Chapter 11 #2
“No clue who it is?”
“Nope, but I expect it to be bombshell-level.”
They used that term to describe a major celebrity laying the groundwork for a split that would dominate the headlines for weeks, if not months.
“I’ve prepared all the usual retainer paperwork and worksheets for you to take with you.”
“Thank you. You’re the best.”
“I know, right?”
He chuckled at her saucy grin.
“At three thirty, you’ve got…”
As Mattie reviewed the rest of his day, Julian nodded at all the right moments, but he wasn’t thinking about the day ahead or the bombshell-level client or the unsavory possibility of his parents getting back together.
All he could think about was Isla and how sweet she’d been the night before as he’d gone on and on about the history of the house and the music.
Even though she’d had no idea what he was talking about, she’d listened attentively and had seemed to enjoy their time together as much as he had.
Her gorgeous face kept popping into his mind, which had him rattled in a way he rarely was when it came to women. He never allowed himself to get hooked on one, but for some reason, he found himself looking forward to seeing her again.
After Mattie left him alone to get to work, he texted Jackson, asking him to file for a restraining order against Stacey.
He included her social media accounts as backup for the request. Julian chose not to look at them himself, because what did he care about whatever she was saying?
It didn’t matter to him, but he’d take the necessary steps to shut her down.
Oh shit, Jackson replied. I’ll get right on it.
Thanks.
With a long day of work ahead of him, his parents’ potential reconciliation weighing on him and annoyance at Stacey’s nonsense, the last thing he should’ve been thinking about was Isla Santana, how their first night in the rental had gone and how long it might be until he could see her again.
Isla had fallen asleep listening to one of the playlists Julian had sent her.
She was in love with Mama Cass Elliot singing “Dream a Little Dream of Me,” Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” and Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold,” among many other beautiful songs that’d helped her understand more of the LA music history Julian had told her about.
The era had a definitive sound that she’d immediately connected with.
She could see why he loved it so much and couldn’t wait for the chance to tell him that.
When she opened her eyes and saw it was after eight a.m., her first thought was for the kids, who were sleeping in for the first time ever. And then she realized her phone was vibrating on the table next to the bed with a call from Mrs. Ventura.
“Hi there.”
“Isla, Gabriel is next door raising a ruckus, screaming your name and the kids’ names. I don’t know what to do.”
She sat up and pushed her hair back from her face.
“Stay in your apartment and call the police.”
“Are you sure? He needs help. There’s got to be something else we can do.”
“There isn’t. He’s refused all offers of help for years now.
“Okay. I’ll make the call. Do you want me to keep you posted?”
She thought about that for a second. “No, thank you. It doesn’t involve me anymore, but I’ll always want to hear from you about other things.”
“Okay, honey. Remember that I’m happy to sit with the kids any time you need me.”
“I so appreciate that.”
“They’re such sweet kids. I’m happy to do it.”
“I’ll text you soon.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
“Please stay safe. Don’t confront him or anything like that.”
“I won’t. Don’t worry.”
After they said their goodbyes, Isla ended the call and sat perfectly still for a long time, thinking about Gabriel and what would happen to him and then reminding herself that he was no longer her concern.
He couldn’t be. She had to focus on putting her own life—and her children’s lives—back together, separate from him.
She sent a text to Julian. My neighbor called to say Gabriel is at the apartment screaming for me and the kids. I encouraged her to call the police, since there’s really nothing else that can be done unless he chooses to get help.
He wrote back when she was in the bathroom brushing her hair. Sorry to hear. I’m glad that you and the kids weren’t there when he returned. Can I do anything for you?
So many things, she thought with a small smile, even as she was filled with sadness for Gabriel, for the family she’d once hoped to build with him and for the fact that such a nice, sweet, sexy man like Julian had crossed her path at the worst-possible time.
I’m okay, she replied. Will work on the documents today and get them back to you ASAP.
Let me know when you’re done, and I’ll pick them up on the way home.
She replied with a thumbs-up, encouraged to know she’d get to see him again soon. That was good motivation to get the voluminous pile of documents completed soon.
Isla got breakfast for the kids, and when they were settled in to watch Paw Patrol, she began working on the packet that Julian had dropped off.
