five
Three hours after the debacle with Ladybug, Julia walked out of the Apple Store with Zeke at her side, the latest iPhone in her hand, and a smile on her face. The new phone was fully restored from the undamaged SIM card, partially charged, and protected by a shock-proof OtterBox case.
While slipping the phone into her purse, she stepped with Zeke to the curb of the busy parking lot. “Thanks. I’m back in business.”
When a car whizzed past them, he rested his hand lightly on her back to guide her away from it. “The drive here wasn’t bad either. It gave me a chance to sell you on Caliente Springs.”
“Which you did. Thoroughly.”
The decision to recommend Caliente Springs over the other resorts she had visited turned out to be easy. Zeke’s passion for the hotel and its guests impressed her, and it was perfect for both a large conference and employee vacations. The next step was for Julia to meet with Ashley tomorrow as planned to discuss details like meeting rooms and menus. Next, she’d email her recommendation to Mr. Carter. If he liked what he read, he and his wife would visit CS themselves.
Thinking of the Carters, she tipped her head up to Zeke. “Do you play golf?”
“Badly. Why?”
“You should brush up. Mr. Carter will want to play at least a few rounds.”
Zeke winced as he opened her door. “I’m taking lessons from John, but right now I’m awful at it.”
“You’ll get better.” When he grimaced, she punched his arm. “Look at the bright side. You get to wear plaid pants.”
“Lucky me.”
Chuckling, she climbed into the SUV. Zeke was rounding the hood when her phone signaled yet another text from Hunter. Earlier, when the Apple guy handed her the phone, she checked quickly for messages and saw three from him, each more curt than the last. She sympathized with his desire to pin down a time for the school meeting, but she couldn’t finalize the schedule until she checked with her mom. That call needed to wait.
As Zeke opened his door, she tapped a quick text to Hunter. Can’t talk. Will call tonight. Then she slipped the phone into her purse.
Zeke turned the ignition and rolled down the windows just the way she liked. “Now that you’re back in business, I’d like to talk to you about another possible job for Dare to Dream.”
“Sure.” Her phone dinged again. This time she ignored it. “What’s up?”
“A big wedding at the resort.” He hesitated. “It’s complicated, and with Irene out, I’m looking for someone to coordinate it.” After a glance in the rearview mirror, he backed out of the space. “I thought we could discuss it over dinner.”
A pleasant warmth rippled through her, but she hesitated. Dinner would lead to those personal questions she wanted to avoid. On the other hand, she enjoyed Zeke’s company, and he’d said the magic word to an event planner: wedding. When her stomach rumbled, the scales tipped. “Dinner would be nice.”
“So what sounds good?”
Before she could answer, her phone signaled another text. Frowning, she checked it and saw Hunter’s ID. Again? Seriously? Trying not to grimace, she texted back, LATER.
Zeke paused with his foot on the brake. “I know you have a business to run. If you need to take care of that, go ahead.”
“It can wait.”
“Whatever you need to do. I understand being on call.” Zeke braked at the parking lot driveway and signaled a left turn. “How does Mexican sound?”
“Great.”
“Formal or casual?”
“Casual.”
Zeke smiled at her in that familiar way. “I knew you’d say that.”
She smiled back, her pulse thrumming with a little too much pleasure for a business meeting, but just the right amount for a woman enjoying the company of an old friend.
Zeke steered into the afternoon traffic, thick with commuters and students from the university. “If you’re up for a drive, there’s a taco stand at the Pismo Beach Pier. The food’s super spicy. You’ll love it.”
He would know. In Berkeley, she had fussed all the time about the bland Mexican food in the Bay Area. “That sounds good.”
“So tell me about Dare to Dream.” He kept his eyes on the road. “How long have you been in business?”
Julia relaxed against the leather seat. “I started it a few months ago with help from my mom. She runs a flower shop now and works with me on the side. We plan weddings, conferences, family reunions, anything that needs coordinating. I love it.”
Zeke made a right turn onto a four-lane highway that headed toward the sinking sun. “It’s not easy to get a business on its feet.”
“No.”
“How big is your client base?”
“Not big, but we’re working on it. My mom’s shop has a great reputation and a solid customer base. That gives us some exposure in the wedding market, and she’s not shy about telling people about Dare to Dream. Mr. Carter, for instance. He’s a family friend. And I—” She hesitated. “I have some contacts of my own.” Through Hunter. She’d done some event planning for his law firm.
“What made you go into business for yourself?”
“The need to eat?”
“That works.” He maneuvered around a lumbering RV and settled into a faster speed in the left lane. “When we left Berkeley, you were planning to work for a year, then go to grad school.”
Julia stiffened. Those plans had changed because of Hunter. “That’s right.”
