Finding Julia. Desiree Holt
laughed, a knowing look on her face. “You might convince someone else but I know you too well. So what’s the word today? Are we set for the rollout campaign?”
“I’m going up there for three days next week,” Julia said, suddenly busy with folders on her desk.
Claire cleared her throat. “Uh, Julia? What did Harry say about the signing?”
“He’s confident we can complete this by tomorrow.” She mentally crossed her fingers.
“I sure hope so, kiddo. If he does, I’ll be treating you to a celebration like you’ve never seen before.” Claire went over to her friend and hugged her tightly. “Enjoy yourself next week, Julia. You’ve earned some happiness.”
But that afternoon a phone call from Harry gave her a prickle of unease.
“Charles is out of town until next Tuesday,” he told her.
“What?” Her fingers tightened on the telephone and she felt as if someone dropped a chunk of ice into her stomach. Did he think this was some kind of punishment? That he could dangle the carrot forever until she changed her mind? “Harry, I—”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted. “I said everything to his attorney. But I promise you I’m over it. I muscled the attorney and told him to quit mucking around or we’d go back to court and ask for even more.”
Julia allowed herself a tiny laugh. “At least it’s nice to contemplate. I’m getting tired of this, Harry. We don’t really need his signature. It just makes it a lot neater. I know we agreed it would be best if we could just do this without any more ripples, but it’s getting ridiculous. If he refuses to sign let’s just get a date, go to court, and get the judge to sign the decree.”
Harry’s sigh carried to her over the connection. “We could, Julia. Keep in mind, though, we’re up against some formidable opponents here. You’re not a stupid woman by any means. You know how things work. I like to think I have clout, but Charles’s law firm practically owns the judicial system in the state. They dump a ton of money into political campaigns. People do ‘favors’ for each other. A judge could stall it for any number of trumped up reasons.”
“How nice that we have a system where the judges have to run for office.” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“Yeah, but they do. It’s a fact of life. Unfortunately.”
There was a soft knock on her door, it opened, and Claire poked her head into the office. Julia motioned her to come in.
She tightened her grip on the phone. “I guess that’s my punishment for making a poor choice to begin with.” Damn Charles and his privileged circle, anyway. Damn them to hell. “Listen, I’ll be gone for three days next week, but I’ll keep in touch by phone.”
“Try not to worry. I’ll do my best to close the deal while you’re gone.”
Not worry? Hah! She was sure she’d worry about it enough to give herself a stress headache and make her nerves raw.
“I didn’t mean to overhear, but Julia, I swear.” Claire shoved her fingers through her curls in exasperation. “I don’t know why the hell you let him get away with this. He’s a bully who enjoys yanking your chain.” She blew out a breath. “I thought Harry was a shark who ate people like Charles for breakfast.”
Julia fiddled with a pen on her desk. “He is. I’ve been trying to keep this as simple as possible. Not irritate him any more than he already is. To get it over with.”
“Simple? Over with?” Claire threw up her hands. “Honey, it’s been anything but simple. And it’s still not over. That asshole has practically made you beg for everything. What the hell has Harry been doing? He should have gone after him with a jackhammer.”
“Harry got him out of the house,” she reminded her friend, “and worked out the custodial arrangements for the twins the way I wanted them. Charles can’t just pop in and ask for them on a whim.”
Claire made an unladylike noise. “The only reason he even takes them on his appointed days is because he knows it pisses you off. He doesn’t have to worry about winning the Father of the Year Award.”
“He can’t stick his nose in my business any more, either,” Julia said, aware how defensive she sounded.
“Yeah?” Claire studied her face. “How’s that working out for you?”
“Fine.” Her voice was flat and they both knew she was lying.
Julia worried all week, imagining any number of disasters. Every time the telephone rang, she expected it to be Charles ready to pounce on her for something. Or Luke changing his mind. Or Harry telling her Charles changed his mind. Not to mention the fact time dragged interminably as she counted off the days, one by one. She and Claire spent two days brainstorming the Hot Ticket campaign, an exercise which thankfully forced her to focus. The rest of the time, however, her mind was like a restless nomad, wandering into dangerous territory.
She was a bundle of nerves counting off the days.
Monday night, she packed and unpacked at least three times, then decided to take a bigger suitcase and throw everything on her bed into it. She simply couldn’t make a choice. She read the twins a story after dinner, tucked them into bed, and went to bed herself.
The next day couldn’t come soon enough for her.
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