Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Julian’s day had been a mess from start to finish.
In addition to getting Cresley out of lockup, he’d dealt with a screaming fight between divorcing spouses at mediation, and Bryan McDavid tried again to sign his sons out of school, a clear violation of the restraining order, which had led to a warrant for his arrest. That was still pending when Julian took the elevator to the parking garage.
He’d made sure Rachel and her sons were in a safe location before he left the office, promising to update her if he heard anything from the police, who were looking for Bryan.
Julian removed his suit jacket and tie and laid them out on the back seat.
As he drove home, he realized he hadn’t eaten since the bagel he’d had for breakfast and tried to think of what he had at home.
Not much. He hung a left onto Laurel Canyon Boulevard and headed up the hill, stopping at the Laurel Canyon Country Store to pick up something for dinner.
He thought of Isla as he parked in the lot.
When he’d told her about their historic neighborhood, he should’ve mentioned the prodigious history of the store, where Cass Elliot had once lived in the basement.
The Doors had included a mention of the store in their song “Love Street.” But he couldn’t tell her that or anything else while she was dealing with something so tragic and heavy.
Hopefully, he’d get the chance to tell her all about it someday.
The store was cramped and crammed with grocery items, and he was careful not to knock anything off the shelves as he made his way to the freezer section in the back. He rounded a corner and nearly slammed into a woman, managing to save her from falling by grasping her arms.
He looked down to find Isla looking up at him.
“Oh,” she said. “It’s you.”
“It’s me.” Julian drank in the sight of her sweet face, noting her eyes were rimmed with red and framed by dark circles. As she gazed up at him, her chin quivered, and her eyes filled.
Without thinking about implications or complications or anything other than whatever she needed, he put his arms around her and held her close while she sobbed. When she tried to pull back, he said, “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She sagged into his embrace.
Her hair brushed his face, filling his senses with the essence of her, an herbal-tinged fragrance that he wanted to memorize for time immemorial as hers.
Isla’s.
They had that back corner in the cluttered store all to themselves. For the moment, anyway.
He drew back to study her face, brushing her hair back and wiping away her tears. The need to care for her, to make things better, to fix the unfixable was as powerful as anything he’d ever felt. “What can I do?”
She shrugged as she shook her head. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
“Where’re the kids?”
“Home with my friend Mrs. Ventura. She came when she heard and said she’ll stay as long as I need her.”
“I’m glad you’re being well supported. What’d you come in here for?”
She looked up at him, blinked and cracked a small grin. “I don’t remember.”
So freaking adorable, in every possible way.
“You want to come to my house for a burrito?”
Nodding, she said, “I think I’d like that very much.”
“Pick your poison.” He gestured to the freezer case behind them. “Literally.”
Isla chuckled when she realized he was referring to the frozen burritos. “I’m partial to chicken.”
“As am I, and I’ve had this one before, so I can attest that it’s edible.”
“That’s a ringing endorsement.”
He was encouraged by her witty reply and hoped he could help alleviate some of her terrible stress. “Do the kids need anything? Is that why you stopped here?”
“No, I remember now. I wanted a Mountain Dew and a few minutes to myself, so I told Mrs. V I was running to the store.”
He grabbed four burritos from one case and two bottles of Mountain Dew from another and cradled them in his left arm.
“Let’s go.” With his right hand on her back, he guided her toward the front of the store, where a young guy named Travis was working the register.
He wore a tie-dyed Grateful Dead shirt and had shoulder-length blond dreadlocks.
“Hey, Julian, how goes the divorce wars?”
“Brutal as usual. How’re you doing?”
“All good in the hood.”
“My friend Isla is having some car trouble. Would it be okay if she left her car in the lot for a bit until we can get back for it?”
“Sure thing, no prob. What kind is it?”
“It’s a red Hyundai SUV,” she said.
“Got it. I’ll let everyone know.”
He rang up Julian’s items, and when he tapped his card to pay, Isla said, “I wanted to pay.”
“I’ve got it. All set.”
Travis handed him the paper bag with their purchases. “When you guys playing out again?”
“The Whisky next weekend. We’re pumped.”
“Oh, that’s cool. I’ll be there.”
“Bring your friends.”