“Did you go?”
“No.”
Zeke didn’t know anything about that year, because he had been in Chile. The few emails they’d exchanged were short, until she stopped answering altogether, mostly because she didn’t want Zeke to know about her relationship with Hunter. In Berkeley, the two men had clashed badly.
“What changed your mind?” Zeke asked.
Hunter. He’d been in his last year at Boalt, the UC Berkeley School of Law. Somehow her ambitions had been absorbed into his, though at the time she didn’t realize it.
Zeke was waiting for an answer. All she could do was shrug. “I just lost interest.”
“It happens. So what did you do then?”
“I stayed in Berkeley for a while and worked as a checker at a grocery store. It wasn’t glamorous, but it paid the rent.”
“What about St. John’s? Did you stay involved?”
Her breath ballooned in her lungs, as if she were with Zeke in the St. John’s parking lot, watching him play basketball with the boys who gathered at the portable hoop. Most of the time she just watched and cheered, but one day he was in his office and worried about something. She had grabbed the basketball and said, “Let’s play.” They hadn’t kissed at that point. But after the game, he took her out for a milkshake. They had talked for three hours, and when he walked her back to her car, he kissed her for the first time.
“Julia?”
Warmth shot to her cheeks. “Sorry. My mind wandered.”
“St. John’s? Did you visit?”
“No. I thought about it, but I never did.”
“Me either.”
His voice came out rough, like hers. They sat in silence for a quarter mile, both staring through the windshield.
Zeke broke the silence first. “What did you do next?”
“I moved back to Los Angeles.” First to her mother’s house, then in with Hunter. She’d been in love with him then, and in spite of twinges of doubt about their relationship, she had chosen to go with the flow and let Hunter set the course. She hadn’t meant to move in with him, but her possessions migrated one by one to his condo. After a year, she changed her address on her driver’s license.
“What did you do before Dare to Dream?”
He was interviewing her for a job, but their history meant she needed to include more detail without being too personal. “I planned campaign events for a mayoral candidate.” Hunter’s father had pulled strings to get her the job. “Over the course of the campaign, I arranged everything from fundraisers to rallies to thousand-dollar-a-plate dinners. Unfortunately, the candidate lost.”
“Too bad.”
“If he’d won, I’d be working in the mayor’s office.” Instead she had hit the pavement with her résumé, found nothing, and been criticized by Hunter for not making more contacts of her own.
Zeke pushed his sunglasses higher on his nose. “What did you do after the campaign?”
Got pregnant by accident. Cried in my mom’s kitchen. But that had come later. “I talked to a couple of headhunters, but they weren’t interested. I needed to do something, so I worked as a temp.”
“Admin stuff?”
“Everything.” She rattled off the computer programs she knew. “When it comes to office work, I’m a Jill-of-all-trades.”
“That’s an asset in my book.” He drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. “Back to Dare to Dream. How many weddings have you planned now?”
“Just three.” Four if she counted the one for herself that didn’t happen. “I love weddings. Big or small, it doesn’t matter as long as the day is special to the bride and groom.”
“Tell me about the biggest one you’ve done.”
Julia grinned at the memory of Mark and Gina, a couple in their thirties with the money to splurge. “We started with a terrific venue, a 1940s mansion in Pasadena.” The place she had picked for herself and Hunter. “The bride and groom loved old movies, so we went with a classic Hollywood theme, an evening ceremony, and spotlights to create the atmosphere of a movie premiere. It was a lot of fun.”
“How many guests?”
“Around two hundred.” To Julia, that was huge. “Mark and Gina wanted it casual with lots of dancing, so we served buffet style. No wedding is perfect, but this one was close.”
“You mean glitches.” Julia could smile now, but it wasn’t funny at the time. “The flower girl helped herself to her mom’s lipstick. Bright red, of course. That was a mess, but it wasn’t as bad as what the groom’s dog did.”
“Oh no.”
“Yep. Right in the aisle.”
Zeke winced, but his eyes were twinkling. “No dogs at this wedding. At least that I know of.”
“And no goats, I hope.”
“No goats. That’s a promise.”
A chuckle spilled from her lips. As different as she and Zeke had been in college, somehow they saw humor in the same things. Apparently they still did. Julia blew out a small breath. “The lipstick mess and the dog were trouble at the time, but those are the best stories. Now Mark and Gina laugh about it.”
Someday, maybe she’d laugh at her own wedding in that way. But that day was far away, if it ever happened all.
Five minutes after they arrived in the town of Pismo Beach, a grid of narrow streets lined with restaurants, tourist traps, art galleries, and specialty shops, Zeke bought tacos from an outdoor stand. With Julia holding the soft drinks, he led the way to a south-facing bench on the pier, and they sat. So far, he liked what he was hearing about Dare to Dream and hoped Julia would be interested in planning Tiff’s wedding.
