The Billionaire's New Year Gift. Emma Darcy
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seven-ten. Judge Winkle won’t be in chambers till nine. So that means at least two hours, prob’ly more.”
“Two more hours!” Julie said.
“Yeah, cutie. It’s no fun here, is it?” With that the cop left them.
“Alex,” she cried, the tears starting in earnest now.
He let her cry for a while. Just held her in his arms and rubbed her back and made comforting sounds. When she finally stopped, he handed her a clean handkerchief. “Sit down, Julie. Tell me what happened.”
“I told you. We were just at Sandpipers and—”
“Who’s we?”
“Me, Bits, Crystal, Logan, Phoebe—”
“Phoebe? I didn’t see her back there,” Alex said, interrupting her again.
Julie rolled her eyes. “She ran. The cops didn’t see her, I guess.”
“Who else was there?”
“Russ, Terri, and Penn. You met some of them at my birthday party.”
“Penn’s the one who was busted before for drugs. The one your dad was worried about. The one I told you to stay away from.”
She hung her head. “Yes.”
Alex sighed. “Hell, Julie, when are you ever going to learn?”
“But I wasn’t doing anything. I was just there. It’s so not fair. Couldn’t they give me some kind of test or something? Did they have to arrest me?”
“Haven’t you ever heard that old saying that you’re known by the company you keep?”
The tears began again. “Daddy’s going to kill me.”
“He should, but I doubt he will.”
“I don’t want him to know. Please don’t tell him. You won’t, will you?”
“On one condition.”
Her eyes, so big, so blue, so frightened, perpetuated the myth that she really was as naive and sweet as she appeared to be. But Alex knew better. Sure he loved her. And yes, he wanted to protect her, especially from her own bad judgment, but she was already too wise in the ways of the world and far too sophisticated and indulged for her own good. Right then he was torn between feeling sorry for her and wanting to turn her over his knee and give her the spanking she should have had many years ago.
“What’s the condition?” she asked.
“You have to promise me nothing like this will ever happen again.”
“It won’t! I promise.”
“Because if it does…” He paused to let his next words sink in. “I’m not going to come to the rescue.”
She nodded solemnly. “I understand.”
“I hope so.”
A few minutes later, the same duty cop came back. He opened the door without knocking, said, “Time to go, Missy.” His pale eyes met Alex’s gaze. “You can wait out front.”
It was almost ten o’clock before bail was set. By then Alex had drunk half a dozen cups of bad coffee and had a whale of a headache. The only good thing was that because this was a first offense for Julie, it only cost Alex a thousand dollars to get her released.
“Where’s your car?” he said as they claimed her belongings—a leather shoulder bag and a black leather jacket.
“I didn’t drive last night.”
“Okay. I’ll take you home.”
As they walked out the front door into the morning sunshine, a photographer, who had been sitting on the concrete wall bordering the building, jumped up and snapped a couple of photos before Alex could react.
“Oh, God,” Julie said. “Now Dad will find out for sure.”
“Maybe you should just tell him yourself.”
Julie, too miserable to be aware of anything except her own situation, slumped into the passenger seat of Alex’s truck and never even asked why he was driving it instead of his Navigator.
“You want to stop and have some breakfast on the way?” Alex asked.
Julie shook her head. “I’m not hungry. Just pull into the drive through at the first Starbucks you see and get me a giant latte, okay?”
It was eleven-thirty before he finally dropped Julie at the house. She insisted he let her out at the foot of the drive so no one would see him. “They expected me to spend the night at Phoebe’s,” she said.
“Like I said, if I were you, I’d tell them the truth.”
She nodded, leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, bro,” she whispered.
“I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.”
He watched until she disappeared around the bend of the driveway, then took off.
It was only as he was driving back to Jansen that he remembered he hadn’t called P.J. as he’d said he would. He flipped open his cell phone, ready to make the call, then wondered what he was going to say. Could he afford to tell her the whole truth?
Damn, he hated this subterfuge. Above all, he wished they could be completely honest with one another.
Soon, he thought. If things between them continued to go well in the next few weeks, he should be able to tell her the truth about himself by Thanksgiving.
And with luck, they might even be married by Christmas.
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