Julia’s smile dimmed. “I don’t want to go back with them.”
“You’re an adult. You don’t have to go anyplace you don’t want to.”
She reached for my hand. “I see that now…you helped me see it.”
“Let’s go.” While I was confident that the house was safe, I wasn’t sure who had been here, making their way onto my private property all the way to my home.
My phone vibrated in my hand with numerous notifications—text messages and emails. I shook my head. Most were from my legal team and a few missed calls from Connie, my assistant, beginning yesterday afternoon.
Whatever the fuck was going down was looking for me.
I needed to face it.
Donovan Sherman didn’t hide or back away.
Once we were inside and had our coats hung in the front closet, I laid a kiss on Julia’s head. “I have messages to return.”
Her eyes narrowed. “My phone is upstairs. If your messages are about Wade or my family, will you tell me?”
“I’ll never lie.”
Julia nodded. “I’ll go shower and change clothes.”
My eyes stayed fixed on her as she walked away, up the staircase and toward the south wing.
There was more to what I’d said. I wouldn’t lie; however, some things will never be said.
I headed toward my office as I hit the button to call Connie. She answered right away.
“This is Christmas,” I said. “You’re supposed to be celebrating.”
“Mr. Sherman” —her concern filled tone held my attention— “it’s about Phillip.” When I failed to reply, she clarified, “Phillip Thomas.”
I closed the door to my office as heat began to build beneath the layers of my clothing. Gritting my teeth, I asked, “What about him?”
“He saw the announcement of your impending engagement.”
Running my free hand over my hair, I gripped the phone tighter. “I don’t care what my brother reads—”
“I didn’t want to bother you with this...yesterday or today...but he was upset, demanding to speak to you. He sounded...off. I explained that you were unreachable.”
“We haven’t spoken in a decade.”
“He said if he isn’t able to speak to you about his issue with you marrying, he’ll speak to your new fiancée.”
Over my dead body.
“Did you give him either of our private numbers?” I asked.
“No. I wouldn’t do that. I wanted you to know what he said.”
Now I knew.
Despite the irritation Connie’s information rekindled, the sayingdon’t shoot the messengercame to mind. Taking a deep breath, I replied, “Thank you, Connie. Let me know if he calls again.”
“I will. And sir, Mr. Fields has been trying to reach you.”
“Thank you. I’ll call him next. And...” —there was no doubt that Julia’s goodness was affecting me— “have a good holiday.”