Tracy Solheim - Foolish Games

Voices rose from the kitchen. It sounded like Annabeth and Patricia below. Julianne crept toward the stairs.

“I don’t know what happened, Patricia. I’ve seen him look at her like that before, but those other times, he had pure lust in his eyes. Today . . . today it looked like he actually hated her.” It sounded as if Annabeth choked out the last words.

Julianne swallowed around the lump in her throat. Will did hate her. And she couldn’t blame him. He’d trusted her with his secret when he hadn’t trusted anyone before. And look what she’d done with his trust. She silently trod down the stairs.

“Oh, come on Annabeth, it can’t be all that bad.” Patricia handed her friend a cup of tea.

“I’m afraid it is that bad,” Julianne said softly from the doorway.

Annabeth sprang from her seat at the table. “Julianne, will you please tell me what’s going on?”

“I wish I could, but I’ve already unintentionally divulged one of Will’s secrets. You’re going to have to go to him for this one.”

“For heaven’s sake! You’re just as cryptic as he is. Will isn’t talking. He won’t answer his cell or return my texts. One of you needs to tell me what’s happened.”

“Umm, I don’t think we need either of them to explain it to us anymore.” Patricia pointed to the television screen in the great room. She grabbed the remote to turn up the volume as the ten o’clock news began and an image of Will disembarking from a small plane filled the screen.

“Baltimore Blaze All-Pro linebacker Will Connelly is the first NFL player to be served with a subpoena to appear before the Senate committee investigating racketeering in the National Football League, stemming from allegations surrounding Bountygate.”

The three women watched in silence as a man handed Will an envelope, a disgusted Roscoe looking on.

“According to sources within the senate, Connelly has information that can substantiate the rumors of an alleged bounty scheme. Connelly’s testimony could make or break several lawsuits filed by players claiming to have been injured as a result of the scheme.”

Annabeth gasped.

“Sources close to Connelly say he will invoke his Fifth Amendment rights, a move that will ensure him an indefinite suspension from football, according to the league office. The hearing is scheduled for next week. No word yet from the Blaze as to whether Connelly will participate in the team’s mandatory mini-camp also scheduled for next week.”

The tears were running again down Julianne’s cheeks, their salt stinging her raw skin.

Annabeth whirled on her. “Dear God, Julianne, what did you do? When you said you sold your soul to your brother yesterday, did that include selling my son’s as well?”

Julianne had gone numb hours ago, so Annabeth’s words didn’t inflict the pain they might have. Wrapping her arms around her midsection, she stood there and let Will’s mother attack her, happy that he had someone in his corner.

“This is all a bunch of lies! How could you tell your brother lies about Will?” Annabeth demanded.

“I have to agree, Julianne,” Patricia chimed in. “Will and the Blaze are known throughout the league for their integrity and fair play. What would even make you think such a thing about Will?”

Julianne locked eyes with Annabeth. “He wasn’t with the Blaze when it happened.”

It only took a few seconds for the realization to dawn on Annabeth. With a sharply drawn breath, she plopped down on the sofa. “Oh no.” Patricia sat down beside her, taking her hand.

Julianne knelt on the floor at Annabeth’s feet, telling Will’s mother and Patricia the tale of his unintentional involvement in Bountygate. Resting her head on her mother-in-law’s lap, she tearfully recounted her phone conversation with Stephen.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. I was defending Will. I never would have said anything had I known what my brother would do with it. Stephen used me,” she cried bitterly.

“Hush, Julianne,” Annabeth soothed, gently stroking Julianne’s hair. “None of this is your fault.” She gave Julianne a sad smile. “I’m sorry that I even doubted you. You’re an impulsive woman, but only because you want to protect the people you care about. Your brother is the guilty one here.”

Julianne gave a heaving sigh of relief just as the thunder rumbled overhead. She was impulsive—and gullible—but it was comforting to know her mother-in-law understood. Too bad Will hadn’t trusted her enough to stick around and allow Julianne to defend herself. It seemed to Julianne that her husband was just as impulsive. Annabeth patted the couch beside her. Julianne climbed off the floor into her mother-in-law’s arms.

“Well, this is quite a mess,” Annabeth said as she wrapped a blanket around a now-shivering Julianne. As lightning crackled outside, Julianne snuggled against her. For once, she was too preoccupied to muster the strength to be frightened of the weather. Will would be so proud of her. If only he didn’t hate her.

Owen had been cranky all morning, jarring Julianne’s already frazzled nerves. She pushed him along the main street in Chances Inlet, one of the wheels of the stroller squeaking as it rolled along. A strong breeze blew off the ocean, the remnants of the previous night’s storm that had kept most of the tourists indoors. The isolated sidewalk perfectly matched her mood.

Most of the town’s residents had already heard about Will’s subpoena. The sports networks quickly connecting the dots had surmised Julianne was the culprit, shredding her brother’s carefully crafted wedding story of her and Will’s reconciled love. Now she was painted as the woman who’d stop at nothing to wrangle out of a marriage of convenience and return to partying in Europe with her son.

The people of Chances Inlet had been giving her the cold shoulder all morning. Mrs. Elderhaus, Will’s first-grade teacher, however, went one step further, haranguing Julianne on her walk through town. “Shame on you!” she railed at her. “That boy is as honest as the day is long and always has been. You’ve done nothing but cause trouble in his life. If he’s smart, and he is, he’ll dump you like a sack of hot potatoes!” Chin high, she’d stormed off to catch up to the rest of her walking club.

