Chapter 2 - Juliana
Three years later
I knew my marriage was over that day.
What I didn’t know was how little I’d really known my husband back then despite years of marriage.
He’d been paying Addison’s rent for six months before I caught him.
That was just the tip of the iceberg and nothing compared to the foul side of him I’d soon see.
My parents didn’t understand my decision not to give Chad a chance to redeem himself, and it made everything ten times harder.
I didn’t know that my period would arrive while I was sitting on Liam Culver’s cream-colored office sofa before the paramedics arrived.
They didn’t take me to the hospital. Liam drove me home instead and then he drove me to my sister’s place in Berkeley once I’d packed my things.
He seemed to know when to speak and when to be silent, a rare gift in the face of someone else’s worst day.
I didn’t know we’d laugh about parts of that horrible day a couple of months later when Liam convinced me to have lunch with him. He made me smile when I didn’t think I was capable of it anymore. He also struck a deal directly with me instead of my soon-to-be ex-husband’s firm.
I didn’t know that I’d met my new best friend that day. I didn’t know the divorce would take nearly a year and turn very nasty. I didn’t know a lot.
But, I knew I still wanted a baby someday, just not with Chad. And, I knew that old biological clock would keep on ticking even if I never want to marry again.
“You have options, Juliana. There’s plenty of time to find a partner if you want it that way,” my therapist reminds me.
Becca is the best. Sixty years young with closely cropped gray hair and kind brown eyes that compliment her soft copper skin, I love how down-to-earth she is.
Like my friendship with Liam, I don’t know what I would’ve done without her the past three years, especially when my nature tends to constantly question everything even in the best of times.
“I’ll be thirty-six next month, and I don’t want another long-term relationship.”
“He burned you badly, but don’t close the door completely on romantic love.”
I know Becca wants me to be brave, but it’s easier said than done.
I believed in our love story. I thought we had it all until Chad trampled on our vows and did his best to destroy me when I couldn’t overlook that.
It left me so broken. I can’t give someone that sort of power over me ever again.
“I’ve dated,” I offer, attempting to sound as if I agree.
“A handful of men you had lukewarm interest in.”
She’s got me there. I’ve dated divorced men who could’ve all been the same man.
Sparks? Zero. I was a sounding board for them, a replacement for their ex-wife, and they were someone to sit across from in a restaurant in dresses that felt too tight.
Date night has become synonymous with chore day.
“I’ve told you about… Liam’s place.”
She chuckles at the mention of Sable. Liam’s more than a compassionate rescuer of damsels in distress and an executive at his family’s enormous development company.
He’s part-owner of San Francisco’s most exclusive sex club.
Their motto is ‘where debauchery and indulgence are the name of the game’ and they mean it.
I think the day I found out I gaped at him for twenty minutes straight and felt foolish for not having a clue.
I hate being caught by surprise. Surprises have become bad things in my opinion.
The first time I visited Sable as a guest, I was nervous and Liam hovered over me like a mother hen.
I never bothered talking to another man with him being there and so charming.
But, his friends and business partners invited me back on a night I knew Liam wouldn’t be there.
I had to go. I needed to prove to myself I could at least be intimate with a man again after my ex shattered my trust.
“Being intimate again, even with strangers, is a step forward in some ways but have you made up your mind that it’s all you want?” Becca asks.
I don’t answer that loaded question. “I have friends,” I argue. “Friendships can be some of our most important, lasting relationships in life.”
“Yes, friends can be an incomparable blessing. I’m just asking you to give the other some thought over the coming weeks, okay?”
After hugging her goodbye, I push my way through the heavy door leading to the street and have to pause to avoid getting run over by a stroller. “So sorry!” the breathless young mother calls over her shoulder as she rushes on, pushing her little bundle of joy somewhere in a hurry.
“No problem!” I reply, but I know she didn’t hear me. She definitely has no clue that my ovaries are practically turning themselves inside out with the primal need to procreate simply because of a blue floral sun hat on a little head.
I want a baby . And, I have no partner to make one with. Human biology can be terribly inconvenient that way.
Liam calls, temporarily banishing the longing I can’t do much about today. “ Hel-loooooo, Ms. Davenport,” he purrs when I answer. He’s such a flirt on the phone.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Culver. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I’m sitting here looking at this mock-up a brilliant architect left on my desk earlier when I was in a meeting and realized I needed to confer one-on-one with this genius at once to clarify a few things.”
When I left Chad’s firm to work as a freelance architect, I figured I’d be lucky to design a hot dog stand.
Now, I’m Culver Development and Construction’s ace contract architect for smaller builds.
We’ve collaborated on multiple projects the past couple of years.
