Where Rivers Part (10 page)

Juliet leaned back, enjoying the memory. She also remembered walking back to the car and seeing her parents walk with her dad's arm around her mother's shoulders. After they'd tucked her back inside the car, she looked out the open window. Her dad patted her mom's bottom and whispered in her ear. She'd laughed and slapped at his hand. Told him, “Later, Bennett, after Juliet is asleep.”

Juliet shifted the box of photos onto the sofa and pulled the afghan from her lap. “You need a refill on your iced tea?”

He glanced at his nearly full glass and shook his head.

Juliet grabbed her glass and headed for the kitchen. When she returned, she slipped back into place next to him. “What's that one?”

He held up a photo of her in a little white lab coat. The one he'd taken of her that day he came to her classroom. “This is my
favorite photo of you. Pretty, smart, and mouthy. But it was that fierce intensity I loved most.”

Juliet stole a glance at him, puzzled. She wasn't used to this side of her father—the one generous with praise. Losing her mother had somehow softened his sharp edges. Despite feeling awkward, she reached out and squeezed his hand.

Their eyes locked, and a long overdue moment of understanding passed between them before they turned their attention back to the box.

“Who's this?” Her father extended a photograph of her with another little girl playing dress-up in her mother's nightgowns and high heels. Juliet took the snapshot, pulling it closer for examination.

She shook her head. “I don't know—” She stopped midsentence. “Oh,” she said, her heart thudding painfully. “Just a friend.”

Juliet watched her father to see his reaction. He scooped another photo from the box. “Oh, hey—here's one of you in your graduation cap and gown.”

Unexpectedly, her eyes burned with tears. She quickly blinked away the show of emotion.

Unaware, her father burst into laughter. “You probably don't remember back when you were six.” He held a different photo in his hand. “This is when you took my razor and shaved off an eyebrow. Your mom was horrified, of course. Even more so when you used a black marker and drew it back on.” He extended the photo so she could take a look. “You sure kept us on our toes.”

Like a robot, Juliet glanced at the photo and contrived an artificial smile.

No matter how
you cook an onion—one burp and the true flavor
appears.

She looked at her father, his attention already directed back to the box. Clearly, he didn't recognize the girl in the photo. But then, how could he? He'd remember her much differently.

“JuJu, is something wrong?”

Juliet stared at the photo in her trembling hand. “Why did you do that to Mom?”

He looked confused. “Do what?”

She looked up at him, challenging him with an angry silence. He noticed then—her eyes.

He sighed in desperate exasperation. “Juliet, those women. They meant nothing.”

She handed him the photo. “Even her?”

Despite the shame that suddenly shadowed his face, her father stared at her in quiet protest. But then, how could he possibly explain?

Her parents' wedding portrait sat perched on the nearby sofa table. Beside it, a blue hydrangea from the casket spray lay drying.

Juliet lifted her chin and glared back at her father with renewed disdain. “Did you think I didn't know?”

His jaw tightened. “It was none of your business.”

She looked at him with open-mouthed astonishment. “It was very much my business. She was my best friend.”

She watched him look down at the photo.

“I could hear Mom cry at night.” She shook her head. “She was never the same after—something inside her withered.”

Her father leapt from the sofa. He paced the floor like a caged animal, fighting for control. “I made a mistake. I—I never meant to hurt either of you.” He ran his shaking hand through his hair. It was clear her comments had hit the intended mark. “I spent years trying to make it up to her. To you,” he said. “I swear, I stopped drinking and never looked back.”

She looked at him, eyes blazing. “And she bought it.”

“She forgave me,” he corrected. “And I thought maybe you—”

Juliet tossed the afghan aside and pounced, her voice shaking with anger. “Yeah?” She moved to within inches of his face. “Nancy was barely nineteen years old. When you climbed in bed with my
best friend, who were you thinking of then?” Not able to stop, she added, “You killed Mom. And I'm not talking about last Sunday.”

Her father's face grew dark. He raised his hand as if to hit her.

She glared. “Do it.”

Suddenly, her father grabbed her shoulder with one hand. With the other, he scooped her purse and pressed it against her chest. “Get out.” He pushed her toward the door. “Get out of your mother's house.”

Breathless, she stumbled forward. Before she could catch her bearings, he took hold of her arm and pulled her to the arched door.

She tore from his grip. “What's the matter? You can't take the truth?”

“Get out,” he repeated. He opened the door and shoved her onto the landing.

Blinded with tears, she quickly made her way down the front steps and scrambled to her car. Inside, she stabbed the key in the ignition and started the engine. Sobbing, she put her Jeep in gear and tore down the street, sending a screeching sound into the hot autumn night.

