Christmas 2011 Trio A. Кейт Хьюит
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my pride and approach you. Just talk to him, that’s all I ask.”
“Sorry, but I’m not interested.”
“I’d hoped your mother—”
“Leave my mother out of this!”
“I sent her a Christmas card,” Aimee said. “I thought the best way to reach you was through her.”
Roy stood up and leaned against his desk. “You sent my mother a Christmas card? Why would you do such a thing? How was she supposed to take that?”
“I didn’t write anything in it. I just wanted her to know I don’t bear her any ill will.”
Roy stared at Aimee, completely stupefied. “Did it ever occur to you that she might be the one who bears ill will?”
Aimee bit her pouting lower lip. Collagen injections? he wondered indifferently. “Not really.”
“Thank God you never wanted to be her friend. I’d hate to think what you might have done if you’d actually liked her.”
Aimee gave a little cry of dismay. “I didn’t do anything to her!”
Despite his effort not to reveal his emotions, Roy felt himself clenching his jaw. “You stole her husband.”
“I didn’t,” Aimee insisted. “Burton hadn’t been happy in years.”
Roy ignored that. “Then my father cheated my mother in the divorce settlement. He took what should’ve been hers by hiding the money in offshore accounts.”
“Burton would never do that,” Aimee said, shaking her head. The shimmering pale blond hair swung gently. Roy figured she was well aware of the effect.
“Stay married to him,” he advised. “Now you know what he’ll do if a younger, sexier replacement comes along.”
“Burton and I are deeply in love,” Aimee said. “Do you think it was easy coming here today? Well, it wasn’t. I thought—I hoped you’d at least listen to me, but I can see I was wrong.”
“You can tell my father one thing,” Roy said angrily. “Tell him to—”
“I don’t want to listen,” Shirley cried, and covered both her ears.
“Me, neither.” Goodness followed suit. She hummed a special hymn to blot out the terse, angry words. When she felt it was safe, she lifted her hands from her ears.
Mercy’s eyes were wide. “That boy has quite the vocabulary.”
“You listened?”
“Sure, why not? Aimee had it coming. That woman has some nerve, arriving out of the blue like that.”
Shirley walked over to the door and peered out. “She’s gone now.”
“Good riddance.”
“What a mess,” Goodness said with a sigh. “I think she must genuinely love Roy’s father, otherwise she’d never have shown up at the office.”
“She lacks discretion,” Shirley said sadly. “How could she possibly think that mailing Anne a Christmas card would help her cause?”
“She’s feeling guilty.”
“As well she should.”
“We weren’t sent here to deal with Aimee,” Goodness reminded her friends. “That woman is going to require an entire legion of angels. Our concern is Roy.”
“Oh, brother!” Mercy threw herself against the wall. “You won’t believe this.”
“What?” Shirley tried to peek but Mercy stopped her. “Oh, look at Roy.”
Goodness studied him. Roy was in an agitated state, pacing back and forth across the room. Although she was unable to read his thoughts, one glance told her that those thoughts were dark and angry.
Mercy pointed toward the other room. “You’ll never guess who just arrived.”
“Not Anne,” Shirley cried.
“No, worse,” Mercy said. “It’s Julie.”
Twenty-One
Julie stepped off the elevator and strolled toward Ms. Johnson, the guardian of Roy’s office. For two days, she’d wrestled with the question of what she should do. She dreaded giving him her answer, but now that she was here, she was more convinced than ever that she’d made the right decision.
Her natural inclination was to accept Roy’s invitation and move in with him. He was correct about one thing: it was what they both wanted. Deep down, she clung to the hope that one day he’d love her. She suspected he already did, or had begun to, anyway, but refused to acknowledge his feelings. Moving in with him had been easy to rationalize. In the end, however, after a lengthy talk with her sister, Julie had to admit that she wanted more out of their relationship. The hard part would be convincing Roy that they both needed more time.
“Ms. Wilcoff.” His assistant looked up, startled. “Did I know you were coming?”
“No, no, I stopped here on my way home from school. Is Roy busy?”
The woman, who was rarely flustered, seemed so now. “Let me check.” Rather than use the intercom, she scurried away from her desk and disappeared behind Roy’s office door.
When Jason, the downstairs security guard, had let Julie into the building without so much as a raised eyebrow, she should’ve realized there was a problem. The guard had worn a funny look, as if he knew something she didn’t. Julie had wanted to ask him, but decided against it. Now Ms. Johnson was behaving in a peculiar manner, too.
A moment later, she reappeared. “He asked me to show you right in, but …”
“But?” Julie prompted when the woman hesitated. “Is Roy having a bad day?”
The older woman nodded. “You could say that. On second thought, seeing you might be exactly what he needs.”
Now that Julie had arrived at her decision, she felt an urgency to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible. Delaying it might give her just enough time to change her mind.
Roy was sitting at his desk when she entered his office. He looked up and smiled, but she noticed that the warmth she’d grown to expect was missing.
“Should I come back later?” she asked uncertainly.
“No.” He motioned for her to take a seat.
“I probably should’ve phoned first.”
“Probably,” he agreed. He relaxed in his chair and folded his hands over his stomach. And waited.
“I thought I should let you know what I’ve decided.”
He nodded, his expression unchanged.
The tightness in Julie’s throat increased. She leaned forward just a little and tucked her hands beneath her thighs, something she did when she was nervous. “I guess there’s only one way to say this …”
“You’re not accepting my invitation,” he finished for her.
“Yes.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Several, but I do want you to know how tempted I was.”
“That’s neither here nor there, is it?”
“Well, no—”
“Unless, of course, you’re figuring I’ll up the ante.”
Anger flared instantly, but Julie mentally counted to ten before responding. “No, Roy, I’m not figuring you’ll up the ante.” She stood. “I think it’d be best if we talked about this another time.”