Every time she thought of him, her skin tingled with awareness, as if he were still sitting across from her, looking at her with those gorgeous, compassionate brown eyes.
Her soon-to-be ex-husband was probably getting arrested at the place they used to call home while she completed the initial paperwork to file for divorce, and what was she thinking about?
Her divorce attorney and how cute he’d been while telling her about the history of the house and sharing his knowledge of the Laurel Canyon rock ’n’ roll scene that’d launched the LA music industry.
She’d lived in and around LA her whole life and had never once given a thought to how the city’s vibrant music scene had gotten its start.
Denny texted to check on them, and she updated him about the latest with Gabriel.
I was thinking I might have a chat with him. Any objections?
No, that’s fine, as long as you aren’t unkind to him. He’s obviously ill or addicted or something, and he should be treated as such.
I’ll talk to the cops about what we can do to get help for him.
That’d probably be more productive than talking to him. Thank you.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
She sent a thumbs-up, appreciating that he’d take time he didn’t have to help her—and Gabriel, whom he didn’t even like.
But he was doing it for her and the kids.
The sooner they got Gabriel into treatment, the sooner he could work on reclaiming his life.
And it was in the kids’ best interests for him to one day have a relationship with them.
Mila brought her favorite pink blanket with her when she crawled into Isla’s lap, pushing the papers aside as she went.
Amused by her daughter’s ability to get what she wanted without saying a word, Isla wrapped her arms around Mila’s sturdy little body and gave her a squeeze, incredibly thankful to be with her babies in a safe place, without the grinding fear of worrying about Gabriel coming home to ruin their peace.
Mila’s soft blonde hair brushed against Isla’s chin as she rested it on Mila’s head.
Theo was transfixed by Paw Patrol, as always, running one of his character cars along the coffee table as he watched the action play out on the screen.
“Mommy,” he said during a commercial. “When is Daddy coming over?”
Isla had been waiting for him to ask about his daddy, whom Theo loved despite the fact that he was sometimes afraid of him. “Come sit with me.” She held out an arm to him and put it around him when he’d relocated to the sofa. “You know how I told you that Daddy is sick?”
He nodded while Mila sucked her thumb, listening but not really understanding.
“He’s probably going to the hospital to get better, and that’ll take a while.”
“Like a week?”
“More likely a few months. Do you remember how long a month is?” They’d studied time in his preschool class that he could no longer attend out of fear of Gabriel trying to sign him out. Isla couldn’t imagine letting either of them out of her sight, unless they were with Denny or Mrs. V.
“Thirty days, but some are more and one is less.”
“That’s right.” Her little guy was so, so smart. He remembered everything he learned and was well ahead of his age group in development. “But it could be three or four months, which is like ninety or a hundred and twenty days.”
“That’s a lot of days.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Won’t he miss us?”
“He’ll miss us very much, especially you and Mila. But you can make some pictures for him that we can send to him. That’ll make him feel much better.”
“When we had to hide in the closet…”
Ugh. “Yes…”
“Was that because of Daddy’s sickness?”
She wanted to lie to him, but everything she’d read about situations like theirs encouraged telling even the youngest kids as much of the truth as the parent felt they could handle. “Yes, honey.”
“He broke our stuff.”
“He did.”
“Why did he do that?”
“It’s because of the illness.”
“Does he have a cold?”
“No, baby, it’s something in here.” She tapped on his head. “It’s hard to explain to little guys like you and Mila, but the most important things to know are that Daddy loves you, and you’re safe.”
“But we can’t go home?”
“No, honey, we’re going to be looking for a new home. Doesn’t that sound fun? We can find a place that has a playground nearby and maybe a pool.”
“I love the pool.”
“I know you do. But for now, we’ll stay here and catch our breath and figure out what’s next. Okay?”
“Okay.” When the show came back on, he squiggled free of her and went back to playing with the truck while the show had its usual mesmerizing effect on him.
Thank goodness for the Paw Patrol, she thought, as she had many times before.
Any time Theo was upset or out of sorts, a few minutes with his pals always made him feel better.
She glanced down at Mila, who was about to doze off for her late morning nap, so Isla gathered her up and stood to put her down in the portable crib she’d brought from home.