Olly’s name popped up a few times at the beginning, but it soon faded out of view. Rich’s, on the other hand, got dragged around time and time again, no matter how hard he tried to keep his head down. His relation to Sandy—whom the journalists started calling a “promising new star”—made him a point of interest. His dubious Chicago history only added to the appeal. Rich spent most of his days in Sandy’s garage, working on furniture and avoiding reporters.
Unlike Rich, Sandy bloomed under the glare of the media. It not only didn’t hurt her chances for getting the movie role but outright clinched it. The script was about a family with more skeletons than closets to keep them in. The real-life drama served as a welcome tie-in and free publicity. Weeks before shooting was to begin, the writers were slaving away to make certain parallels between fiction and the actual events more prominent.
Sandy played the media like a pro, giving interviews, plugging the movie they hadn’t even started shooting yet, and her TV show too, and being fabulous in the process. Appreciative of her cooperation, the press stopped hounding her, and by the time the house-warming party came around, there wasn’t a single one of their vans parked out on the street—to the neighbors’ relief.
The weather was perfect for a garden gathering—warm but not hot, light breeze spreading the scent of honeysuckle through the air. They had set up out back with food and booze. Sandy had hired caterers—it was no surprise party, after all. Rich came inside only to mix up another pitcher of margaritas when the doorbell rang. Expecting a late guest he opened the door with a polite smile. His face fell when he saw Julie.
“Hey,” he said with unease.
“Richard,” she replied just as stiffly. “How are you doing?”
“Good, good.”
“I saw you on the news.”
He groaned. “Don’t believe everything you see or read. What are you doing in town?”
She adjusted her purse on her shoulder as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands. “Conference. I couldn’t decide if I should come to see you or not. I called your sister, and she said to come by.”
The situation was awkward, but Rich didn’t want her to feel unwelcome. “Come in. The party is out back.”
“Nah, I can’t. Just stopped by on my way to the airport.” She motioned toward the curb, and Rich noticed the waiting cab. “Richard, your sister made it sound like you decided to settle down here. Is it true you’re not planning on coming back to the business? It sounds crazy, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It was never my dream but my father’s. I did it to please him. I spent most of my life trying to please him, and in the end, it was all for naught. I need to move on, make some changes in my life.”
Something in her eyes softened, and her lips parted for a reply, but Olly chose that very moment to skid up to Rich. He bumped into Rich with an unmistakably intimate motion, his hip touching Rich’s in a way lovers’ do. “There you are! I was looking—” He noticed Julie. “Oh, hi!”
“Olly, this is Julie, my ex from Chicago,” Rich explained.
Olly immediately pulled away. “Oh, right. Sorry. I…uh…should leave you to it.” He dashed off.
“Quite a change, Richard, but at least some things are starting to make sense now.” There was an edge to her voice.
“Jules—” he started, but she stopped him with a raised hand.
She squeezed her eyes together for the length of taking a deep breath. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s your life, and I didn’t come to rehash old grievances.” She rooted around in her purse, pulled out a piece of paper and pushed it under his nose. “I came to give you this.”
Rich took it. It was a check for seventy-five thousand dollars. “What’s this?”
“The condo sold. It’s your cut. I know, not much, but the market is what it is, and after paying the bank back, there was only so much left. I’ve been paying the mortgage by myself for the last year, and calculated it in too.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did, Richard. For me, not for you. I should go.” She unexpectedly stumbled forward and gave him a hug. “Good-bye, Richard.” She spun around and headed down toward the curb.
“Take care, Jules,” he called after her.
She waved a hand without looking back and hopped into the cab. As Rich watched it roll down the street, it was like saying good-bye to a piece of his past. It was a bittersweet feeling.
Rich tucked the folded-up check into his back pocket, and plans for a furniture shop started shaping up in the back of his mind—he’d have to talk them over with Olly and Sandy.