I’d been too busy watching her to see Dad’s or Skylar’s response.

  “Mr. Sherman,” Dad began.

  Van again gestured toward the sofas before the fireplace. “Please, as Julia said, sit. It’s Christmas, and I’m sure you have places to be. As you can tell by the delicious aroma in the air, Julia and I have dinner waiting.” He shrugged. “Had we had advance notice, we would have had more food for us all to enjoy.”

  So that’s why Van started the meal.

  I could live with that.

  Mom, Dad, Van, and I sat as Skylar, still wearing his overcoat, walked to the tall windows. The bay beyond was veiled in darkness, yet the scene seemed to hold his attention. I had a sudden memory of the smudge that Margaret had found so unusual, and in a childish way, I wished for its reappearance, right where Skylar was standing.

  “This recent change in plans came suddenly,” Mom said.

  I sat taller. “Skylar’s impending parenthood—is that what you’re talking about?”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Skylar turn. His voice boomed throughout the open space. “She lied, Julia. Beth isn’t pregnant.”

  I knew that wasn’t true from my conversation with Vicki. Or at least I knew Beth had been pregnant. Her current status wasn’t my concern.

  “The cancellation of the wedding wasn’t sudden,” I said, speaking to both of them. “It was overdue.”

  “Your mother means,” Dad offered, “what is happening here.”

  Turning to Van, I took in his confident grin. In that second, I saw the man he told me he could be. I saw the qualities in his eyes. Van would let me handle this, he’d encouraged me to handle this, yet at no time was he unprepared. There was a calm calculation in his expression. He may have been surprised by Skylar’s presence, but he was nonetheless equipped to handle wherever this discussion went.

  If I were to guess, I’d say that Van was prepared before he offered the invitation for their arrival.

  Who I currently saw was the man whose memoir I had been hired to write. He was the wolf on Wall Street, the predator who seeks out wounded companies and businesses, and the man at the top who alone determines the fate of those within his sights.

  “What is happening here,” I offered, sitting near the edge of the leather chair, “is cosmic irony. I came to Ashland without knowing the identity of the man advertising for someone to pen his memoir. I didn’t expect to end up in a blizzard or a snowbank. I certainly didn’t know who rescued me.”

  “Or where the white ribbon would lead,” Van added.

  Seemingly ignoring Van’s comment, my mother pleaded, “Julia, Skylar asked to come with us to apologize to you in person and explain that Beth isn’t carrying his child.”

  I shook my head. “Thank you, Mom.”

  “For?”

  “For speaking for Skylar. I’ve noticed his inability to say more than a few words since his arrival. He’s fortunate to have you here to articulate his feelings.”

  “I-I’m not—”

  “Oh, but you are.” I stood. “It’s what you do. You probably have already conveyed my feelings in return. However, you forgot to ask me what they are. Tell me, am I willing to listen to his apology for sleeping with my best friend?” Before she could respond, I went on, “My thoughts regarding Beth’s pregnancy state is that regardless of her current status or” —I turned toward Skylar— “the accuracy of the text message I read, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Right,” Mom said. “It doesn’t. You have a life in Chicago, not here in this godforsaken wilderness.”

  I suppressed a smile, thinking of the cabin. Van’s home wasn’t a godforsaken wilderness. If only my mother could see the cabin. My attention stayed on my mother. “No,” I said matter-of-factly. “What doesn’t matter is Beth’s pregnancy status or what it was. It matters that she claimed Skylar was the father and he didn’t deny the possibility.” I turned to my ex-fiancé. “If returning the engagement ring and our subsequent conversation at the hotel didn’t make it clear enough for you, I don’t accept your apology. We can’t work this out.”

  “You don’t know the truth about him,” Skylar said, his chin pointing toward Van.

  Shaking my head at his pathetic attempt to attribute blame, I looked at Mom. “You said there’s more to marriage than love. You’re right. There’s trust and fidelity. I won’t walk into a marriage without those fundamental elements.”

  “And yet,” Mother replied, “you agreed to marry Mr. Sherman.”

  Van was sitting back, with his ankle resting on one knee. His eyes moved from Mother to me and back as if he were watching a tennis match, waiting for the game-winning point to be scored.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “When?” Dad asked.

