Chapter Thirty-Nine Julia
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Julia
“I can’t believe we’re getting married in three days,” Julia said softly as Harry came to join her on their balcony.
Technically, for the next few days it was her balcony; Harry was staying one floor down, since his mother insisted they have separate rooms until they were officially married.
Julia had long ago stopped protesting how ridiculously old-fashioned this was.
Three days from now it would be irrelevant, anyway.
Harry stepped behind her and curled his arms around her torso, pulling her close. “I can’t wait to start forever with you.”
“I’m glad I scared you into proposing,” she ventured, testing a joke.
Harry leaned down to drop a kiss on her brow. “I was scared,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. Still, I’m sorry that it was on an airplane. I had a very romantic proposal planned, you know.”
This was the most that they had discussed the proposal since it happened.
Julia hadn’t exactly meant to avoid the topic, but thinking about the proposal inevitably made her think of the events leading up to it.
And she didn’t like being reminded of his affair with Valentine, or how close she’d been to leaving Harry for good.
Already, when people asked about Harry’s proposal, Julia caught herself recasting the whole thing in more romantic terms. She made it sound spontaneous and passionate rather than fraught, as if Harry couldn’t hold in the words a moment longer, instead of proposing to keep her from running off.
It didn’t matter anymore, did it? Their story was about to have a very happy ending. It deserved an equally happy beginning.
Tomorrow, Thursday, the three hundred wedding guests would begin arriving.
Most had been invited by the Ellenes, of course.
Julia’s contribution to the guest list was glaringly pitiful: aside from her aunt and uncle; her boss, Lucy; and Abby, she’d only invited a few friends from Harvard.
She hadn’t asked to include any of her old coworkers from the cruise line.
They might feel uneasy at a wedding this grand, and besides, Julia doubted that they could afford the overseas flight.
Nestled in Harry’s arms, she stared at the waves crashing on the beach.
Afternoon sunlight danced over the water’s surface.
It made her think of another beach, another sunset—in Greece, the evening she had first met Harry’s family.
Strange to think that was less than a year ago.
The Julia of that night had been so clueless, wearing her thrift store clothes and thinking she could hold her own among the wolves.
That Julia wouldn’t recognize the Julia who stood on this balcony, in a printed Alémais dress that draped off her tanned shoulders.
“I still can’t believe this beach.” She gestured to the white sand, dotted with lounge chairs and striped peach umbrellas. “All the Georgian beaches I’ve seen have grainy yellow sand, with seashells crunching under your feet. I always thought that this kind of powder was only in the Caribbean.”
“It was kind of overkill, I agree,” Harry muttered.
Overkill? Perhaps his family had imported the sand when they built the resort. Instead of asking, Julia leaned her hips back into Harry’s. As always, the simple sensation of him holding her, the sheer physical closeness, steadied her heartbeat.
“Should we go surfing tomorrow before all the guests arrive? I saw that the hotel offers lessons.”
Harry laughed, a gruff sound that seemed to rumble deliciously through her body. “You just want to remind me that you kick my ass at surfing.”
“I wouldn’t say I kick your ass,” Julia admonished. “It’s not much of a competition when you refuse to try.”
“I told you, the ocean is not where I’m strongest. But I’m happy for you to surf,” Harry offered. “I’ll stay at the resort and deal with whatever wedding nonsense pops up.”
“You must really love me, to jump on the wedding-planning grenade.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” Harry ran his hands down her sides in a way that sent a little zing of pleasure through her.
“We could surf in Sicily,” Julia pointed out.
The morning after the wedding, they would leave for their honeymoon in Italy, where they planned to rent a car and drive down the Amalfi coast. Julia had insisted on a relaxed itinerary: they were staying at locally owned bed-and-breakfasts, exploring coastal towns along the way.
Not a single five-star restaurant or Ellene hotel for the whole two weeks, until they ended in Taormina, Sicily, at a small private villa.
“Or we could hike,” Harry suggested instead. “There are some great coastal trails along the shore.”
“What if we hiked Mount Etna?” Julia asked. “I’ve always wanted to hike an active volcano, and that’s one of the safest ones. Even if it is supposedly where Zeus buried Typhon.”
Harry let out an amused breath, though his grip on her arms tightened almost imperceptibly. “Sometimes I forget how many Greek myths you know.”
