Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Julian stared at the text from Isla for so long, his eyes watered.
Was she sending him some sort of subliminal message with her song choices?
Why was it that he could picture that cozy little scene from “Our House” with her staring at the fire for hours and hours next to him on the sofa while he played love songs for her?
Why did he ache at the simple sweetness of the scene with the two of them playing the central characters?
He was losing control of his emotions, which normally would terrify him. But with her, he couldn’t bring himself to care as he wrote back to her.
I’ve got a whole lot of love songs I could play for you next to that cozy fireplace. Let me know when and where. I’ll bring the firewood.
Before he pressed send, he read and reread the message.
If he sent it, he’d be opening a door to something he’d spent his entire adult life trying to avoid.
Who was he kidding? She’d thrown that door wide open just by walking into his office and saying hello.
It also wasn’t lost on him that if she was sending him not-so-subliminal messages, Denny must’ve told her why he moved her case to Jackson’s care, which meant his friend approved.
Julian sent the message.
And then he waited.
And waited.
And waited.
But it never showed that she’d read it.
He thought about reaching out to Denny to check on her, but did one unanswered text warrant such a dramatic response?
He hoped she was okay and was disappointed that he hadn’t heard back from her. Maybe her kids had needed her, or she’d crashed early for the night.
Anything was possible.
And he needed to stop acting like a sixth grader in the throes of first love, watching his phone like it was the most important thing ever invented.
He put the phone on the charger and went to bed but tossed and turned as he wondered why she hadn’t read his text and replied.
It was probably because he’d taken her commentary about the music and turned it into something she didn’t want.
“For fuck’s sake,” he said to the dark room. “Stop acting like an idiot and go the hell to sleep so you can function tomorrow.”
The tossing and turning continued for most of the night, until his alarm provided a rude awakening. His first move was to check his phone. Nothing from Isla, but he had a text from Jackson.
Isla’s husband is in the hospital. His lawyer said it’s serious. He asked for Isla last night, and she went. He has a brain tumor that’s caused all the behavioral issues. His parents are back in the picture and taking him home on hospice.
“Oh my God,” he said as he reread Jackson’s message.
Julian wanted to go to her, to offer comfort and anything else she wanted or needed.
The need to be there for her was so great, he had to actively talk himself out of going right to her house.
The last thing she needed in light of this new catastrophe was him coming around looking like an opportunist in the midst of her tragedy.
But, oh, how he wanted to go to her.
He had another full day ahead of him, but none of that mattered as the biggest internal struggle he’d experienced in years raged inside him.
Go to her. Go to her. Go to her.
Do not go to her. Do not go to her. Do not go to her.
Go to her. Go to her. Go to her.
Julian had to force himself through the motions of getting ready for work—knot tie, don suit jacket, tie shoelaces, go downstairs, get keys, leave house, drive by Isla’s street without looking her way, stop for coffee, go to office.
If he stayed focused on each task as it stood before him, he could resist the maddening desire that pounded through him like an extra heartbeat.
Since he was starting to run late, he’d text Denny to check on her as soon as he got the chance.
At the office, Julian said, “Good morning,” to Hector and handed Mattie her latte like it was any other day, even as the storm continued to rage inside him. What Isla was going through had nothing at all to do with him, and he needed to stay the hell away from her.
Keep telling yourself that until you listen to your own advice.
Mattie brought her coffee with her when she came into his office to go over the schedule. “Everything all right?”
“Yes, let’s get to it.”
She gave him the rundown of client appointments, Smithson trial prep with Jackson, who’d be his second chair, and a late-day court appearance on behalf of Beverly Hills grandparents seeking visitation with their young grandson.
Just another day in family law paradise, dealing with people who’d once loved each other warring over money and possessions and children who were treated more like commodities than human beings.
Some days, like today, the entire business turned his stomach.
Mattie ran through his packed schedule for the day. “Julian, are you listening to me, honey?”
“Yes.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a million miles from Wilshire Boulevard. What’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You can lie to some people, but never to Ms. Mattie. I know my boy. Something is weighing heavy on your heart.”
He made a face at her. “I wish I worked somewhere that no one knew me outside of work.”