I know a large part of that is thanks to Liam but I hope some of it has to do with my skills.
“Was there a problem with my design? I can be there in-”
“Jules, are you kidding me? It’s exactly what we’re looking for. I just want to have dinner with you tonight.”
Smiling into the phone, I happily agree. “Sure thing. I’ll meet you at Twisted Anchor around seven.”
Near Fisherman’s Wharf, Twisted Anchor is a tavern known for its seafood, local ales and amazing weekend brunches.
It’s got a laid-back maritime vibe but isn’t overly touristy.
There’s usually a contingent of office workers present after five but, as the night wears on, it tends to skew more toward the under-thirty crowd.
I’m closer in age to the owner than any of the servers, but Liam introduced it to me, and it remains our favorite hangout for a relaxed meal.
It also happens to be a favorite spot for Liam and his friends to find a hookup but, since we’re having dinner, I shouldn’t have to watch the player on the prowl tonight.
“She’s pretty,” I comment when I walk over to the table where Liam’s waiting for me.
He jumps to his feet, kissing my cheek and pulling out my chair. “Who?”
I smirk, glancing toward the server who had been dropping off his beer as I walked in… and practically drooling over him. “The way she was staring at you, I hope you’ve got some protection handy.”
He chuckles and shrugs. “Nah, she’s too young. She’s obviously new here. I ordered you a Paloma and had to assure her that the bartender would know what that was.”
“You always remember my favorite,” I sigh, sinking down to peruse the menu .
“Three years, Jules. I know plenty of your favorites,” he murmurs. “I’m buying tonight, so no stubborn arguing like last week.”
“You’re the stubborn one,” I tease. “I guess I’ll let you pay this time.” Not only is Liam a successful executive and club owner, he’s been loaded since birth.
“What are your Friday night plans?” he asks, scanning his menu.
“Babysitting for Wendy and Nell.”
“Again?”
“It’s their anniversary.”
“I thought their anniversary was last month.”
“It’s the anniversary of their first date.”
“I’ll bet you reminded them of that so you could have Amelia to yourself again.”
“You bet I did,” I reply, mischievously.
Every time I hold my niece I feel that procreation craving magnified by eleven.
I think my sister and sister-in-law are starting to wonder if I’ll refuse to hand Amelia back over someday.
I can’t stop sniffing her and giggling to myself when I see her, a helpless victim of Baby Fever.
“Here you go, ma’am,” the server says, arriving with my cocktail. She fumbles her tray setting the drink down because she’s too busy trying to catch Liam’s eye, poor girl. Can’t blame her. He’s ridiculously good-looking. “Would you and your mom want a few more minutes to decide?”
I glance around, irrationally searching for my mother, before it hits me that she was asking Liam that question.
Wow. We’re eight years apart, not eighteen.
Talk about dumping ice water as well as the bucket over someone’s head.
Sure, she’s young. Probably no more than eighteen or so, but my face still turns red with embarrassment. Do I look that old?
Liam’s face is turning red, too, but in another way. “What did you just say?” he clips, glaring at the hapless serving girl like he’s going to tear her apart.
“I, uh…” She glances back and forth between us, her face completely draining of color. “I wasn’t… I’m sorry. I didn’t real ly look at… I was…” She sends me a pleading look, her color returning at an alarming rate as she goes from ghostly pale to tomato red in seconds flat.
“Tell the manager I’d like a word with them,” Liam barks.
“No, there’s no need for that. Let it go, Liam.
” I don’t want a scene, especially one that would be as embarrassing for me as the server.
“I’ll have the salmon salad, dressing on the side.
He’ll take the beer-battered cod with chips,” I say, pushing the menus her way and grasping Liam’s hand to keep him from seeking out the manager himself.
The server bobs her head and darts away. I have a strong feeling someone else may take over our table. “How’d you know I wanted fish and chips?” Liam mutters, the anger slowly draining away.
“It’s been three years since we met. I know a lot of your favorites, too.”
He grins and flips our hands, so he can hold mine. “You’re far too kind to people sometimes.”
“And, you’re far too hot-headed sometimes.”
“Someone brings it out in me,” he growls, staring deep into my eyes.
Ooh. That’s odd. His growly voice just gave me the nicest tingling sensation. In my ovaries. It’s different from the ‘I want a baby!’ ache. This one was more of a ‘I want to make a baby or at least try to!’ ache. What day is my cycle at? My hormones are all over the place.
But, Liam is my friend and, while I love him, I’m not meant to be in love with him or any other man. He’s much too young (and way too hot) to ever want me.
And, to really drive the point home is the unavoidable truth that Liam is a player. And, a player is the very last sort of man a woman who’s been cheated on should ever fall for, so Team Friendship is where it’s at.