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“If you say so. I still can’t help you.” There was finality in her tone.
Julia looked down at her feet, covered in expensive flats, her face heating with embarrassment and tears of frustration pricking her eyelids. What was she thinking, wearing a sleeved linen dress purchased in Paris? She hadn’t even considered dressing down. Christ. How stupid.
She cleared her throat and said with as much grace as she could, “Thank you. Have a good day, Sammi.”
Julia felt the weight of the older woman’s stare on her back as she exited. She slipped her shades back on and held her head high, making the best of the walk of shame to her convertible.
* * *
The following day Julia lunched with her friends. She folded a paper placemat and picked at the damp sleeveless cotton blouse, seeking relief from the perspiration trekking in itchy rivulets over her skin.
“Christ, it’s hot.” She muttered while wiping the moisture with the back of her hand. She dried it on her skirt before directing the makeshift fan to her nape, face, throat, and cleavage.
It was oppressive, despite the deep shade of the veranda and the fans cranking overhead. Worse than the day before when she made a fool of herself at the Wake.
Early June emulated what was typically August weather—blistering temperatures and sauna-like humidity that just about took a person’s breath away. It began a few days ago. They weren’t due for a reprieve until tonight, when the storms blew through ushering in cooler temps and less humidity.
The more she thought about being uncomfortable, the more intolerable it became. She needed to stop and refocused on the conversation.
Five minutes passed. Mind over matter was not working. She squirmed in her seat, unsticking the backs of her thighs from the seat. Good God. Why the hell had they decided to eat outside? This was a day that begged for air conditioning.
She blamed Haven, who was currently yammering on and on about the man she had just met. This was her doing, all because she hoped to run into Gael Carter, who now owned the Overlook, which was where they were having lunch. A recent transplant to Torch River, Gael had grabbed Haven’s attention at the club the other day. He was from somewhere in the Northeast. Fresh meat and handsome, if you preferred blonds and men close to your own age, which Julia did not.
She craved different, and that’s exactly who was filling her head—moments with her stranger from the Wake. Expressive hazel eyes. That wicked smile. Rough bark biting her back and not caring as he pumped into her. She needed to clear her mind.
Social and business were deeply intertwined in Torch River. How on earth was Julia going to attain balance and portray a semblance of happiness and peace given the insurmountable expectations from family and friends? She was suffocating, and it wasn’t simply the moisture-laden air. She wanted to run away. Escape. And she had, if only for thirty minutes in the arms of a stranger.
Years in Europe, working side-by-side with the top people who managed and directed enormous, diverse portfolios similar to that of Hayes, Inc. and away from Torch River had been the best possible break, a cleansing of sorts. But she had returned, ordered by her father to do so, dragging her feet, and miserably fulfilling the commitment to the Hayes empire.
Julia had been back for less than a month, but it seemed like years. Thank God she had purchased her own place ahead of coming back; the cozy bungalow was as far as she could get from her parents, aunt, uncle, and cousins and their families, and as far as she could distance herself from the dysfunction and haunting memories and sadness. She still had boxes in storage to go through, having been thrown into work almost immediately after arriving.
Haven’s request to eat at the Overlook had been more of a pouting demand and all of them—Poppy, Tilly, Edie, and herself—acquiesced, like a bunch of sheep. Julia had no use for sheep, but here she was, admittedly one of them today. It served her right. She had not said anything until after they were seated on the Overlook’s veranda and the stifling day swooped in and enveloped them. Yes, the view was spectacular, but the uncomfortable factor was escalating to she-was-going-to-have-to-leave-pronto. When inquiring about moving inside, the women were told that the restaurant was full the rest of the day. Of course it was.
Anywhere the women would want to lunch would be full. Julia considered heading back to the office, but the thought of doing so practically made her sick. It wasn't the building itself—a historical beauty, but its occupants who exuded negative energy, similar to her parents' house and her aunt and uncle's, too. Regardless of her final lunch decision, she was not returning to work today.
While waiting for a refill on ice water, she texted her father with an excuse: “feeling under the weather.” Sure enough, he immediately blasted back with all caps and a voicemail, which she was sure would be full of expletives and burn her ears, as usual. She would delete it without listening and wander back into the office tomorrow, or later in the week, when she had the stamina to deal with his shit or during after-hours. That was the best time. Just her, some takeout, and files or records and documents to familiarize herself with.
She gazed at her friends. They appeared happy. Seemed to be navigating the weather with minimal discomfort. No sweating. Not even a light sheen.
“Make the best of it, Sugar.” Haven glanced briefly at her and smiled before resuming her watch for Gael.
Sugar, my ass. You have no idea,but Julia swallowed the sharp retort and half of the ice water, then stood. “I’m going to go find some relief.”
She strolled to the far corner and took the U-shaped stairs to the lower level of the two-level deck. The large platform and its dedicated bar were empty. Extending out over the river, it was several stories lower than the Overlook but still offered another great view. A large tree provided generous shade and, there it was—a current of continuous air. Maybe it was due to the bend in the river or the fact that the Jut had not been bathed in sunlight yet. Whatever, it was cooler and welcoming.
She wrested the lightweight blouse from the equally-damp skirt, then unbuttoned it. Free and open, it fluttered gently in the light breeze as she faced the western portion of the city on the other side of the river. Julia lost herself in watching the river.
ChapterFour
The last thing Julia wanted to do tonight was to attend the black-tie fundraiser for one of Susan and Wilson Hayes’ pet projects. She had turned down her parents’ offer to ride with them and drove to Founders Marina by herself. Not relying on anyone for a ride offered the best possibility of escape later.
Being anywhere in the company of her drunk mother and overbearing father and pasting a smile on her face and playing the doting daughter was simply draining. Then there were her twin cousins, aunt, and uncle. A real clusterfuck of a family. Miserable Aunt January’s head was buried deep in quicksand when she wasn’t fucking some guy young enough to be her son, unable to deal with her husband’s activities. Uncle Randolph was just as overbearing as his older brother, her father, and predatory.
Pressed into attending the affair, Julia decided to upstage her parents in an act of rebellion. The backless dress with its crisscrossing spaghetti straps and apron neckline was long, its hem an inch above the floor. Its intricately embroidered floral pattern on sheer mesh, lined in champagne-colored fabric hugged every curve of her toned body. Matching stilettos added three inches to her five-foot-eight-inch height. The mermaid silhouette allowed her to move easily, even more so with the adjustment she had made in the thigh-high slit, opening and reinforcing it to just below her thong strap. Anyone who looked—and people would—offered a glimpse of hip with every movement, every step. No bra, the girls were tucked in nice and snug, although her nipples might be prominent.
She glanced in the full-length bedroom mirror before leaving. As predicted, it was cooler and drier after the storm blew through, so she wore her hair down and messy. Diamond studs sparkled in her ears and a stack of gold bangles played over her right wrist. Julia smirked. She looked like someone’s wet dream. Fuck them all.
* * *
