Emilie Ryan

CHAPTER ONE

Julie shook her head as she dropped her phone in her purse. This couldn’t be happening.

She bit her lip, not wanting to make a scene in front of the busy coffee shop terrace at the edge of Westmount.

If she cancelled her trip, she could potentially recoup some of the costs. She certainly had other things she could spend her money on, like purchasing a new summer wardrobe or buying a new phone.

If she decided to go, she could climb the Eiffel Tower to scratch it off her bucket list. She could also take in some art and get a much-needed break after what had been a hectic end to the school year.

The fragrant smell of neatly pruned boxwoods, one of her favourite scents, brought Julie back to her surroundings. She crossed the street and peered up at her parents’ condo on the top floor, hoping her father was home. At the same time, the phone call she had just received dominated her thoughts. She balked again at the fact her best friend had just bailed on their wine-tasting vacation to the vineyards of Southern France, a trip they had been planning for months.

After letting herself in, Julie leaned her umbrella against the wall and removed her red leather sandals. The sound of classical music, a staple in her parents’ home, filled the air. Today, Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons occupied the playlist.

“Oh, there you are,” said her mother, Gabriella, approaching from down the hall. “I thought you’d be here a half-hour ago. Did you pick up everything like I asked?”

“Uh, hi, Mom. And, yes, I did.”

“Good. Put everything on the counter, then decant the wine if you don’t mind.” Her mother pointed toward the granite kitchen island, on top of which sat a bouquet of white lilies. “I’ve got my hands full, so you’ll need to set the dining room table before you start on the dessert.”

Julie blinked. Her mother had only asked her to purchase the ingredients, not make the dark chocolate mousse and raspberry coulis. “I have to be back home by three, so I can’t stay long.”

Her mother shot her a disapproving look. “Why not? What could be more important than helping out your parents?”

Julie wondered how much to divulge about her botched travel plans, especially given her mother’s soapbox rant the week before. “I’m having a friend over for dinner, and I still need to get some things ready.”

“A friend? Don’t tell me you’re seeing that married man again; what’s his name, Patrick? Married men are trouble. How many times do I need to tell you that?”

The haughty tone irked Julie, as did the veiled directive. Whenever her mother spoke in that voice, she felt like a small child, not an accomplished twenty-nine-year-old woman. “It’s Peter, and he’s separated.”

“It still boggles my mind that you left Richard. He was so good for you, a perfect catch.”

Julie dug her nails into her palms as she fought to bury a mental image of her ex-fiancé. Why did her mother keep bringing him up?

She turned toward the entrance, not seeing her father’s well-worn brown leather Birkenstocks. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s out running some errands but was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago. Maybe you can give him a call to see what time he’ll be back.”

Julie chuckled to herself. Her father jumped at any opportunity to leave the house, a way to “escape further domestication,” as he put it.

“Can you look after Gaby tonight?”

Julie’s eyebrows shot up.

“It would really help your father and me out, dear. As much as I love her, I don’t want her running around, getting in the way, and knocking things over when our guests arrive. Besides, she adores spending time at your place.”

Julie pursed her lips. Her younger brother, Chris, had texted earlier in the day to ask if she could take care of Gaby for the night, but given her dinner plans with Peter, she had declined. He must have called their mother afterward, something he tended to do whenever he didn’t get his way. “I already told Chris I couldn’t do it, so—”

“Well, someone needs to look after your niece, so I’m asking you again. I’m going to be stuck here in the kitchen all afternoon, preparing everything on my own since you have to leave, which you never mentioned earlier.”

The word “martyr” materialized in Julie’s mind as a familiar feeling of guilt bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. “I’m sure Gaby will be more than happy to help you out.”

Her mother stared back with unforgiving eyes. “I don’t ask you for much, now do I? I’d appreciate it if you helped me out once in a while. Besides, I still haven’t packed for my trip.”

“What trip?”

“Your father and I are off to San Diego next week. I have a meeting with a potential partner, a big firm out west, and he’s decided to join me so he can lounge around on the beach.” She rolled her eyes.

“I thought you had agreed to take care of Marley while I’m away.” Julie scrambled to think of who else could look after her cat, assuming she went on her trip.

“I must’ve told Chris then. Anyway, now you know, so that’s where we’ll be in case you need to reach us. Your neighbour can look after him.”

“But you said you’d do it. And, so you know, my neighbour moved out three weeks ago. I haven’t met the new couple yet.”

Her mother sighed. “Why does everything have to be so complicated with you? You’re about to turn thirty, so it’s about time you figured things out.”