Julia was on her third bite when her phone chirped with a text. Grimacing, she set the taco on the orange grease paper, wiped her fingers, and tapped out a reply.
Zeke didn’t mind waiting. In fact, it felt good to soak in the fading sun. Below them, the pylons creaked with the slosh and roll of waves. To his left, an Asian woman was fishing with a friend, chattering in the singsong cadence of her native tongue. Zeke wasn’t on speaking terms with God, but he still relished the majesty of a beautiful sunset.
The breeze lifted Julia’s hair. The six years since Berkeley had softened her face, and her body too. Everything about her was somehow fuller than he remembered, as if she had ripened like a grape on a vine. They were different people now, but Julia was even more beautiful to him. What that meant, Zeke didn’t know. But he was willing, even eager, to give those old sparks a chance to rekindle.
Julia sent the text, picked up her taco, and finished it. “We were talking about your need for a wedding planner. I’m definitely interested. When is the big day?”
“September twenty-second.”
“Next year?”
“No. Next month.”
Her brows shot up. “That’s”—she counted on hers fingers—“four weeks and two days. It must be small.”
“No.”
“How many guests?”
“Up to five hundred.”
She gaped at him. “How is that even possible? Wedding venues like Caliente Springs are booked a year in advance.”
“I wish we were. The resort has had some tough times. We’re older. Out of date. We’re not on the cutting edge, but I’m hoping to change that. This wedding could put us on the map.”
“But five hundred people in a month?” She shook her head like a doctor giving grim news. “You know that’s insane, don’t you?”
“It is, but there’s a lot at stake.” Between bites, he told her about George’s promise to Tiff, Ginger’s involvement as a stand-in for Tiff’s mom, and the resort’s financial woes. “If I don’t pull off this wedding, there’s a good chance CS will end up on the chopping block. I love my job, but what’s even more important are the two hundred people depending on me. We’re like family.”
She stared down the coastline again, her thoughts hidden until she shook her head. “I’d like to help, but—”
Her phone interrupted for the second time in five minutes. With her jaw tight, she mumbled an apology, rushed a reply, and took a breath before facing him. “Where were we?”
“You were about to turn me down.” And he couldn’t let that happen. “Do you have other commitments?”
“A few, including Carter Home Goods. But that’s not the problem. I live three hours away. My contacts are all in Los Angeles.”
“Mine aren’t.”
She blinked a couple of times. “You mean the hotel.”
“Exactly.” He raised one hand and counted off the benefits. “Catering. A choice of beautiful sites for the ceremony. An in-house florist. A staff at your beck and call.”
“Hmmm.”
“The big pieces are in place, but I need someone who can coordinate the flow. Plus, you have to get along with Ginger and George.”
“And Tiff. Don’t forget the bride.”
“See? You’re helping me already.” Just like she had helped him at St. John’s with paper work and grant proposals. “I really do need your expertise. About compensation—what do you charge?”
She gave him a you’re crazy look. “For a massive wedding in a month? A million dollars.”
“Done.”
“In that case, sign me up.” She bumped his ribs with her elbow as if they were in college again. “Being serious here, my fee for a wedding with over a hundred guests is fifteen percent of the total cost.”
“I haven’t said yes.”
“No, but you want to.” He needed to sweeten the pot. An idea hit him that seemed perfect, especially with Julia’s background as a temp. He stood and faced her with his hands laced behind his back. “Let’s negotiate.”
“I don’t think—”
“Hear me out.” He kept his voice light. “With Irene on leave, I need an assistant, and you have all the right skills. How about this: You plan Tiff’s wedding and fill in for Irene. You can work on the Carter account for Dare to Dream, plus I’ll throw in a suite for the duration of your stay.”
Julia gawked at him, her mouth agape. “I have to admit, it’s tempting.”
“So what’s stopping you?”
“It’s a wonderful offer, Zeke. But . . .” She drew in a long breath as if to steel herself. “I can’t just pack up and move for a month. I have a son.”
“Wow.” That was all he could say. Jules with a child. He hadn’t considered that possibility. Surprised but not shocked, he dropped back down on the bench.
She scooted a few inches away. “His name is Max. He’s four. His father and I weren’t married. That’s over now.”
She held his gaze, but a haunted light filled her eyes. Did she think he’d throw stones at her for having a son outside of marriage? In the past, he might have. But not anymore. He’d lost the right to feel superior to anyone, especially her. “Jules, I—”
“Don’t say anything yet.” The breeze caught her hair and lifted it away from her face. “I don’t want to talk about Max’s father, but there’s something else you deserve to know.”
