I knew that wasn’t true from my conversation with Vicki. Or at least I knew Beth had been pregnant. Her current status wasn’t my concern.
“The cancellation of the wedding wasn’t sudden,” I said, speaking to both of them. “It was overdue.”
“Your mother means,” Dad offered, “what is happening here.”
Turning to Van, I took in his confident grin. In that second, I saw the man he told me he could be. I saw the qualities in his eyes. Van would let me handle this, he’d encouraged me to handle this, yet at no time was he unprepared. There was a calm calculation in his expression. He may have been surprised by Skylar’s presence, but he was nonetheless equipped to handle wherever this discussion went.
If I were to guess, I’d say that Van was prepared before he offered the invitation for their arrival.
Who I currently saw was the man whose memoir I had been hired to write. He was the wolf on Wall Street, the predator who seeks out wounded companies and businesses, and the man at the top who alone determines the fate of those within his sights.
“What is happening here,” I offered, sitting near the edge of the leather chair, “is cosmic irony. I came to Ashland without knowing the identity of the man advertising for someone to pen his memoir. I didn’t expect to end up in a blizzard or a snowbank. I certainly didn’t know who rescued me.”
“Or where the white ribbon would lead,” Van added.
Seemingly ignoring Van’s comment, my mother pleaded, “Julia, Skylar asked to come with us to apologize to you in person and explain that Beth isn’t carrying his child.”
I shook my head. “Thank you, Mom.”
“For?”
“For speaking for Skylar. I’ve noticed his inability to say more than a few words since his arrival. He’s fortunate to have you here to articulate his feelings.”
“I-I’m not—”
“Oh, but you are.” I stood. “It’s what you do. You probably have already conveyed my feelings in return. However, you forgot to ask me what they are. Tell me, am I willing to listen to his apology for sleeping with my best friend?” Before she could respond, I went on, “My thoughts regarding Beth’s pregnancy state is that regardless of her current status or” —I turned toward Skylar— “the accuracy of the text message I read, it doesn’t matter.”
“Right,” Mom said. “It doesn’t. You have a life in Chicago, not here in this godforsaken wilderness.”
I suppressed a smile, thinking of the cabin. Van’s home wasn’t a godforsaken wilderness. If only my mother could see the cabin. My attention stayed on my mother. “No,” I said matter-of-factly. “What doesn’t matter is Beth’s pregnancy status or what it was. It matters that she claimed Skylar was the father and he didn’t deny the possibility.” I turned to my ex-fiancé. “If returning the engagement ring and our subsequent conversation at the hotel didn’t make it clear enough for you, I don’t accept your apology. We can’t work this out.”
“You don’t know the truth about him,” Skylar said, his chin pointing toward Van.
Shaking my head at his pathetic attempt to attribute blame, I looked at Mom. “You said there’s more to marriage than love. You’re right. There’s trust and fidelity. I won’t walk into a marriage without those fundamental elements.”
“And yet,” Mother replied, “you agreed to marry Mr. Sherman.”
Van was sitting back, with his ankle resting on one knee. His eyes moved from Mother to me and back as if he were watching a tennis match, waiting for the game-winning point to be scored.
“Yes, I did.”
“When?” Dad asked.
“We haven’t set a date.”
“So you plan to live here in sin?” Mother asked.
Red sin.
I didn’t try to hide my smile. “I have my own suite.”
“If you expect us to believe...” Skylar spoke from near the windows.
“I don’t give a shit what you believe,” I said, my volume rising. “It’s none of your business. You lost all rights as far as I am concerned when you screwed my friend.” I took a breath. “But I won’t lie to any of you.”
Van lowered his leg, sitting forward.
“I’m more content with Van than I ever imagined I could be, ever. In the short time we’ve been together, he’s shown me that I have a voice.” I turned to Mom. “One you’ve successfully stifled over the years.”
“You’re only twenty-four years old,” she said.
“I’m legally an adult. I can make my own decisions and I have.”
Dad motioned for me to sit. “You’re right.”
“I am?” I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.
“You can make decisions. Just because you can make these decisions,” Dad said with an element of calm my mother lacked, “doesn’t mean that they’re the right ones. That isn’t your fault. You don’t have all the information on Mr. Sherman. He has a reputation he may not have shared with you.”
“I’m sure there are many things about Van that I don’t know.” I turned toward him, seeing his gaze that I’d felt from my first word. “And I’m willing to take a lifetime to learn them.”
“Did he tell you that he’s now secured another five of the remaining fifteen percent of Wade shares?” Dad asked.
I turned to Van.
Without a word and from the expression on Van’s face, I knew what my father said was true. I wanted to question Van and learn the details, but I also refused to expose a possible kink in the security of our snow globe to my parents.
“You didn’t know, did you?” Dad asked.
“I didn’t,” I replied honestly. “However, I have Van’s word that my wishes will be upheld regarding Wade. I trust him and his word.”
“My father doesn’t,” Skylar said. “He sent me an interesting file on Mr. Thomas.”
The use of Van’s original last name had little effect on Van, and more on me. “I don’t care what your father said. He wanted to sell Wade. He was going to take control while we were on our honeymoon. By the time we returned, he could have the entire company liquidated.”
“That’s not what Dad was going to do,” Skylar said, coming closer. “The shares he had lined up were our wedding present. I knew about them, Jules. It was only a secret from you. Your parents knew. Mom and Dad wanted to give us overarching control. Our future would have been secure. Now, Sherman owns twenty-six percent—one more percent than the Butlers. Why would he do that?”
A wedding present?
Before I could reply, Van spoke to my father. “What is your concern, Mr. McGrath?”
“My concern is for my daughter.”
“Your daughter is in good hands, I assure you. What is your concern regarding Wade Pharmaceutical?”
Van
“We want it to survive. My grandfather created—”
Mr. McGrath’s hand came up, silencing his wife. It was a welcome gesture, but one I was surprised she heeded. “For the record,” Julia’s father said, “I’m still concerned about Julia. She’s young and you’re...”