At the light, her fist pounded the steering wheel.

She hated him.

 12 

J
uliet didn't drive home.

Instead, she headed downtown, to Greer's place. She stood in the brightly lit hallway and rang his doorbell and waited.

Showing up unannounced might be a bad idea, but she'd take that risk. She didn't want to spend the night alone in her condo. Not tonight. Even if it meant ignoring the small voice telling her Greer Latham could only be trusted so far.

She heard a click and the door opened.

Greer stood dressed in a robe over drawstring pants and leather slippers. He raised his eyebrows. “Juliet? What are you doing here?” He waved her in and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You okay?”

“Not really,” she responded, her voice breaking.

Greer visibly stiffened. “Well, I suppose that's to be expected, given everything you've been through.” He tightened the tie on his robe.

Suddenly, she regretted her decision. Greer wasn't one drawn to emotion. She'd made a mistake thinking she could find solace with a man known for his calculated approach to life. “Look, I'm sorry. It's late and it was silly of me to—”

Greer pulled her close. “Nonsense,” he whispered against her hair. “I'm here for you.”

Juliet pushed the reservations from her mind and leaned against him, drawn to the warmth of another human being like a moth drawn to flame.

She resisted telling him what had happened with her father. She kept news of the fiery exchange to herself, and the fact it left her broken inside—how much she'd wanted to move beyond the past, but couldn't.

She wouldn't reveal how fragile she felt, and alone.

Greer pulled back and gave her a worried frown. She could sense his mind at work and knew her face had betrayed her. He'd never seen this side of her. Matching his approach, she'd always been careful to guard against appearing anything but accomplished and skillful at handling her emotions.

“I'm okay, really,” she assured him, reining in her feelings. “I just missed you. That's all.” She followed him into the kitchen. “I need to get back to work. The walls are closing in, know what I mean?”

He grabbed a liter of coconut water from the refrigerator. “Want some?”

She shook her head and watched him extract a glass from the cupboard. “Speaking of, what have I been missing? At work, I mean.”

He filled his glass. “We've been focusing on the Water Circus fulfillment, and we're in talks to expand the original structure of that deal, which has us all crazy busy. But like I told you on the phone, there's no urgent need for you to return. The lab staff seems to have everything covered.” He screwed the lid back on the bottle. “But I get what you're saying. For some, work can often be a solace.”

Juliet stared at his leather slippers while he returned the bottle to the nearly empty refrigerator.

He was right. For people like them, work was as essential as air, the rest of life a distraction. She understood where she fit in the corporate world. Despite the politics, ambition and hard work would ultimately pay off. Simple rules. Juliet appreciated that.

Suddenly, Greer stood in front of her. He placed his hand on her chin and made her face him. “Look, it's okay to let your guard down. I care about you, you know.”

But not enough to come to
my mother's funeral.

Juliet pushed the intrusive thought from her mind. She and Greer weren't soul mates. Their attraction was based on mutual respect, an understanding that neither would burden the other with emotional baggage. Their affinity for one another didn't extend past complementary affection. That was all.

She'd be smarter than to reveal the depth of her need. The emptiness she felt inside. The fear that hole would never be filled.

Given that, she was as surprised as he when she looked into his eyes and pressed her lips against his, letting him taste the depth of her hunger.

“Stay the night,” he whispered, his voice husky. He took Juliet's hand and led her out of the kitchen. And she let him. Anything not to be alone tonight.

She squeezed his hand. “Uh . . . I'll only be a minute.”

He nodded and she headed down the hallway to his bathroom, with its wood-trimmed curved wall that served as a partition splitting the large space in two. On one side stood a walk-in shower lined with mosaic tiles in colors of the ocean and a full-height steam room. Juliet moved to the sink and vanity left of the curved wall. She leaned forward and examined her reflection in the mirror.

No wonder Greer expressed concern. Her face looked like a train had wrecked just south of her hairline—her eyelids red and swollen, blotchy skin. By all indications, she appeared not to have slept in days.

Juliet reached for a clean washcloth from the chrome rack mounted on the wall and ran the plush fabric under the water, then pressed the cloth to her eyes, letting the cold compress do its magic.

Greer Latham was a fierce competitor at work. He'd take every opportunity to position himself for success. Even if that meant not
always being forthcoming with every detail she wanted to know. But there were ways he'd been there for her over these past months. He was the one who urged her to meet with Alexa Carmichael, saying Larimar Springs would benefit from someone with her level of expertise. On a personal level, he'd extended friendship and a level of romantic involvement that met both their needs.