It was ironic, actually. Will thought the people of his hometown pitied him, mocked him, or considered him less than they were because he didn’t have a father. She wished he could be here today to see how wrong he was. He was one of them whether he’d grown up in the Seaside Vista Trailer Park or in one of the stately houses on the intercoastal waterway. Too bad he’d never understand that.

As she pushed the stroller into Annabeth’s shop, she nearly ran over Gavin. He blocked her path, his arms crossed over his chest. Gavin wasn’t quite as massive as Will, but he was well muscled and nearly as tall. Whereas Will’s face was chiseled and hard, Gavin’s was more rugged, with laugh lines bracketing his twinkling eyes and a pair of devastating dimples. His wavy hair was always in some disarray from where he’d pulled his fingers through it. Of the two men, Gavin always looked the most approachable.

Except for today. The hard line of his mouth warned Julianne that Patricia’s son was clearly in Will’s camp. Not that it surprised her. Once again, she was relieved that his friends were still loyal to him.

“What is it with you women?” Gavin stood there as if he expected an answer.

“I just don’t get it,” he continued. “You think it’s okay to just sucker punch a guy like that. To ruin his name. His career. The sad part about it is the dumbass would have given you anything. Anything.”

Julianne had to look away because she felt the tears threatening again. Owen whimpered, stretching to try to reach his foot. Gavin crouched down on his haunches as he reached into the stroller to let Owen play with his finger.

“He loved you, you know. I didn’t think it was possible he’d ever find anyone to love, he’s such a stubborn asshole. But he did.” Gavin’s voice was gravelly, as if he were wrestling with his own emotions. “It hurts when you women rip a guy’s heart out and stomp on it. Some guys don’t ever get over it. Unfortunately, I think Will is going to be one of those guys.”

She forced the lump in her throat down as Gavin kissed Owen on the head. He didn’t bother to look at her when he stood and walked out the door. Shoulders slumped, she pushed the stroller deeper into the store. Lynnette, Annabeth’s assistant, swooped from across the room to pull a now-fussy Owen out of the stroller.

“I think he might want a bottle,” Julianne said, handing her one from the diaper bag. “He’s really out of sorts today, so don’t take it personally if he doesn’t drink too much.”

“Likely the boy misses his daddy.” Lynnette gave her the evil eye before disappearing into the back office with the baby.

Annabeth sat at her computer eyeing Julianne over her reading glasses. “Has he called you?” she asked.

There was no point asking who he was. Neither woman had heard from Will in nearly twenty-four hours. Julianne shook her head.

With a resigned sigh, Annabeth removed her reading glasses. “So what’s your plan, Julianne?”

“My plan?”

“Yes, Julianne, your plan. Surely you have one?”

She didn’t, actually. Not a single one. All her life, she’d never needed a plan, simply moving from one thing to the next. She’d started designing on a whim when a wealthy friend from boarding school fell in love with one of Julianne’s sketches and just had to have it as her wedding gown. From there, her business had spread by word of mouth. When Sebastian had come along and taken her under his wing, she’d left all the planning to him, enjoying life as it came.

“Flying by the seat of your pants.” She cringed as Will’s description of her echoed through her mind.

Her pregnancy had altered her lifestyle. Now she was responsible for another human being. But she hadn’t planned that well, either. She skirted around the truth, keeping secrets from those around her. And look where that landed her. She’d acted brashly selling JV Designs, not thinking how she’d support herself in the future. Regrettably, she hadn’t planned, and the results were stupid choices. The one decision she didn’t regret, though, was marrying Will.

“Do you love him, Julianne?” Annabeth’s delicate voice interrupted her thoughts. “Do you love my son?”

Julianne nodded through her tears. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“Then you have to have a plan.”

The antique Hepplewhite chair creaked as Julianne sat down on it. “I don’t even know where to begin. Will won’t answer my calls or respond to my texts. He doesn’t care about listening to my side of things. He just assumes the worst.”

“Can you blame him?”

Annabeth’s words stung, but she spoke the truth. Their relationship didn’t have much of a basis in trust. And it was Julianne’s fault.

“One thing is for certain, you’re not going to get to talk to him by hiding down here in Chances Inlet.” Annabeth stood and walked out from behind the counter. “I, for one, am done with hiding.”

“You think I should go to Baltimore?”

“Well, the mountain isn’t going to come to you, Muhammad. Believe me when I say no one does stubborn martyr better than my son. He’d just as soon think the whole world is against him than admit he might have made a mistake. And believe me, he shares in the blame for this mess. A lot of people do,” she said with quiet certainty.

Julianne ran her hand along the smooth mahogany arm of the refurbished chair. “How do I get him to listen to me? To really trust me?”

“It’s too bad your Slytherin brother can’t be persuaded to tell the truth to Will,” Annabeth mused.

“Not unless there’s something in it for him.”

Julianne had left a caustic voice mail on Stephen’s phone the previous evening, Annabeth and Patricia cheering her on. She’d told her brother to take the money from their grandmother’s trust fund and shove it. She wanted no part of the Marchione money. And, she’d added for good measure, she wanted no part of their family anymore. After all, had her grandmother loved her enough, she would have left her the money outright. She’d told Stephen she’d never forgive him for what he’d done to Will and subsequently to their marriage. He’d tried to call her repeatedly since then, but she’d let the calls go unanswered.

It had been liberating to tell her brother off, but the pain of his deception still cut deeply. It hurt to know her family loved and respected her so little. Her father had essentially written her out of his life shortly after her mother died, leaving her brother as her guardian. The two were never close, but she enjoyed being an aunt to his children. She’d miss that. Annabeth had stayed by her side during last night’s storm, reassuring Julianne that she and Owen were her family regardless of what happened with Will. The thought was both comforting and tragic.