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Foolish Games(88)

By:Tracy Solheim


“Well, the mountain isn’t going to come to you, Muhammad. Believe me when I say no one does stubborn martyr better than my son. He’d just as soon think the whole world is against him than admit he might have made a mistake. And believe me, he shares in the blame for this mess. A lot of people do,” she said with quiet certainty.

Julianne ran her hand along the smooth mahogany arm of the refurbished chair. “How do I get him to listen to me? To really trust me?”

“It’s too bad your Slytherin brother can’t be persuaded to tell the truth to Will,” Annabeth mused.

“Not unless there’s something in it for him.”

Julianne had left a caustic voice mail on Stephen’s phone the previous evening, Annabeth and Patricia cheering her on. She’d told her brother to take the money from their grandmother’s trust fund and shove it. She wanted no part of the Marchione money. And, she’d added for good measure, she wanted no part of their family anymore. After all, had her grandmother loved her enough, she would have left her the money outright. She’d told Stephen she’d never forgive him for what he’d done to Will and subsequently to their marriage. He’d tried to call her repeatedly since then, but she’d let the calls go unanswered.

It had been liberating to tell her brother off, but the pain of his deception still cut deeply. It hurt to know her family loved and respected her so little. Her father had essentially written her out of his life shortly after her mother died, leaving her brother as her guardian. The two were never close, but she enjoyed being an aunt to his children. She’d miss that. Annabeth had stayed by her side during last night’s storm, reassuring Julianne that she and Owen were her family regardless of what happened with Will. The thought was both comforting and tragic.

“You should have let me invest the money when I offered it.” Annabeth interrupted her thoughts. “If I give it to you now, Will would certainly misinterpret both of our intentions. It’s too bad because that company was just what this town needed. And I think Will would have been proud of what you were going to do with the profits in his name.”

Julianne contemplated her mother-in-law as her inner Scarlett O’Hara took control. “Who says we have to shelve the idea?” A germ of a plan was formulating in her mind.

Annabeth chuckled. “I guess we don’t. You know what? Who cares if Will gets mad if I invest with you? It’s my money.”

“That might not be necessary.” Julianne paced the small store. “The last thing I want to do is drive a wedge between you two. But I may have another strategy for financing that I hadn’t considered before.”

“Like I said a few minutes ago, it’s always good to have a plan, girl.”

Julianne hugged her mother-in-law. She still wasn’t sure if she had a plan to get Will back, but at least she was going ahead with cementing his legacy in this town, whether he wanted it or not.

“It’s settled then,” Annabeth said as she pulled out of their embrace. “We’re going to Baltimore. But first, I have to look up some old neighbors from Seaside Vista.”

“And I have to call a priest.”

• • •

For a second night, Will couldn’t sleep. His body was sluggish and tired, but his brain wouldn’t give in to the numbness that slumber would provide. He couldn’t stop thinking of her. Julianne had never been in his loft or in this bed, but he swore he could smell her on the sheets. Everywhere he turned in the bed, her scent was there.

He was going mad. Bat-shit crazy like his wife. His fake wife. Make that soon-to-be-ex-fake wife. Somewhere along the way, he’d forgotten about the fake part. And that was how he’d gotten screwed.

Yanking off the tangle of sheets, Will jumped out of the bed in frustration. The sounds from the city blared beyond the windows. It was just the noise. Will always had trouble adjusting to the traffic sounds when he returned to Baltimore. He turned on the white noise machine and set it to play ocean sounds. Soon the room was filled with the sound of Chances Inlet and the sea lapping at the beach.

But when he turned back to the bed, he was once again reminded of Julianne. The tousled sheets brought back memories of rolling around on the mattress with his wife beneath him. She was a whirling dervish, leaving chaos in her wake. He was glad to be rid of her. Except his body was hard just thinking about what she could do to him.

Damn it!

Will gave up on the idea of sleep and trudged down to the kitchen. A half-eaten pizza sat in its box on the counter, surrounded by three empty beer bottles and two dirty plates. Hell, even his kitchen looked like Julianne had been in it. He grabbed a slice of cold pizza out of the box, not bothering with a plate this time. Padding over to the refrigerator to get a beer, he heard his cell phone beep. He’d purposely left it downstairs to avoid the incoming calls, mostly from his mother and Julianne.