Chapter 28
Julien followed the directions on the GPS around another bend in the curvy mountain road.
His hands were slightly clammy as he gripped the steering wheel, and he wished he could blame the queasiness in his stomach on motion sickness, but he knew the unmoored feeling inside of him was due to something else entirely.
On one of the brightest days of his career, the culmination of everything he’d worked toward his entire adult life, there was a single shadow.
One that grew and loomed more ominous with every mile he drove toward Little Creek.
Because he was going to have to tell Martha.
His dream might have been fulfilled that day, but the cost was high and it was personal and it meant Squire wouldn’t be publishing her books because Squire was closing.
His dad had finally been ready and willing to listen. To everything. Market analysis. Profit/loss history as well as projections for the next five years based off current numbers. In-house consolidation and restructuring visions. Julien’s vision for King Publishing moving forward.
They’d talked about Grandma, her life and legacy.
Julien had told his dad about going to Signal Point and how being there had reminded him of her instruction to look for signs from God.
In a moment of vulnerability, he’d asked his dad if they could honor Grandma by praying together.
His dad had agreed that that would be a legacy his mother would approve of.
There, in his office, they’d knelt and prayed.
Afterward, they both agreed that they felt lighter.
They’d also come to an agreement, finally, and had decided it was time to begin dismantling the imprint, no matter how much it hurt their hearts to do so.
They’d had Mrs. Schneider add the item to the agenda for the board meeting the next day, but the vote was only a formality.
The board had been pressing for closure for a while now.
How would Martha take the news? Before reason had a chance to overrule catastrophizing, he’d pictured her saying she wanted nothing to do with him.
That he’d hurt her more than his father had years ago and that she could never be with a man who didn’t support her dreams. Her feelings were hurt beyond repair, their first real date had been ruined before it had ever begun, and he would spend the rest of his life alone, wondering how he could’ve handled the situation better.
Thankfully his good sense hadn’t taken too long to step in.
Martha was reasonable. She’d been the one to ask him what he wanted back in Florida.
What he would do if his dad wasn’t playing puppet master.
She already knew that, if given the decision, he’d close Squire instead of trying to resurrect the imprint.
She’d be disappointed, but he didn’t think she’d react rashly.
Besides, even though Squire would no longer be publishing her books, he was determined to see them in print.
He planned to reach out to editors at other houses.
One of them was smart enough to want to snatch up the manuscripts and Martha’s creative genius.
It would happen. He was sure of it. She’d just have to wait a little longer.
He turned his vehicle onto a long driveway.
Where he’d been cruising within the forest a moment ago, now green pastures spread out on either side of him.
A horse lifted its head from where it was grazing behind a wooden fence to watch him drive by.
There was a stable at the end of one of the pastures, and Julien pulled over his Range Rover to park in front of it, per Martha’s instructions.
Turning off the vehicle, he stepped out and looked around. It was a nice piece of property. He could see why Martha liked living there.
He was just walking toward the open barn door when Martha stepped out. She was wearing a pair of fitted jeans tucked into knee-high boots and a chunky amber-colored cardigan perfect for fall.
“You look lovely,” he said as he bent down to give her a quick hug hello. He was affectionate by nature, and now that there wasn’t anything standing in his way, he planned on allowing himself small touches like these.
She blushed as she accepted his compliment and his quick embrace.
He looked around again, this time taking in the interior of the stable. It was clean and organized, with stalls for twelve horses and two closed doors that he would guess were the tack and feed rooms. A flight of stairs off to the side led to a second story. Martha’s apartment.
“I like your place,” he said, meaning it. There was a calm peacefulness about the property.
“Do you want a quick tour?”
He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “Sure.”
She walked backward a few steps until she stood in front of the first stall. A black horse poked its head over the door and sniffed at Martha.
“No treats today, Titus.” She stroked his velvety nose, then reached out and scratched behind one of his ears. “A lot of the horses love apples, but Titus’s favorite fruit is pears.” Martha introduced him to all the horses, offering a little tidbit about each one.
“Do you ride?” she asked.
Julien shook his head. “We never had horses on our property, as you know. Mom’s afraid of them. I remember doing a trail ride once at summer camp and thinking it was fun, but I haven’t had an opportunity to ride again since then.”
“Would you want to?”
He looked at the large animal in the stall behind her. The idea of being alone with Martha in the woods on horseback appealed to him. “Yeah, I think I would.”
She smiled softly at him, then led him up the stairs, opened the door, and stepped aside so he could peek in. “This is my place.”
He looked around because it seemed she wanted him to.
The space was small but cozy. A kitchenette just past the entrance had bar stools tucked up under the counter.
There wasn’t a dining room, so that must be where she ate her meals.