Julie needed another reminder of her upcoming birthday about as much as she needed an emergency trip to the dentist. Blanking on an appropriate rebuttal, she peered over her shoulder at the sound of the front door opening, expecting to see her father carrying a half-dozen shopping bags. Instead, her heart warmed at the sight of Gaby, who ran toward her with a toothy smile.

“Auntie Julie, Auntie Julie! Yay, you’re here!”

Julie squatted down and opened her arms, drawing in her niece. Few things could rival how she felt when Gaby was around, and she did her utmost to savour the moment. “Hello, Sweet Pea. We were just talking about you.” She kissed her niece’s forehead.

“Guess what Mommy gave me?” Gaby asked, her blue eyes bright.

Julie looked her up and down, noticing the pink barrettes in her curly blond hair. “A new toothbrush?”

Gaby burst out laughing. “No, silly, not a toothbrush.”

“Hmm . . . A new car?”

“I’m not old enough to drive, Auntie Julie. I’m only five-and-a-half, you know.”

The seriousness of Gaby’s tone made Julie smile. “Of course, you are. I forgot . . . Is it something you’re wearing?”

“Yes, my rain boots!” Gaby lifted her leg high in the air, nearly toppling over. “They’re sooo awesome!”

Julie chuckled at the red-and-white striped rubber boots, which resembled giant candy canes. “They’re beautiful, just like you.”

“You can borrow them any time you want. You just have to ask.”

Julie’s sister-in-law, Anika, stepped forward. “Sweetie, come over here and take off your boots, so you don’t get Grandma’s floor all dirty.”

Julie waved at Anika, who stood by the door, her light brown hair pulled back in a bun. She wore her nursing uniform under her rain jacket.

“Thanks again, Gabriella, for watching Gaby. I wasn’t expecting to work this evening, but you have to take shifts whenever you can.”

Julie’s mother approached the entranceway. “Any time, dear. But, actually, Julie’s going to look after her tonight, if that’s all right with you.”

Julie’s jaw dropped. Her mother had just thrown her under the—

“Yay! I can’t wait to see Marley. He’s going to love my boots.”

“Oh . . .” Anika said, staring at Julie then back at Gabriella. “I thought you had . . . No matter. Thanks, Jules. I owe you one. I like your dress, by the way. Fuchsia really suits you. Did you lose some weight? You did, didn’t you?”

Grateful someone had finally noticed, Julie nodded. She had been making a concerted effort to commute to work by bike and to cycle on weekends, either with a group of female friends or, more recently, with Peter. She had made the commitment after her GP’s warning about her health. “Yeah, I did. It was doctor’s orders.”

“Well, you look great.” She glanced at her watch. “I better get going, but thanks again for all your help. Chris is playing at the Sax ’N Soul tonight on Mackay, so text me if anything comes up.”

As Gaby hugged Anika goodbye, Julie mulled over her predicament. When her niece turned around, she said, “Don’t bother taking off your boots, Sweet Pea. We’re going to leave now, too.” She caught a glimpse of her mother, who folded her arms across her chest. “Mom, everything’s done except the dessert, so you’re almost good to go.” She turned back to Gaby. “I have to pick up a few things on the way home, but we can stop for a brownie if you want.”

“Yay!” Gaby exclaimed, jumping up and down.

***

Later that evening, Julie stood beside her niece in her second-floor condo in Le Plateau-Mont-Royal. As she took in the rich, savoury aroma emanating from the red wine reduction on her stovetop, her mouth began to water.

“Careful, Sweet Pea, okay? Mix it slowly, so it doesn’t splatter.”

Julie could tell, by virtue of Gaby’s tongue sticking out, her niece remained focused on the task at hand. At the same time, she couldn’t stop her own mind from reverting to her thwarted travel itinerary.

“How much longer?” Gaby asked.

“It’s looking pretty good now, so let’s give it a try.”

Julie offered Gaby a spoon before taking one for herself. She dipped it in the sauce, then blew on it before having a taste, with Gaby copying her every move. “So, what do you think?”

Gaby gave her a thumbs-up as Marley sauntered into the kitchen and meowed. Gaby bent down to stroke the orange tabby’s back. “I think he wants a taste.”

Julie rejoiced at the sight of Marley rubbing his head against her niece’s knee. “He probably does, but if he eats now, he won’t be hungry for dinner.”

“Okey-dokey. Can I go draw with Marley?”