And tonight, he'd be there for her at a time when she most needed to matter to someone.

Greer rapped on the door. “You okay?”

Juliet pulled the cloth down. “Yeah, I'll just be a minute.” She quickly reexamined her face. Seeing little improvement, she shrugged and folded the washcloth, then laid it on the counter at the side of the sink.

That was when she noticed a pair of women's gold earrings.

Juliet swallowed. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, this time facing what she'd already known deep down. She bit at her lip, realizing no matter what she'd tried to tell herself, even her relationship with Greer Latham was nothing more than a lie.

She really was all alone.

 13 

P
lenty of things had changed in her life in the past weeks, but the one constant Juliet could count on was her work.

She stepped into the lobby of Larimar Springs Water Corporation. As far as she could tell, everything remained just as when she'd last walked through those double glass doors and to the parking lot—before that tragic Sunday a little over a week ago.

The lobby was brightly lit with overhead lighting competing with sun shining through massive windows lining the face of the building. Juliet's heels clicked against polished floor tiles as she walked toward the familiar circular reception area, where two large pots with tall kentia palms flanked the corporate logo on the wall behind where the receptionist greeted everyone. L
ARIMAR
S
PRINGS
—P
URE
Q
UALITY
, G
REAT
T
ASTE
.

“Morning, Dr. Ryan. Welcome back.”

“Thank you, Lindsay. It's good to be back.” Juliet shifted the weight of her attaché to her other hand. “Is Alexa in yet?”

Their receptionist nodded. “She arrived about an hour ago.” She lowered her voice. “She doesn't seem to be in a good mood.”

Juliet took pause. “Any particular reason?”

Lindsay shook her head, sending her blonde ponytail swinging. “No idea. But she's not always a morning person.”

Juliet nodded. “I've heard.”

The front doors opened and in walked a group of women from the accounting department, followed by Dale Frissom, vice president of operations.

After accepting their condolences over her mother's passing, Juliet proceeded to the executive wing, down the wide hallway and past Greer Latham's door. She was glad it was closed. Especially now.

She'd stood in his bathroom last night with the earrings in her hand, contemplating how she should react. She grabbed the doorknob with every intention of confronting him. In the end, she simply hadn't been up to another nasty encounter. The screaming match with her father had left her depleted, and she didn't trust herself. Losing it would serve no good purpose and might place their professional relationship at risk.

Instead, Juliet carefully repositioned the jewelry back in the original spot on the bathroom counter exactly where she'd found it, took a deep breath, and joined Greer in his living room. He was reclining on the sofa, his robe casually open at the chest. He stood. “What took so long in there?” He looked at her and frowned. “Are you all right?”

Juliet imagined his arms around another woman. Suddenly, her mind involuntarily jumped to her father. To that photo.

Her jaw tightened. “Look, I've got to go.”

“Now?” Frustration spread across his face. “You're going to drive home at this hour? Juliet, it's after midnight.”

Juliet held up her hand. “I know. I—I'm just not good company. Not tonight.”

“But you . . .” Greer let his sentence trail off. No doubt her expression left no question. She wasn't going to change her mind. Resigned to the fact, he rubbed at his barely shadowed chin. “Uh—do you need me to walk you out?”

She shook her head. “Of course not. I know the way.”

Greer looked relieved.

She didn't even know when he'd started being with someone else. Neither of them planned on deepening their commitment, but somehow Juliet believed the relationship was monogamous. Given Greer's history, she might never learn the truth.

Decades back, she'd sat on the floor of her pink bedroom and marched her plastic-legged Barbie doll down a toilet paper aisle toward an imaginary Prince Charming. A silly game played by a little girl who had yet to learn the harsh realities of real life.

Going forward, Juliet promised herself she'd no longer assume any man honorable and good. Not until Prince Charming proved otherwise.

The trick now was to effectively redefine her relationship with Greer and extricate herself from the personal side with the business affiliation left intact.

Every magazine she'd ever picked up while in a medical waiting room warned not to get in this predicament. Blending professional and romantic aspects of a relationship often proved as toxic as mixing chlorine bleach with ammonia.

She neared her office. Why had she foolishly believed herself immune?

“Hey, Dr. Ryan. This is a surprise. I was told you wouldn't be in this week.”

Juliet looked up. A young woman she didn't recognize sat at Tavina's desk.

The woman stood and extended her hand. “I'm Angela Silva. American Staffing sent me over to cover for Tavina. Her little boy wasn't feeling well this morning.”

Juliet hid her disappointment and shook Angela's hand. She was counting on Tavina filling her in on everything that had happened while she'd been away.

