move, especially once I saw all the work that needed to be done. But now I look forward to spending time here again, doing this exact thing with my sister as we watch Imogene run through the fields and jump into the lake, like we did years ago.
“Don’t even try to dismiss it. I saw that shit with my own eyes. Hell, I felt it. The electricity…” She shivers dramatically. “It was strong enough to power all of Atlanta for the next century, Wes.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Why?”
“It’s just not.”
“How did you meet?”
“She fell in a crosswalk during a torrential downpour and was about to get hit by some asshole in a pickup truck. I was in the coffee shop around the corner from the office getting Omar his coffee and saw it all happen. It was stupid, considering I could have been killed, but no one else seemed to care. Hell, some people were even recording it.”
“What the hell is wrong with people?”
“I ask myself that on a daily basis,” I sigh as I bring the bottle to my lips and take a swig, the drink refreshing in the muggy air. “So I ran out, pulled her out of the way, and carried her into the coffee shop. We talked for a few minutes. Then she left.”
“But she gave you her business card. Obviously, there’s more to the story if she did that.”
“I asked for her number.” I chuckle, smiling at the memory. “Shouted it so everyone could hear.”
“Really?” She tilts her head, lips pinched together. “That doesn’t sound like the Wes I know. The Wes who is the antithesis of spontaneous. The Wes who certainly wouldn’t draw attention to himself like that.”
“I don’t understand it, either, Jules. It’s like some other power took control and forced me to blurt out those words. So she gave me her business card.”
“And?” Her eyes light up in anticipation of the story I’ve kept from her this past week. A story I thought I’d keep to myself the rest of my life. I assumed Londyn would eventually fade into the recesses of my brain, apart from a memory I’d smile at every time I passed that crosswalk and remembered the day I pulled a woman to safety. But now our paths have more than just crossed. They’ve collided.
“I texted her to make sure she got home safely.”
“That’s it?”
“Afraid so. End of story. Until today.” Avoiding her curious stare, I peer ahead, unusually preoccupied with Zeus as he marks his territory on a nearby tree.
“You’ve got a thing for her,” Julia states after a pause.
I roll my eyes, but don’t look directly at her. She knows me better than anyone. She’d be able to tell in a heartbeat I’m not being completely forthcoming. Hell, she probably already knows that.
“I’ve told you repeatedly. I don’t have time for a relationship. Not with taking over the firm.”
“You have time to oversee this.” She waves her hand around the massive property I now hold the deed to.
“Oversee,” I emphasize. “Nash and Londyn will be doing most of the work.” I take another long pull from my beer, exhaling on the finish.
“But you’ll be checking in. Occasionally helping out. Working closely with Londyn.”
I shake my head, knowing all too well what she’s getting at. “All the more reason why I shouldn’t get involved with her. If it doesn’t work out, and I guarantee it won’t, it would be awkward.”
“Ah-ha!” Julia slams her beer onto the step. The liquid fizzes over the bottle neck, but it doesn’t faze her. “I knew it!”
“Knew what?”
“You just admitted it!” She nudges me, her laughter filling the air.
“I didn’t admit anything.”
“You said it yourself. You don’t want to get involved with her because I hired her for the design job here.”
“I was speaking hypothetically, Jules. You’re only hearing what you want to. But for argument’s sake, let’s say you’re right. You’re not, but let’s say you are. It would still never work out.”
“Why do you say that?”
I narrow my gaze on her. “You know why.”
Julia edges toward me. “Because she’s black?” she asks quietly.
I pinch my lips together, shrugging.
“I didn’t take you for someone who cared about that kind of thing,” she remarks somewhat harshly. “Hell, you almost married Brooklyn, despite the fact she’s not some trust fund debutante. I thought that’s what you wanted. Someone real.”
“And I do. Thanks to you.”
She blinks, leaning back a little. “Me?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Before you dated Nick, you were desperate for Mom to accept you. Participated