wine, which most of us practically guzzle while in her presence, Savannah demands his attention be centered back on her within the predetermined time limit of twenty seconds.
Competition with me began for Savannah from the moment she walked in. This perfect stranger has waged a secret battle with me I didn’t expect to be drawn into as she makes pointed remarks about my beverage offerings, food choices, and cake-decorating abilities. “You’re quite amazing, Julia,” she says at every turn. But it’s the way she says this that leaves little doubt to her true feelings about me.
My consolation is everyone appears to be on edge with her arrival. It’s not just me. The celebration seems to have hit a mystifying lull, like a ride at an amusement park that suddenly slides backwards, the first indication something’s not quite right, before disaster follows. This sense of dread, its inevitability, settles all around me. A storm’s coming; the planets are preparing to realign.
Jake and I have this implied truce going. I focus on ensuring my son’s first birthday is memorable and feel relief about the strategy we’re taking with Hamilton Equities. I’m averse to further exploring the feelings I have with Jake’s
complications
that he alluded to a few months ago in Paris. I can center myself by focusing on Reid this day.
As the party moves towards late afternoon, I begin the preparations for grilling steaks outside on the back deck. Jake volunteers to do these and heads out the French doors with a plate of filets, while Savannah airily announces she’s a vegetarian.
“Really? And you’re from Texas?”
For her teasing remark, Kimberley is rewarded with a contemptuous icy stare from Savannah. This would be funny at any other party, but not this one. We scramble to find her some suitable alternative entrée, but like Goldilocks with porridge, nothing is quite right for Ms. Bennett.
“I’ve been nauseous for days with this pregnancy. I’m hoping I feel better at the end of June when we get married.”
Momentarily stunned by what’s she’s just said, I watch her sip at her glass of water and feel as if I’ve been punched in the stomach. I stand, frozen for a few seconds, and then move toward the refrigerator pretending to look for something, while I quake inside at this news, although I should have figured out this
complication
already. She’s evasive when Kimberley asks her how far along she is. I flit around the kitchen pretending to be busy while listening with interest to every word she utters. “Well, when Jake returned from London in March, we had quite a reunion.” Her radiant smile is almost too bright and I have to look away.
A few minutes later, I escape upstairs to check on Reid, since Lianne left us for her cousin’s place in the city a few hours before, still not feeling well. From the upstairs bedroom window, I watch Jake as he talks with Christian out on the deck. A child would mean everything to Jake, this much I do know about him: he would choose a life with her because of a child. It all makes perfect sense, his hesitation in Paris, the complications he spoke of; and, here they are. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. This connection between us, whatever this is, can’t happen.
I look out at the Atlantic. The endless light blue horizon and the vast royal blue swells meet in perfect symmetry, a linear alliance with nothing between them. There is no land in sight. My island is nowhere to be found. He’s nowhere to be seen. “Evan, where are you?”
≈ ≈
This underlying sense of chaos greets me when I return downstairs. With Jake and Christian out on the deck grilling steaks for everyone, Savannah’s needs have gone unmet and she’s unhappy. I discover Brad methodically searching through our soda supply for an acceptable one for Savannah that doesn’t contain aspartame. Kimberley and I are maneuvered into putting together an appetizer that doesn’t have any beef, chicken, soy or dairy in it because she’s starving and just cannot wait to eat any longer.
She displays this disquieting, satisfied smile as we serve her. Peace has been restored among the planets, temporarily. Savannah is happy for now.
The filets are grilled to perfection. It’s the one communiqué I make a point of telling Jake as we sit down to eat at the dining room table, while Savannah goes on and on about the hazards of carnivorous living. That’s what Savannah calls it, carnivorous living. After Savannah’s long-winded dissertation on the hazards of eating steak, Jake appears so disheartened; I thank him again for playing chef. “Perfectly cooked filets, Jake. Thank you.”
He gives me a grateful smile and I return it. Turning to Savannah, I glimpse pure hatred as she trains her gaze on me, but in the next moment, she contrives this wide smile, which is all Jake sees when he looks over at her.
Kimberley pours more red wine for all of us. “Cheers,” she says.
I give her a pleading look to behave herself and not cause any unnecessary trouble with Savannah Bennett, who seems intent on waging a personal battle with me and appears to be waiting for the just the right moment to strike. She converses mostly with Jake and the rest of the inner circle, as little as possible with this perfected banter and completely ignores me. The feeling that I need to protect myself becomes almost insistent as the party goes on.
