Jules Grayson
sat behind the mahogany desk in his office. “Why me?” He propped his elbows on
the leather desk pad.
“Trust me,” Tony
said.
Jules glared at
his friend. Trusting others might be someone else’s nature but not his. “Why
can’t one of the others be best man at your wedding?”
“They come in
pairs. Lauren doesn’t want her friend to feel out of place. You’re the only
bachelor left in our circle.”
And he intended to
stay that way for a long time. “Why do I have to meet her now? The rehearsal
will suit me.”
Tony grinned.
“Trust me. The trip will be worth the time. You’ll like Grace.”
Jules
straightened. He had once known a girl named Grace. She’d been the only female
to turn him down. Just thinking about her brought memories of a time and place
he didn’t want to remember. “I really don’t want to cross the river until the
trip is absolutely necessary.”
“Just for the
weekend meet and two days for the wedding. You can manage.” Tony rose. “What do
you have against the village?”
“Do you have to
ask? The group home. Remember how your father had to rescue me from that…that…her
accusations.” Jules grasped the steel letter opener. “I’ll come. Some time on
Saturday, do the meet and greet and leave Sunday morning.”
Tony paused at
the door. “There is a plus. To reach my house you don’t have to enter the
village.”
“Go. Let me
finish some work.”
“Saturday.”
“Yes and I’ll
bring the wine. Found a new shop.”
Moments after
Tony left Mrs. Jamison entered with a stack of mail. She dropped the pile on
his desk. “Buzz when you need me.”
“Will do.” He
slit the top envelope and groaned. Not what he wanted to see. Before leaving
for her honeymoon, Allie Blakefield, editor of Good Eatin’ had given him an
assignment. Having contracts signed wasn’t his usual chore for the Good
Magazine Group but he’d agreed. Allie wanted the owner of Sweet and Spicy
Cupcakes to agree to a feature.
With three
letters and four phone calls the woman owner’s answer had been no. A visit to
the bakery might do the trick. He didn’t want to go there. The bakery was in
the village he didn’t want to visit. Allie returned on Monday. Today was
Friday. He sucked in a breath. Never leave a job undone was his rule.
His hand hovered
over the phone. A call hadn’t worked. When Allie had asked he’d figured
obtaining the contract signature was a no-brainer. What bakery wouldn’t want to
be featured in a national magazine? He’d had a failsafe plan. Mail the
contract. Make a phone call or two. Answer questions. Contract signed. Hadn’t happened. The time had arrived to
use some personal charm.
Jules buzzed
Tony’s cell. The moment his friend answered, Jules’ gut clenched. Though he hated
asking he would. “Tony.”
“Are you backing
out?”
Jules chuckled.
“Not happening. Just wondering if I could stay tonight. I’ve some business fro
Good Eatin’ across the river today.”
“No problem.
I’ll call Lauren. What time will you arrive?”
“Around noon.
I’ll drop off my bag, see to business and swing back.”
“Good enough.
TGIF. I’ll be home around three. Good luck with your whatever.”
“Sales pitch for
Allie.” Jules disconnected. He shoved two copies of the contract in his
briefcase and tended to the rest of the mail. Nothing urgent. The clock chimed the half hour.
With briefcase
in hand he paused at his secretary’s desk. “I’ll be out of town until Monday.
Buzz my cell of anything needs to be handled quickly and I’ll check in with the
service. Take the afternoon off.”
“Will do.”
Jules waved.
When he thought about his destination his stomach churned. Though he didn’t
want to spend time in the village of his nightmares he had to finish the task.
Lately he’d grown to hate the investigative work. Was a career change possible?
He had other skills and knowledge.
After a stop at
his apartment for clothes he sat behind the wheel of his Jeep. He clutched the
keys in his fist. Waves of nausea assaulted him. He gulped a breath. He could do this. Two events had forced
his tip across the bridge to the Hudson River
village where he’d grown up. On the say he’d left he had hoped never to return.
Trouble comes in threes. Business and a
wedding weren’t the problem. Trouble existed in the memories of the place where
his life hand imploded.
His weekender
and briefcase sat on the passenger’s seat. He’d packed enough clothes for the
weekend.
You can do this. The words spiraled in a
never ending chain in his thoughts. He shoved the key in the ignition, revved
the engine and drove from the underground garage. As the vehicle emerged into
the light, Jules grinned. Something about being higher than the taxis and
sedans made him feel powerful. He wove through the lines of cars and headed for
the upper level of the George
Washington Bridge.
Hard rock poured from the speakers.
A glance at the
sky showed clouds gathering. Snow predicted meant an early covering to white
over city sidewalks and brown suburban lawns.
Not long after
hitting the Palisades Parkway
the feeling of doom he’d pushed aside leaped into his thoughts like the demons
kids feared lurked in closets or under beds.
He gripped the
wheel. The vehicle veered right. If he didn’t calm down he would run off the
road or into another car. He spotted the turnoff for an overlook and pulled
into the parking lot.
Get a grip.
Jules climbed
down and walked to the railing at the edge. He stared at the gray waters of the
Hudson. A
blustery wind slapped his face. Across the river he saw the skyline of the city
where he would rather be.
You can do this. The mantra ran through
his head. He revised his plans. He would drop his clothes at Tony’s, charm the owner
and obtain her signature. No sweat.
He strode to the Jeep and entered the flow of traffic. After leaving the
Parkway he sped along the winding road and finally found the turnoff into
Tony’s street. He reached the development and located his friend’s massive
house. He pulled into the circular driveway, grabbed the overnighter and walked
to the house.
Lauren answered the door. She held her nephew on her hip. Jamie burbled.
“Ju. In. In.”
“Hello to you.” He tapped the small boy’s nose and kissed Lauren’s cheek.
“I gather you were warned.”
“He phoned. Good to see you but you make me lose the bet.”
“How?”
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