“Of course, you can. You know where everything is.” As Gaby left the kitchen, Julie perused the recipe laying on her white quartz countertop. The heart-shaped stain on the page made her grin, a happy reminder of the dinner party she had hosted nine months earlier, her first social gathering after moving into her new condo. How things had changed since she had left Richard.

A cardinal perched on a branch outside her kitchen window caught her eye, and her thoughts drifted to Peter. Immediately, a lightness filled her chest. She appreciated he had embraced the idea of having Gaby join them for dinner, even if it meant they had to alter their plans on short notice. She also appreciated his offer to pick up a dessert for Gaby, a gesture that had earned him even more points in her book.

Stirring the contents of the saucepan, Julie wondered how he would react to her chosen menu. She had settled on veal scaloppini, a tribute to Peter’s Italian heritage, yet she knew she had taken a bit of a risk. But she felt confident in her choice of wine, a Merlot-dominated blend from Saint-Émilion, France, an offering that should, in theory, pair well with the meal.

Pulling out a jug of water from her fridge, she heard her phone ding with a message.

Sorry, Jules. I can’t go to France . . . At least not right now. I wish I could, but we can’t afford it. I hope you understand.

Julie sighed. Her sister-in-law had been her best hope for a last-minute travel companion, but now she had to rethink her options.

She peered toward the living room where Gaby lay on the floor, colouring with a set of washable markers. In typical fashion, Marley lay by her side, his front paws touching the oversized paper, something that didn’t seem to bother her niece one bit. As Gaby stroked Marley’s head, whispering something Julie failed to make out, she retrieved her phone and took a picture of the pair, already planning to add it to the collection of photos on the living room wall.

She took the opportunity to check for additional text messages, and not seeing any—especially from her mother—Julie released the tension in her shoulders. How could her mother be so insensitive after everything she had endured over the past year? It felt as though her mother didn’t listen to anything she said. Maybe her mother didn’t want to know, or worse yet, perhaps her mother didn’t care. Ever since Julie had followed in the family tradition and completed her education degree instead of pursuing interior design, she felt an underlying resentment toward her mother. Why her mother continued to criticize her remained a mystery.

A short while later, Julie’s phone dinged again. She perused the screen and saw Peter’s name.

Running a little late, but should be there soon. Have a little surprise for you and Gaby.

Julie checked her look in the mirror one final time. For fun, she removed her hair clip and allowed her hair to fall down her back. The clip had created waves, which, she had to admit, didn’t look half bad, although she still crossed her fingers. With all the heat and humidity, she hoped the argan oil would keep the frizz at bay.

A distinctive knock at the door made her insides flutter. “Coming,” she called, wiping her hands on a dishcloth.

Through the peephole, Julie caught a glimpse of a bulging eyeball. Chuckling, she opened the door and came face-to-face with her grinning boyfriend. She admired his dark jeans and white, button-down shirt, both of which flattered his athletic build.

“Hello, beautiful. Sorry I’m late. I went to the Jean-Talon Market, and I couldn’t decide what would be better: chocolate mousse or a lemon tart. They both spoke to me.” In a lower voice, he added, “And, to be honest, I got distracted thinking about you again.”

She blushed. “I’m sure whatever you picked will be great. Can I take anything?”

Peter handed her a bouquet of white roses, as well as a single red rose. “That’s for Gaby, by the way, unless you want it instead.”

Julie smiled, then pressed her lips to his, a warmth radiating throughout her core.

When she scanned the living room, she caught her niece’s innocent gaze. “Gaby, can you come over here? Peter has something for you.”

Her niece put down her marker and approached the entranceway, with Marley following behind like a faithful puppy.

“Hi, Gaby. I didn’t know what colour you liked, so I picked red to go with your new boots. Julie told me about them, and they sound really neat. I was going to wear mine tonight, but it’s not raining anymore.”

Gaby stared back with wide eyes, seemingly tongue-tied.

Amused by her niece’s reaction, Julie gestured toward Peter. “So, what do you say?”

“Um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Julie continued to grin, happy the day had taken a turn for the better. “Make yourself at home, Peter. I just need to finish up a few things in the kitchen.”

As he walked by, she discretely cupped his behind. Although she knew she should take things slowly and not get ahead of herself, her inner desire ran rampant whenever they spent time together. Just thinking about him made her want to don her black lingerie ensemble and play out one of her fantasies.

He peered over his shoulder. “You’re a bad influence, you know.”

“Pfff . . . You’re one to talk.”

“Can I help with anything?”

“Would you mind opening the wine and pouring it into the decanter? Everything should be on the table.”

She watched him eye the objects.