Chapter 32
Julien kept telling himself the long hours he’d been putting in at the office would eventually lessen after the first initial transitional months.
It was a complex process, disassembling a publishing imprint.
First steps had been taken regarding Squire’s closing.
Authors had been contacted, and multiple conversations were in the works regarding ISBNs and reverting of book rights.
Certain contracts had needed to be canceled.
Distribution platforms had all been updated, and Gena was working on removing future book listings from retail sites.
That was only the tip of the iceberg. There was still a long list of things to do, and everyone’s workload would be heavy for the foreseeable future.
On top of that, there had been a lot of shuffling going on across all the imprints.
Unfortunately, he’d had to give some of the Squire staff notice of job termination, but others had been interested in linear shifts to a different imprint or even transitioning to an entirely different department once things with Squire were settled.
There were a lot of meetings with leadership and department heads. A lot of emails and memos to keep up with. Julien felt like he’d been glued to his phone.
If he’d thought his dad would be at the office less after making his retirement announcement, he would’ve been sorely mistaken.
John King had taken up real estate in the space directly to Julien’s right.
Wanted to make the turnover go as smoothly as possible, he’d said.
All Julien could do was grind his teeth behind a forced congenial expression.
That, and hope all these extra hours they were putting in meant his dad would be home basking in his retirement at an earlier date on the calendar and that the added stress wouldn’t do his health any permanent harm.
Unfortunately, the longer days meant Julien hadn’t had any time to visit his favorite librarian in Little Creek.
They’d texted throughout the day here and there and talked on the phone in bed at night before going to sleep, but it wasn’t enough.
He drifted off each night unsatisfied, still hungry for her.
He wanted to hold her in his arms. Kiss her sweet lips.
He wanted to be able to look into her eyes and know for sure that she was okay with his decision regarding Squire and her books.
She said she was, but Julien feared she was just putting on a brave face and pushing down the more uncomfortable emotions.
But he couldn’t really know for sure, could he?
If only one of the editors he’d contacted on her behalf would get back to him.
And to top everything off, she’d told him about the uncertainty regarding the future of the children’s programs in Little Creek and her position at the library.
He’d been livid when he’d heard there was even a possibility that the money he’d given her wouldn’t be used how they’d both expected it to be.
He was angry with the trustees, but he was also angry with himself.
He should’ve thought to put some stipulations on its endowment in writing.
Instead, he’d been too desperate to think straight at the time, and his lack of forethought had let Martha down a second time.
A simple restricted donation made directly to the library would have saved her from all of this, and he hadn’t even stopped to consider it that day in his office.
After talking with her, he’d immediately tasked Tomiko with getting him Ryan’s number at the regional library. That phone call had been promising. As had the others he’d made. The fight hadn’t been won yet, but there was at least a battle plan now in place.
“Turn right,” his GPS instructed.
When Martha had invited him to a little get-together with her friends, he’d been quick to agree.
Not only was he desperate to see her face-to-face, but this was a perfect opportunity to prove that they weren’t from two separate worlds.
Or that, even if they were, they could reside in both.
His goal was to charm his way into her friend group.
He had plenty of experience using charisma to seal deals. This shouldn’t be any different.
A few minutes later, Julien pulled up to a small house on the edge of town.
He killed the engine and grabbed the pink box of macarons he’d picked up from a French patisserie near his office.
There were a few other cars in the driveway and parked along the street, so it looked like he was the last one to arrive.
He was just raising his hand to ring the doorbell when the door swung open.
“You made it,” a woman said, stepping aside to give him room to enter. “I was afraid something was going to come up at work and you’d cancel at the last moment. I’m Hayley, by the way. One of the other librarians.”
Was it his imagination or did Julien detect a hint of challenge in her words? Or was it accusation? “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He presented the macarons to her. “Thank you for having me.”
Hayley lifted the lid, taking in the rows of pastel cookies. Her gaze rose back up to his. “Tell me the truth. Is this an ingrained good manners hostess gift, or are you trying to bribe your way into our good graces?”
Surprised laughter shot from Julien at her unfiltered candor. “Can it be both?”
She plucked a light pink cookie from the box—classic strawberry buttercream, if he remembered correctly—and took a bite. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she made appreciative noises as she chewed.
“Okay, these score you points, I’m not going to lie.” She swallowed, then grinned. “But the real test is yet to come.”
Julien clapped his hands together in show. “I’m ready for it.”
Martha drifted into view. As soon as he laid eyes on her, something shifted inside him. That off feeling that had been hovering around him all week that he couldn’t explain suddenly settled into a feeling of rightness.
She lifted her head, and their gazes connected.
A small smile curved her lips. Julien searched her features, looking for any sign to indicate her well-being.
Of their well-being. He knew every relationship faced conflict and that it was important to learn how the other person acted in hard times and how they ultimately resolved those differences, both personally and as a couple.
He just hated that the strain had come from his own hand and that they were having to face it so early in their relationship.
He reached his hand out, holding his breath and hoping she’d take it without even a second of hesitation. As soon as her dimpled fingers brushed against his palm, his heart felt lighter. He tugged her to him and wrapped her up in his arms.
“I’ve missed you,” he confessed into her hair.
“I’ve missed you too.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
Somewhere in his periphery, he registered Hayley walking away, but he didn’t pay her any attention. Instead, he closed his eyes and breathed Martha in.
“How are you?” he asked. There was so much more meaning to the simple question than the words conveyed on the surface.
Martha seemed to understand what he truly wanted to know. She leaned back just enough to be able to look up into his face. “I’m okay.”
He searched her eyes, seeking anything that would belie what she was telling him. He wanted her to be truthful with him and not don a mask. Even if that truth was painful. “Are you sure?”
She took a moment to gather her words, her gaze going distant before coming back to land on him again. “I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t hurt or disappointed.” She paused here, the barest of smiles tilting her lips. “But I also think you made the right decision.”
Julien exhaled tension that he must have been holding in his muscles because he sagged into her.
“And I appreciate that you were willing to have a difficult conversation with me. I know that wasn’t easy.” Martha rubbed his back.
His head dipped until his forehead rested against hers. “It wasn’t, but only because I knew what I had to say was going to cause you pain, and I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“That’s life though, isn’t it? No one comes out unscathed. And, unfortunately, I doubt this is the last time either one of us will hurt the other, no matter how unintentionally it happens. Happily-ever-after isn’t the destination. It’s the journey.”
Julien nuzzled his nose against Martha’s, his hands splaying along her spine as he pressed her body more firmly into his. “I like the sound of that.”
“What?” she breathed out, the warmth fanning along his lips.
“Happily-ever-after.” He pressed his mouth to hers, kissing her like he’d been longing to do all those hours he’d been cooped up in his office, dreaming of her in his arms like this.
A throat cleared nearby. “We’re ready to eat and start the game if you two can pry yourselves away from each other.” Hayley smirked at them, then sauntered back out of the entryway.
Martha took a step back, licking her lips. Pink stained her cheeks. “We should probably . . .” She grabbed his hand, turned on her heel, then led him into the open-concept dining/living room area.
A smorgasbord of food covered the dining room table. There was a vegetable tray, an assortment of chips and dips, sliders, chicken wings, and his pink box of macarons at the end.
“Hayley is serious about game nights,” said a fully tattooed man Julien had yet to meet. The man held out his hand. “I’m Tai, Hayley’s cousin.”
“Julien.”