I follow Kimberley out to the kitchen for coffee to mitigate the buzz from too much wine and take a respite from Savannah herself.
“Watch yourself,” Kimberley says. “She doesn’t like you.”
“Uh-huh. Got that. What do you think her problem is?”
“You, most definitely. Insecurity about
him
.” She inclines her head towards Jake as he enters the kitchen asking what he can do to help. Minutes later, Jake follows me out onto the deck where I attempt to put things back in order, collecting plates and utensils left outside. Through the glass doors, I see Kimberley is engaged in a conversation with Savannah and I take a deep breath.
“Julia, look, I need to explain this.” He runs his hands through his hair, his signature stress sign.
This whole situation between us has become unbearable. The jubilation of this day ebbs away from me and fury begins to take its place. “She’s pregnant; you two are getting married at the end of June. She
told
us.” I shrug, striving for nonchalance, while rage works its way through me.
How could I have been so stupid? So weak? How can I do this to Evan’s memory?
“Congratulations. I knew there were complications and I figured you were still engaged to her for some reason. Stupidly, I thought you’d have it all worked out in a few months, while I was still in Paris running things for Kimberley. Yes, you’ve got it worked out, all right.” The roar of waves hitting the beach seems timed to my words. There’s this massive pounding at the shore.
“I want to do the right thing.”
“Then, you should, Jake. A child changes everything. Be happy. You’ll have a wife, a family, live in a reasonably-sized town; I assume Austin is small enough for you.” I try to laugh, but it comes out this agonized cry.
“You never called me,” Jake says. “No explanation of why you stayed behind in Paris.”
“What? No. I waited for you to call me to let me know you’d gotten the crane mobile. My apology note? When you didn’t call, I assumed you didn’t accept my apology after all.”
“The what?” He looks confused.
“The crane mobile,” I say. “You know a thousand cranes bring you good luck? I sent it to you from Paris. It has nine black and white little birds, cranes, with a red one in the center.”
“Yes, we have one of those. Savannah bought it for me, two months ago.”
“No, Jake.” I shake my head side-to-side. “I
made
it for you. I sent it to you. You can’t buy them; you
make
them. I made it for you. I sent you a note too, apologizing for the things I said to you in Paris, for everything.”
I shake out the grill cover and he helps me put it back on. We’re just looking at each other with so much to say and neither one of us saying anything.
“Why would Savannah lie about it?” Jake finally asks. “I never got your note.”
“Why are we even talking about this?” I can’t control the anger any longer and just unleash it on him. “You’re getting married, in what, seven weeks to
her?
I thought we had an understanding, this wait and see thing. But you’re engaged to her, marrying her, and she’s having your child. That’s a lot more than a
complication
.”
He’s just standing there, not saying anything, looking distraught. Then I see this flash of anger come over him. “I had a life. I started over. I moved on and Savannah and I … it’s complicated. Then, she tells me she’s pregnant and the answer seems so clear. And then, I see you again and this thing between us just reaches at me. You drive me insane, Julia. I had a life. I started over. But here you are … if you could just see me.”
“What are you
talking
about? I don’t know what you want from me.” I race down the stairs leading to the beach and start running toward the shoreline away from him, but he follows.
“I have to do the right thing,” he says above the roar of the waves.
“Then do it; do the right thing. Go to her. Go now.”
“If you could just—”
“Don’t you dare put this on me! I may have fucked up many things in my life, but I didn’t do this; you did. Wait and see? Well, I
see
it all now.”
Jake grabs my arm. “Please Julia. If you could just wait and see.”
“No! Let go of me. I’ve heard enough.”
We both look up at the same time and see Brad at the top of the deck stairs with Kimberley and Savannah following right behind him. I slip from Jake’s grasp.
“Julia, are you all right?” Brad asks when he reaches us.
“Absolutely.” I give him a pleading look and avoid looking at Jake. Brad nods with understanding.
“Let’s go for a walk, Jake,” Brad says.
I try to get a hold of myself and these racing emotions. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kimberley and Savannah retreat from the steps toward the house; and then watch the two men walk further down the shoreline just out of reach of the crashing waves. The sky begins to darken, signaling a storm is coming.