“Will do, man. Take it easy.”
“You do the same,” Julian said as he guided Isla out of the store and to the passenger seat of the G-Wagon, making sure she was settled before he shut the door, stashed the bag in the back seat and got into the driver’s side.
When he glanced over at her, she was staring straight ahead, so he reached over her for the seat belt and secured it for her.
“Thank you,” she said with a small smile. “I’m such a mess.”
“No, you’re not. You’re upset, and with good reason.”
“I should just go home. The last thing you need to be dealing with is a weepy, heartbroken, unpredictable woman.”
“I promised you a burrito, and I’d like to deliver on that, if you’ll let me.”
“Are you sure you don’t have better things to do?”
“I’m very sure.” Though he’d found himself with a rare free night, he would’ve canceled anything and everything to have this time with her.
Even when she was weepy, heartbroken and unpredictable, she stirred him in a way only one other woman ever had.
And while that should’ve terrified him, strangely enough, it didn’t.
Rather, it left him feeling exhilarated, even though he knew she was in no condition for anything like exhilaration from him.
Tonight was about food and comfort and nothing else.
If he was thrilled to be with her, she didn’t need to know that.
Not now, anyway.
Isla texted Mrs. V to tell her she’d connected with a friend and was going to have dinner with him if everything was under control at home.
We’re doing just fine. Take all the time you need with your friend.
Thank you. Give the kids kisses for me and tell them I’ll tuck them in when I get home.
Will do.
Isla sent heart emojis.
She couldn’t believe she was in Julian Remington’s fancy SUV on the way to his house. Could this day get any stranger? When she’d looked up in the store to realize he was the one she’d crashed into, the profound feeling of relief had made her legs feel wobbly.
She’d had one thought and one thought only: He would make everything all right.
How and why she’d known that, she couldn’t say, but every instinct she had was telling her the evidence was irrefutable.
Julian was beautiful and brilliant and kind and talented. He was the real deal, and he was taking her home with him to feed and comfort her when he certainly had better things he could and should be doing.
After the past few weeks, months, years of turmoil, she would give herself this moment with him, carved out of the changing landscape of her life, and simply be with him for as long as he’d have her. She would draw comfort from his rock-solid presence and then go home better for having known him.
During this moment of respite, she’d not think about Gabriel or the past or what the immediate future might look like. For right now, for tonight, it was the two of them and a couple of burritos, and, strangely enough, that was all she needed.
They went up into the hills, so high her ears popped before he brought the SUV to a stop in front of a smoked-glass double garage. He pressed a button on the dash, and the door went up to reveal a small black sports car parked on the other side.
He pulled into the garage, cut the engine and shut the door, sealing them off from the outside world.
Isla released her seat belt and got out of the car, following him inside into a gorgeous kitchen. “Oh wow. This is so nice.”
“Thanks. I did it mostly myself. Took almost two years.”
“Why’d you do that?”
He waggled his brows. “So someday I could tell a beautiful woman that I did it myself and impress her.”
“I hope that goes well for you when you get the chance to do it.”
Over his shoulder, he flashed a grin. “I just did, and I feel like it went pretty well.”
Isla couldn’t stop the gurgle of laughter or the tearful response that followed.
Julian handed her a tissue.
“I feel guilty for thinking something’s funny. I feel guilty for being happy to be here, with you, when Gabriel is dying. I feel guilty for being relieved that our marriage is over, because I never would’ve wanted it to end this way.”
“He knows that, Isla. Everyone knows that.”
“I tried so hard to make it work.”
“You were fighting a battle you couldn’t win—and so was he.” Julian put a bottle of Chardonnay and another of rosé on the counter, raising a brow in inquiry.
“Do you have vodka, by any chance?”
“I do. How do you take it?”
“With ice would be good.”
“You got it.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear as she wondered what she must look like and decided it was probably better not to think about that.
He’d said she was beautiful, which was a lovely thing to hear.
“I read this thing online a while back… about how men can be super weird about seeking medical attention even when they know something is wrong. It’s, like, a thing… ”
“My dad is very proud of the fact that he hasn’t been to a doctor in twenty-five years.”
Her eyes went wide. “Seriously?”