Finding Julian (3 page)

I kept quiet, allowing his words to soak
in. Of course it was hard for them. Still, had they ever considered how hard it
was for my mother and me?

“She didn’t know he was married,” I said
sharply, becoming defensive. He probably believed like everybody else did, that
my mom was just some gold digger. It wasn’t true. She never wanted money from
Cole Vanderson.

Never.

I stared out, admiring the houses along
Boston Neck Road.

Seven blew out a long breath. “What’s
done is done. The person who caused this is no longer here. But trust me when I
say Cole was trying to take responsibility for everything. That’s why—”

“Can we change the subject?” I cut in.
That uncomfortable feeling was spreading over me again. The same uneasiness I
felt with Aunt Bev on the balcony yesterday.

“Sure,” he obliged. “Subject changed.”

The one subject I was curious about was
Seven’s presence in all this. “So, are you here for the funeral?” I asked,
keeping my eyes on him.
What was this guy’s story?

He shook his head. “No, I’ve been
staying at the guesthouse for two years now.”

Great
. Seven was a
freeloader living off my father’s money. Rolling my eyes, I stared out the
window again.

He continued his explanation, “I’ve been
going to University of Rhode Island, bay campus. Your dad insisted I stay at
the guesthouse while attending classes. I work at his company every break I get
from school, so it’s more convenient for me. Anyway, I love it down here.”

“Oh,” I gaped, ashamed for jumping to
conclusions.

Seven must have noticed my surprise when
he looked over at me. “What’s the matter? You thought I was taking advantage of
my aunt’s husband’s wealth?” He smiled broadly, revealing perfect white teeth
that glinted in the sunlight. “Don’t worry, I come from it too.”

“Sorry,” I breathed.

“Hey, it’s cool. People misjudge me all
the time.”

I couldn’t help give him a quick glance
over. Seven was really good-looking. He wasn’t the type you’d describe as
heavenly handsome, yet gorgeous beyond average. Strands of his tousled brown
hair fell over his thick brows, his manly face barely had any visible facial
hair, and his lips appeared soft, thin, and very kissable.

I continued gawking at his features,
even lowering my eyes down to his chest. His t-shirt didn’t hide much in the
way it pressed onto his body. His chest protruded beneath it, showing he worked
out.

Seven spun and our eyes met. I turned my
head around, tugging at my Capris so I had something else to do. I knew my
cheeks flushed from being caught staring.  

He cleared his throat before saying,
“Here’s the Narragansett town beach. This place is usually busy around summer.
Some come here to idle along the sea wall.”

I eased forward and peered out the
windshield. I couldn’t see the ocean with the wall. Still, he was right about
the place being busy.

Seven braked at the stop light. His
fingertips began drumming on the steering wheel. “So, Julian, what do you do?
College? Work?”

Right, almost forgot people would ask me
that. I looked straight ahead as I answered, “I’m not working right now.” Not
sure why I felt embarrassed telling him that. “I went to a Business school for
one year after high school and received a certificate in Marketing,” I added,
not to appear like a complete bum. “I was working up till May, but then...with
the economy still so…anyway, my boss had to let a few people go.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding disappointed.
Was he judging me now?

“How about working down here, with your
dad’s company?” he offered. “I’m sure Aunt Bev would be thrilled to have you.”

I winced, taken aback. “I don’t think
so. The sooner I get back to Manhattan, the quicker I’ll get back to my life.”
Or what was left of it.

In a casual tone, he asked, “Is there
something you have to get back to…or someone?”

His question aroused the memory of my
apartment. How I wished I could still live there when I returned, so I’d be
able to hide away. My boyfriend—now ex-boyfriend—was probably dating my ex-best
friend. Both had once been really important to me.
Once
. Now, they truly
sickened me. But I couldn’t go there, not now. I had enough to deal with.

“It’s where my home is,” I answered.

When the lights switched green, Seven
turned left onto Ocean Road.

“Here are the popular towers,” he
carried on his tour of the town, drawing me out of the gruesome memory of
catching Clyde and Stacey, in bed together. “There used to be a casino inside,
back in the day.”

He pointed out the windshield as he
drove beneath the historic structure that curved over the road. I’d been in
Narragansett once. So I wasn’t able to see the town and all it had to offer.
From what I’d seen so far, it wasn’t too bad.

Seven flashed me a quick grin before
turning his eyes back on the road. He seemed so proud of where he lived. Still,
I had to ask, “If you’re only staying at the estate while attending college and
working, where are you originally from?”

My question somehow placed a burden on
him. His grin disappeared. He shrank back into his seat. “I lived in Newport,
with my parents.”

Was that such a bad thing? I’d have to
go live with my mother when I get back to Manhattan.

“You seem unhappy with that,” I said,
thinking he was a spoiled guy with too many options.

Then his knuckles reddened as he
tightened his grip on the wheel and said, “Let’s talk about something else.”
His tone turned serious. I immediately retracted my initial thought. Seven
wasn’t bratty. There was something else—something that obviously hurt.

I quivered at how fast his mood changed
with the mention of his family. First he was all enthusiastic, now he seemed
upset.