“Just the ones that were painted all over vases.” Julia smiled and closed her eyes, relishing the sensation of sunlight on her face. “Consider yourself lucky I’m not dragging you to Pompeii while we’re in Italy.”
“I’ll do Pompeii. I’d like to see Tour Guide Julia in action,” Harry teased.
She chuckled, grateful that they could joke about their former life, their old minimum-wage jobs. “Be warned, I take my art tours very seriously.”
For a moment they just stood there, nestled together in the afternoon quiet. Then the angry whine of an electric saw cut through the softer sounds of ocean and wind.
Julia glanced down at the team of uniformed staff who were setting up enormous metal poles, complete with a polished floor that would be installed several feet above the grass.
The tent’s walls and ceiling weren’t made of white fabric, as Julia had imagined, but some kind of clear PVC that made the structure look permanent.
“I thought we were getting a wedding tent. Not a wedding palace,” she said softly.
“I know it’s a lot,” Harry said ruefully. “My parents are welcoming you into the family the only way they know how. That is, with a lot of excessive fanfare.”
It was just a wedding, Julia reminded herself. Just a party. Then she and Harry would spend the rest of their lives together, building their own family, their own traditions.
She twisted around to look up into Harry’s handsome face. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He glanced up at the sun, almost like an old-fashioned sailor telling time by its position. “Should we head down? I bet Percy is already at the bar.”
The three of them had decided to get drinks before the rest of the family gathered for dinner. A casual family meal, Tara had called it, though Julia was wise enough, now, to realize that it would be anything but.
As she and Harry walked through the lobby, she was startled to see a familiar figure near the check-in desk, dressed in baggy Harvard sweatpants, a hot-pink neck pillow slung over her shoulder.
Trust Abby to still wear the free sweats that they were given as freshmen, Julia thought fondly. She started running across the lobby.
“Julia!” Abby exclaimed into their hug. She stood back, taking in Julia’s outfit. “Okay, who is this fashionable stranger and what has she done with my best friend?”
“Trust me, I’m still me. I’d rather be wearing those sweatpants you’re rocking,” Julia whispered.
Abby laughed, then turned to hug Harry, too. “Congratulations, Harry. I’m so excited for this weekend.”
“We didn’t know you were coming today,” Harry said warmly. “Once you’re checked in, please join my family for dinner. We’d love to have you.” He gestured across the lobby toward the hotel bar, where Percy was already waiting, a martini glass in hand. “I’ll let you two catch up.”
“What a surprise, having you come early!” Julia fell into step with Abby as she approached the front desk. “You must be so jet-lagged.”
“Didn’t I tell you? I flew over a couple days ago, to take a few work meetings in DC,” Abby explained.
“And you know how I am about weather tracking. When I saw the coming storms, I decided to cancel today’s meetings and hop on an earlier flight.
Wanted to make sure I didn’t have any travel issues. ”
“Coming storms?” Julia frowned. “It’s perfectly sunny outside.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing! Probably just a little bit of rain that will blow through overnight,” Abby assured her. “It’s definitely not a hurricane. Don’t worry.” She wasn’t wholly convincing.
A concierge waved Abby forward. Julia lingered as Abby put down her credit card, was issued a room key. “By the way,” Abby said softly while the concierge was busy typing, “you’ll never guess what I heard while I was in DC.”
“What?”
“Preston Hayes is completely finished.”
Julia stared at her best friend blankly. “What do you mean, ‘finished’?”
“He was discovered accepting bribes from foreign governments, in exchange for arranging meetings with his father. It’s a federal crime,” Abby said solemnly, “to sell access to a United States senator.”
“How did they…”
“His trial is coming up, but he might go to prison.” Abby shook her head. “I mean, we all knew he was an asshole and idiot after what he did to you, but I never imagined he was an asshole on this scale, you know?”
Julia glanced across the lobby to where Harry sat with Percy. She couldn’t help thinking of what Harry had said back in London. I need to mess with Preston. Was it possible that Harry had a hand in this? That he’d uncovered what Preston was up to and leaked the story to the press?
So what if he had? Preston had spent his entire life acting as if the rules didn’t apply to him. Maybe it was time he paid the consequences.
“Enough about Preston,” Julia declared. “Now hurry and change so we can get this weekend started. I’ve missed you.”
Still, as she and Abby crossed the lobby toward the elevator banks, Julia stole another glance at Harry. She had thought she understood what it meant to be an Ellene, but it kept on surprising her, how truly vast and powerful their influence was.