A love seat big enough for two people marked where the living room was, and a bookcase divided the space, with the bed set up on the other side along the opposite wall.
Julien turned to Martha. She was watching him intently, as if she was invested in whatever his reaction to her space was.
“Very nice,” he said.
“Does it bother you?”
He paused, not sure what she could be meaning. “Does what bother me?”
“That we’re from two different worlds.”
“Last I checked, we’re both from planet Earth. Men aren’t really from Mars and women from Venus, no matter what a book says.” He smirked at her, hoping his teasing would wipe away the slight crease between her eyes.
“You know what I mean. You belong to a group of people who have wealth and privilege. People who would own a place like this. I belong to the group of people who serve your people. I am, essentially, the help.”
“This isn’t Regency England, Martha. Upstairs-downstairs class distinctions don’t really exist anymore.”
“Oh, they definitely still exist.” She looked down at her feet and fiddled with the hem of her sweater.
Julien saw it, how their upbringing and the fact she was the daughter of his parents’ hired help, worried her.
For him, it was a nonissue. He hadn’t even considered it.
But, as she’d pointed out, that was probably his privilege talking.
And the fact he was worried about more imminent challenges—like telling her that her dreams of publishing with King were once again shattered.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat.
One hard discussion at a time.
Stepping close to her, he hooked a finger under her chin and encouraged her to lift her face.
“I realize only a person with money would ever really say this, but money isn’t the most important thing in the world.
And I think you agree. Otherwise you would have deposited that check I gave you into your personal account instead of handing it over to the library. ”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“I know you better than you think I do.” He looked deep into her eyes, letting himself get lost there for just a moment.
“Besides, one of the benefits of dating at our age is that some of the things that seemed like a big deal in our early twenties just aren’t anymore.
We’ve grown beyond our childhood and matured into our own people.
We know what we want now. You’ve already said you want me, and I think you know I want you too. ”
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, hoping his words and actions dispelled any misgivings she had. “Now, are you ready for dinner?”
She locked the door behind them, and Julien followed her down the stairs.
Now that he’d hopefully allayed one of her concerns, he weighed his options on when would be the right time to broach the news about Squire.
Should he jump into it right away like she’d done so they could talk about it and then hopefully move on to an enjoyable evening?
Or would the news spoil the whole rest of the night?
As much as he didn’t want to bring up anything that could dampen their time together, he couldn’t keep this from her either. It was too big. It was something, if left unsaid, that could turn into an even bigger misunderstanding. He didn’t want to start their relationship on that kind of foundation.
He opened the car door for her, then walked around to his side and climbed in.
He glanced over at her, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to put the conversation off any longer.
The least he could do was tell her when she still had the privacy to react authentically without the need to mask because of an audience.
Needing a physical connection, he reached over the center console and threaded his fingers with hers.
Martha sucked in a sharp breath.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
She sandwiched his hand between both of hers. “Yes, it’s just . . . well, this is slightly embarrassing, but I had a huge crush on you growing up. So in my mind I just squealed and said, ‘Julien King is holding my hand!’” She rolled her eyes. “Very mature of me, I know.”
“You had a crush on me?” His dad had been right. An inexorable amount of pleasure filled his chest.
“Very unoriginal, huh? Just me, living out the plot of Sabrina.”
“Am I Linus or David Larrabee in this scenario? Wait. Don’t answer that. Only one of them gets Audrey Hepburn in the end.”
She laughed, and the sound both lifted his spirits and pierced him between the ribs. No more putting this off. It was time to tell her.
“Martha, I need to talk to you about something that happened at work today.”
Her hand tightened its hold on his slightly before her fingers relaxed again. “I know this is going to sound like a strange request, but can we not talk about work? Just for today.”
Well, that was not at all what he’d thought she’d say.
“It’s just that everything between us has been about work since we reconnected.
The whole reason we’re back in each other’s lives is because of work.
Any time we’ve spent together, it’s been because of work.
And our careers are important, don’t get me wrong.
I’m not saying we should never discuss them.
Just, I thought it would be nice if, for tonight, we set work aside.
We explore us outside of our jobs.” She looked over at Julien, gauging his reaction. “Is that okay?”
Relief, he was ashamed to admit, washed over him.
Everything she said made sense. Their relationship from the time she’d stepped foot inside his office until they’d flown back from Florida had been tethered by a mutual work-related need.
He could see why she’d want to spend their first real date together discussing something other than manuscripts and acquisitions.
She was asking him for something within his power to give at a time when all he wanted to do was fulfill her heart’s desires.
Maybe it was the cowardly way out. Maybe he should tell her now anyway, despite her simple request. But why shouldn’t he wait?
The news would still be there tomorrow. And this way, they could have tonight.
“Of course,” he said. “It’s more than okay.”