“Well, today is not that day, young man, so why don’t you tell me what’s wrong so we can find a way to fix it? And while you’re at it, wipe that scowl off your handsome face. It’ll give you wrinkles.”
Julian laughed at that last part.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“There’s a woman.”
Her brows lifted in surprise because he never talked to her about women. “Is there now? Tell Mattie everything and leave nothing out.”
“We’re at work, not a middle school cafeteria.”
She waved away the comment. “Speak.”
“It’s ridiculous. Not worth our time.”
“Julian Michael Remington, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never once seen you in a dither over a woman, so whatever’s going on, it must be a big deal. Pretending otherwise will only make everything worse.”
“What even is a dither?”
“Stop stalling and start talking.”
“I’ve met her three times. It’s nothing.”
“Oh, my darling, is that what you’re telling yourself? How’s that working out?”
“Your sarcasm will be remembered on your next performance evaluation.”
Her left brow lifted toward her hairline. “The one I write for you because you can’t bear to evaluate the best assistant you’ll ever have?”
“Yes, that one.”
She laughed. “Talk to me, honey. Tell me what’s going on. I want to help.”
Because she’d never breathe a word of anything he told her, and he knew she wouldn’t give up until he told her the truth, he said, “It’s my friend Denny’s sister, Isla, who was here the other day.”
“Oh.” Mattie sat back in her chair as she smiled. “She’s lovely and such a wonderful mother. Those kids were sweet as could be and so polite.”
“I had the strangest reaction to her.”
Her eyes went wide all of a sudden. “That’s why you turned her case over to Jackson? Oh my heavens. This is serious!”
“No, it isn’t. It’s not serious, and it’s never going to be. It was a momentary distraction. I’m dealing with it.”
“Are you?”
“I am.”
“How are you dealing with it?”
Julian glanced her way. “By pretending everything is fine when I’ve been told she’s going through something major, and it has nothing to do with me, even if all I want to do is go to her and offer to help in any way I can.
Since I can’t do that, I’m here, and it’d be good to get to work so I can think about something other than what she’s dealing with and how incredibly upset she must be. ”
“Oh, honey… What a dilemma.”
“It is indeed, but I’m staying put. I’ll let Denny know I’m here if they need anything, and I’ll get on with my day.”
“I’ll leave you to it and remind you I’m right outside the door if you need me.”
“I take great comfort in that every day, but especially on days like today.”
She stood to leave. “Point of order, Counselor. There’s never been a day like today.”
After dropping that truth bomb, she left the room and closed the door behind her.
Julian took the time to text Denny to say he’d heard that Isla’s husband was ill and that he hoped she was doing okay.
Then he forced himself to give work his full attention, beginning with a call to Carson about how he was making out with finding Cresley’s ex.
“Hey, man, I was just going to call you. This guy Beckett is a piece of work.”
“How so?”
“He’s actively dealing something… Not sure if it’s meth or coke or possibly heroin, but he’s not even trying to be sly about it. He’s just going about his business like it’s totally legal and nothing to see here.”
“Jeez.”
“He’s also keeping tabs on her and the kid.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s watching the school and the house, following her when she leaves. You know, the usual stalker stuff. I’ll send you a full report by the end of the day, but you need to get this guy into court ASAP and slap him with an RO.”
“Your thoughts mirror mine. Thanks, Carson.”
“You got it.”
Julian ended that call and sent Jackson a message, asking him to schedule an emergency hearing in Cresley’s case.
Then he called her and got her voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Julian Remington. I have some updates for you, one of which is that Marlon is following you, so I have to urge you to be cautious.
Don’t let on that you see him, and if you feel unsafe in any way, contact the police right away. Give me a call when you can. Thanks.”
He hated having to leave a message like that on her voicemail, but he wanted her to know as soon as possible what Marlon was doing.
His phone vibrated with a text from Denny.
Dude… he’s got a brain tumor that’s going to kill him.
Soon. Isla is shocked, of course, and sad that he didn’t listen to her and others who urged him to seek medical care.
He called the parents he hadn’t spoken to in years, and they’re taking him home on hospice. Effed-up situation all around.
Julian read the text twice, trying to process what Denny was telling him.