We drove for another few minutes,
sight-seeing, until getting to Point Judith lighthouse. Seven appeared to have
relaxed again as we lingered nearby the lighthouse, walking along the cliff,
until deciding to get something to eat.

He drove to the popular Iggy’s and
bought us fish and chips. Afterwards, he started back to the estate. I was so
lost in the drive away from it all that I’d nearly forgotten I was going to
attend my father’s funeral in two hours. I would need all the strength I could
conjure for that.

Chapter Four

It was a little past noon
when we got back to the estate. Seven wanted to show me my father’s paintings
so he convinced me to follow him inside the main house.

Marlene was in the living room, talking
to some man dressed in a suit. They both looked up as I entered the front door.
Their narrowed eyes reflected their astonishment at my nerve. I’d entered this
house. Marlene’s house. Immediately, I tensed under their infuriating gaze.
What was I doing here?

“Dad, you’re early,” Seven said. I stood
cautiously behind him. My nerves calmed a little knowing he was there.

I glanced between all three, looking for
similarities. Other than the emerald eyes shared between Seven and his father,
there wasn’t much to tell they were related to Marlene.

Seven’s father got up from the armchair,
looking awkward. He fixed his cuff as he walked towards his son.

“I had to take care of some business.”
Glancing my way, he grunted, “My sister was right,” leaving right after.

“And that was my father, Anthony
Monroe,” said Seven. “Sorry about that.”

I couldn’t help release a, “Hmm,” nearly
missing Marlene as she walked up to me.

Her face twisted in anger. “It’s bad
enough Beverly has you staying at the guesthouse. However, stay out of
this
house and away from my daughter. You’ve upset her enough.”

She moved in the direction of the
stairs, adding over her shoulder as she reached the second step, “And
don’t
speak to anyone at the service.”

What the hell? What was their problem?
All these people cared about was whether or not I’d embarrass them. Bastard
child or not, I’d had enough.

“I’m not interested in talking to
anyone,” I snapped after her. “I just want to make peace with my father.”

Marlene sashayed up the stairs, her
heels clunking on the tile with each step. She paused at the top and scoffed,
not buying into anything I said, before disappearing out of sight.

I turned to Seven. “Thanks for the tour.
I’ll head back to the guesthouse now.”

“What about the paintings?” he asked,
touching my elbow as I started to leave.

I turned slowly and smiled reluctantly
at him. Seven had no idea how small I felt, being in this house again. “Another
time.”

He nodded.

As I made my way towards the front door,
he quickly reached for my arm again. I stopped.

“Julian, you’re a Vanderson too,” he
said softly. “Remember that.”

Spinning, I looked him straight in the
eye. He gave me a partial smile then walked off without saying anything else. I
stood frozen, stunned by his words as I watched his retreating back head out of
the living room and down the long hallway.

Without realizing what I was doing, I
lifted my hand and started to rub the part of my arm where he’d touched me. For
some strange reason, Seven had left a funny feeling in my stomach.

Collecting myself, I walked out the
front door and around the house to the side steps, heading back to the
guesthouse. As I crossed the lawn, I glimpsed Aunt Bev lounging down on the
beach.

I changed direction and walked over.
Aunt Bev noticed me coming and immediately closed the book she was reading,
sitting up in the chair.

“Did you enjoy the drive?” she asked as
I got close.

“It was okay. Narragansett is nice. Mr.
Monroe, Marlene, and my sister aren’t.”

Aunt Bev patted the chair next to hers,
indicating for me to sit down. I did, keeping an eye on the book in her lap. It
had my father’s name on it.

“He left that for you?” I asked without
thinking.

She peered down at the book then back at
me, smiling. “Yes.” Aunt Bev rubbed her thumb across his name. “My brother…he
was a good man, Julian.”

“Not a lot of people thought so. Ask my
mom,” I shot back, regretting the words soon after.

Aunt Bev inclined her head to the side.
“Yes, Sarah was really angry at him, finding out he was already married with a
child. He shouldn’t have done such a thing. Then when she discovered she was
pregnant with you, it all took off.”

I sat out on the chair, staring blankly
at the waves crashing ashore on this warm and sunny afternoon. If my trip to
Narragansett was more of a vacation, I’d probably go swimming. I really missed
doing that.

The thought was short-lived as I drifted
back to the conversation. “That day, when my mother showed up here with me and
got chased away, why did you offer to help?” I asked, gazing indirectly at Aunt
Bev.

She stood, clutching the book to her
chest. “It was the right thing to do. Marlene’s a bitch, and your father was
too ashamed to even face your mother then. But after some time he finally
wanted to make amends—”

“That’s why you sent my mother money in
New York, even though she asked you not to?” I stood as well.

Her brows furrowed as she answered,
“Things were difficult. She needed it.” Aunt Bev softened her expression as she
went on, “The money was from your father. I only told her it was mine so she’d
accept it for your sake. Sarah’s prideful, but she’ll do anything for you,
Julian.”

Aunt Bev walked past me, slowly making
her way towards the guesthouse. I dawdled behind, watching my toes curl in the
sand. I always knew Aunt Bev cared about my well-being, yet, there was still a
bad feeling in my chest, like my father should have fought harder to keep me in
his life.

It was too late for that now.