Page 99 of Sand in My Boots

We finished the conversation about the photo shoot. In about five minutes, she made me see it was truly something great for her business. She also made it clear it’s the equivalent of how she feels with women parading around me in short tennis skirts or bikinis. I told her I don’t see them, conceding her point about me having nothing to worry about. She’s smart, this girl of mine.

Mine.

Juliana Langley is officially mine.

Her head tilts my way. Looking over her shoulder, she gives me a sad smile. “Missing you is going to be a hard part.”

“At least we won’t be miserable like last time. What were we thinking?” I laugh to lighten the heaviness. I don’t do well with heavy, even if it’s for a reason like this.

“We weren’t, clearly. I’m glad Elisa didn’t let me wallow in my stupidity for too long.”

“Same. I thanked her the other day with some free coupons for the next time she comes to the resort. She didn’t seem overly thrilled with my gesture.”

“Not when she’d rather be off to Europe or foreign countries. Can you imagine staying within the limits of the United States for vacation?” Her hand lands on her chest in mock entitlement, doing a great impression of her sister. “The horror.”

I squeeze my arms tighter around her, pulling her deeper into my embrace. I’m pretending I won’t miss her. That even if it’s a month until we physically see each other, I’ll be okay.

I’m hardly convincing myself.

And of course, the other piece weighing heavy on me is what happens if we have what it takes to be in it for the long haul? I make a good living to support myself, but Juli’s accustomed to a more luxurious life, one with higher standards. I don’t have the extra funds to drop on plane tickets to fly back and forth to visit. It’s not fair to her to always come to me. Even if she can afford it.

“I’m going to miss you, too. In case I haven’t made that clear enough.”

“We can look at our schedules before you leave to see when I can come back. Even for a long weekend.”

“Get a date on the calendar. I like it.”

I more than like it, but I don’t want to be that guy. The one who gets all sappy about how much he’s going to miss his girl.

We sit on the sand a bit longer. Juli had the good sense to bring two oversized blankets and kept all digs about me being on the sand to herself. A trade-off for the whole towel thing.

One final stop through the drive-thru at her favorite coffee shop and we’re back at her place. I’ve got a few more hours with her before she’ll need to drop me at the airport, but she has a meeting with a new client. She gave me full rein over her condo, but I end up on the couch with the TV remote. Picking up where I left off in Mad Men, I don’t give it my full focus. It’s a mindless show to begin with, but my attention’s on anything but the show.

It’s stuck on how to move forward in the relationship. The whole concept of “live in the present” has jumped ship, my mind wandering to the next time I’ll see her. When I can come back here. How to get through x amount of days without her kisses and seeing her gorgeous face.

I’m totally smitten and not ashamed to admit it.

Halfway through the first episode, my stomach rumbles. In the kitchen, I find some chips and grab the leftover dip from the other day from the fridge. I’m on my way back to the living room, not watching where I’m going, and knock into a side table. Papers and folders crash to the floor from my clumsiness. Depositing the snack on the coffee table first, I walk back to pick up the mess. I don’t know where to start. Papers are strewn about, and file folders, once full, lay empty. Juli’s neat script indicates what’s supposed to be in them, but not wanting to snoop, I put everything in a neat pile. I smile at finding her keys from Whispering Tide, knowing why she kept them.

Working on an apology, my eyes spot the Whispering Tide logo on top of one paper. I think nothing of it at first, but then my name jumps out at me. I don’t mean to read it all, but I can’t help it.

To say I’m shocked at what it says is an understatement.

I don’t understand most of the legal jargon, but the one thing my brain does process is that Juli is the anonymous donor for my share.

Mind. Blown.

Sure, I always assumed it was a Langley who helped me out—Preston. The guy I’ve been friends with for years. The man who invited me to his house when I wasn’t ready to go home. The one who had the initial idea for Whispering Tide. The one who would “anonymously” put up the money for me because he wanted me involved.

My breath screeches to a stop, the room around me spinning.

It was Juli this whole time?

Why?

Why would she do this?

Why would she have offered millions of dollars on my behalf, to someone she used to know? Someone she had a onetime fling with back in the day and hadn’t spoken to since?