His imagination drew a complete blank. “What is it?”
“I’m a Christian now.”
“A Christian?”
“Yes.” Her hands finally unknotted, and she sat back as if a weight had been lifted. “Kind of a surprise, huh?”
A big one. Zeke dragged his hand through his hair. “Wow,” he said again.
“I feel the same way.”
“I bet.”
“It’s a long story, and I don’t want to tell it right this minute. But I need to thank you for the things you said to me back in Berkeley, and for praying for me. I argued with you at the time. I’m sorry now—for everything. I think you know what I mean.”
Memories crashed down on him. That night in his apartment. The vanilla candle burning in the smoky dark. The agony of fighting temptation until he just couldn’t fight anymore. He had resisted making love to her as long as he could, but in the end, nature was just too strong, or his faith too weak. Or maybe God was just too demanding.
The old anger boiled up in him. Struggling to compose himself, he pushed off the bench and strode to the railing.
Julia’s steps hammered behind him. “Zeke, I—I don’t know what to say. This is—I didn’t plan—It just—”
He broke out laughing. Not at her, but at the irony of their present circumstances. Julia was full of life and hope. And Zeke was . . . he didn’t know exactly. Backslidden? Burned out? Weak-willed and unworthy? All of the above, he decided. They had flip-flopped. But she didn’t know it, and he didn’t want to tell her.
“Jules, forget it.”
“But—”
Turning, he took her hands in his and peered into her eyes. “The honest truth is, I don’t regret a thing. What happened between us was my choice as much as it was yours. A man never forgets that first time, and he sure doesn’t resent the woman who gave it to him.”
“Oh.” She blinked a couple of times. “But you’re a Christian, the strongest one I know. You were waiting for marriage. I took something special from you without knowing the value of it.”
“Jules. Drop it.” He let go of her hands.
“You’re upset.”
“A little.” No, a lot. The war between the Christian man he had tried to be and the flesh-and-blood man he really was had turned him inside out. The war was over, his heart toward God hard and unfeeling except when someone like Jules or George hit it with a hammer. “My reaction doesn’t have anything to do with you. What happened between us—all of it—is in the past. I think we both want to keep it there.”
She nodded furiously. “Yes. Definitely.”
“Good.” He indicated the bench he’d been watching out of the corner of his eye. “Let’s sit back down before someone swipes your purse.”
“Oh!” Julia spun around. “I can’t believe I left it.”
He guided her back, and they sat in the same places but farther apart. Zeke draped one foot over his knee and deliberately wiped his mind clean.
“Going back to the job offer. It still stands.”
Julia shook her head. “I can’t do it. Not with Max. My mom watches him for me.”
“So bring them.”
“Really?”
“Sure. Why not?” Zeke liked kids. “The hotel has a lot of activities for children. The three of you can stay in one of the cottages.”
“Are you serious?”
Four of the five cottages were empty now and likely to stay that way. “Yes, I’m very serious.”
Suddenly a cat meowed . . . in Julia’s purse. Zeke didn’t mind unique ringtones, but he was tired of her phone interrupting them. Judging by Julia’s frown, the person texting had decided to call. She was probably dealing with a bridezilla of a client.
“Sorry. I have to take this.” She snatched up the phone and walked away. When the phone meowed a second time, the breeze muted the cat sound but not the angry thump of Julia’s steps.
Zeke used the moment to check his own phone for messages. Nothing needed a quick reply, so he put it away and watched Julia pace along the railing, the phone to her ear and her thumb hooked in her back pocket. When she pivoted, he saw the furious slant of her brow. A client wouldn’t do that to her, but something personal might, like a Godzilla of a boyfriend. Because of the ringtone, Zeke dubbed the guy Catman.
The wind calmed, and the flags stopped snapping in the breeze. Silence engulfed him until Julia hissed into the phone. “I told you. I’ll call you tonight. . . . Yes. School is important. I get it.”
School. Zeke added Max’s father to the list of possible monsters blowing up Julia’s phone.
She ended the call but lingered at the railing. When she returned to the bench, the emotion was stripped from her face. Zeke handed her the Styrofoam cup of Sprite.
“Thanks.” She sat and took a long sip through the straw. “Sorry for the interruption.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look a little rattled.”
She took another sip of the drink. “It was Max’s dad. We don’t always see eye to eye. Thanks for trying to help, but I don’t want to talk about him.”
Neither did Zeke. In his opinion, Catman was a first-class jerk. “Then let’s talk about Tiff’s wedding.”
Her fingers squeezed the edge of the bench, curling until they were bone white. “I wish I could do it, Zeke. I really do. It’s just—”
“Don’t answer now.” Maybe beat a flat-out no any day of the week. “Think about it, okay?”
“All right. I will.”