“I'm sure your assistant would have let you know. But no one expected you to be here this morning.” She gave Juliet a sympathetic smile and sat back down. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

Juliet nodded. “Thank you. Uh—my mail?”

“On the corner of your desk.”

Juliet thanked her and retreated to her office, shutting the door behind her.

“Well, you made it.”

She nearly startled out of her skin. She whipped around. “What?”

Greer rose from the sofa against the wall. “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.”

Juliet scowled, her heart pounding. Tavina would never let anyone in her office unattended. And she'd certainly announce if there was someone waiting.

As if reading her mind, Greer assured her the blame did not belong to the temp covering for Tavina. “I saw you pull into the parking lot and asked her not to say anything. I wanted to surprise you.” He pulled at his perfectly starched cuffs, then moved across the room and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Juliet turned, but too late. Before she could stop him, his mouth shifted to hers and he pressed himself against her. She could taste the mint gum she knew he always chewed after his morning stop at Starbucks. “Glad you're back,” he whispered. Boldly, his forefinger traced her jawline. “It was lonely here last week.”

Repulsed, she pulled back. The backs of her legs knocked against the coffee table strewn with food safety magazines. “Greer, what's gotten into you? Not here,” she snipped.

Suddenly, there was a quick knock and the door opened. Greer pulled back, but too late. Angela stood in the open doorway. Her eyes widened. Clearly, the temp had assessed the situation. “Uh—sorry for interrupting, but Alexa Carmichael is heading this direction.”

Juliet threw the girl a scalding look. “Next time, please buzz me.”

Greer brushed his sleeves. “Alexa moved the Monday morning meetings up an hour. She sent an email.”

Juliet scrambled to her desk, looking for her meeting file. “And I'm learning of this just now? I didn't get any email.”

Greer waited until Angela shut the door. “You left in such a hurry last night, I hardly had time to mention it.”

Juliet's phone speaker buzzed. “Dr. Ryan, Alexa Carmichael is here to see you.”

She glared at Greer. “Tell her to come on in.”

The door opened and Alexa entered, dressed in an off-white pantsuit with gold jacket buttons and teal shorty boots. A patterned scarf in the same shade of teal was tied at her neck. “Welcome back, Juliet. I hope you got the flowers the company sent.”

Juliet pulled her meeting file against her chest. “Yes, I did. Thank you so much.”

“You certainly didn't have to rush back,” Alexa assured her. “But now that you're here, we have a lot to talk about. Wasn't sure if you had a chance to learn of the meeting, so I thought I'd drop by to make sure you joined in.” She turned to Greer. “I arrived this morning to a message from Cyril. He's on board with the extra capital we'll need to service Water Circus's California and Florida operations.” She fingered her scarf. “But he believes the distribution costs are sorely miscalculated. We'll want to talk strategy. In the meantime, I've got the appropriate individuals reworking those estimates.” She frowned and checked her Rolex. “Why don't you both follow me on down to the boardroom?”

Alexa turned and headed for the door. Greer glanced back at Juliet. He ventured a quick wink before following.

Juliet grabbed the projection spreadsheets off her mail pile, slipped them inside the file, and hurried out the door as well. She passed Angela on her way, careful to avert eye contact, not wanting to expose herself to any judgment.

She could stomp Greer for his indiscretion.

Juliet had been back at work less than an hour, and already a mental checklist of to-do items was forming. First, she needed to contact Tavina, see when she planned to return. Her trusted assistant would be back at her desk soon, Juliet hoped.

Second, and more important, she needed to cut things off with Greer. In particular before he pulled that kind of stunt again.

“Dr. Ryan?”

Juliet turned. “Yes?”

The temp pointed. “Your skirt. It's, uh—your skirt's twisted.”

Juliet glanced down. The side hem was nearly in dead center front. She let out an angry huff, wedged her file under her arm, and readjusted her skirt so the seams were lined up properly.

She drew a deep breath. “Thanks,” she told the watching woman reluctantly. In a miscalculated afterthought, she added, “And that in there . . . That wasn't what it looked like. With Greer, I mean.”

The temp folded her arms on the desk and slowly nodded, looking eerily similar to a female version of Jiminy Cricket. Or maybe Juliet suddenly felt like Pinocchio.

“No problem,” Angela murmured. She directed her attention to the computer monitor, but not before Juliet caught a slight grin forming.

Juliet cringed. Had Alexa also noticed the skirt?

She gathered what was left of her professional dignity and hurried down the hall toward the boardroom. She needed to take Greer to dinner. Make a clean break and end this thing.

The sooner the better.