  “We haven’t set a date.”

  “So you plan to live here in sin?” Mother asked.

  Red sin.

  I didn’t try to hide my smile. “I have my own suite.”

  “If you expect us to believe...” Skylar spoke from near the windows.

  “I don’t give a shit what you believe,” I said, my volume rising. “It’s none of your business. You lost all rights as far as I am concerned when you screwed my friend.” I took a breath. “But I won’t lie to any of you.”

  Van lowered his leg, sitting forward.

  “I’m more content with Van than I ever imagined I could be, ever. In the short time we’ve been together, he’s shown me that I have a voice.” I turned to Mom. “One you’ve successfully stifled over the years.”

  “You’re only twenty-four years old,” she said.

  “I’m legally an adult. I can make my own decisions and I have.”

  Dad motioned for me to sit. “You’re right.”

  “I am?” I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question.

  “You can make decisions. Just because you can make these decisions,” Dad said with an element of calm my mother lacked, “doesn’t mean that they’re the right ones. That isn’t your fault. You don’t have all the information on Mr. Sherman. He has a reputation he may not have shared with you.”

  “I’m sure there are many things about Van that I don’t know.” I turned toward him, seeing his gaze that I’d felt from my first word. “And I’m willing to take a lifetime to learn them.”

  “Did he tell you that he’s now secured another five of the remaining fifteen percent of Wade shares?” Dad asked.

  I turned to Van.

  Without a word and from the expression on Van’s face, I knew what my father said was true. I wanted to question Van and learn the details, but I also refused to expose a possible kink in the security of our snow globe to my parents.

  “You didn’t know, did you?” Dad asked.

  “I didn’t,” I replied honestly. “However, I have Van’s word that my wishes will be upheld regarding Wade. I trust him and his word.”

  “My father doesn’t,” Skylar said. “He sent me an interesting file on Mr. Thomas.”

  The use of Van’s original last name had little effect on Van, and more on me. “I don’t care what your father said. He wanted to sell Wade. He was going to take control while we were on our honeymoon. By the time we returned, he could have the entire company liquidated.”

  “That’s not what Dad was going to do,” Skylar said, coming closer. “The shares he had lined up were our wedding present. I knew about them, Jules. It was only a secret from you. Your parents knew. Mom and Dad wanted to give us overarching control. Our future would have been secure. Now, Sherman owns twenty-six percent—one more percent than the Butlers. Why would he do that?”

  A wedding present?

  Before I could reply, Van spoke to my father. “What is your concern, Mr. McGrath?”

  “My concern is for my daughter.”

  “Your daughter is in good hands, I assure you. What is your concern regarding Wade Pharmaceutical?”

  Van

  “We want it to survive. My grandfather created—”

  Mr. McGrath’s hand came up, silencing his wife. It was a welcome gesture, but one I was surprised she heeded. “For the record,” Julia’s father said, “I’m still concerned about Julia. She’s young and you’re...”

  “I’m older,” I admitted. “I’m not concerned about Julia’s youth. She’s an amazingly quick study.”

  Over the crackling of the fire, there was a collective inhale. Yes, I’d hit a chord and I would be happy to hit more. “What is your concern regarding Wade?” I asked again.

  “The unknown is rattling the shareholders.”

  I nodded. “We’re down to fewer and fewer when it comes to shareholders. Currently, there is you” —I nodded toward Mr. McGrath— “maintaining Julia’s shares, the Butlers, roughly four or five other entities holding ten percent, and myself.” I sat back against the chair. “Tell me who is rattled, and I’ll be happy to take their shares off their hands.”

  “Why would you do that?” Mrs. McGrath asked. “Wade Pharmaceutical is nothing with a portfolio like yours. You could easily ruin us and leave the company for dust, a write-off.”

  “He won’t,” Julia said.

  “Mr. Sherman?” Mr. McGrath asked. “Why should we trust you?”

  “You don’t have to. Don’t trust me. Your shares will be mine once Julia and I are married.” Before he could protest, I waved him off. “Yes, of course there will be a prenuptial agreement. However, theoretically, they’ll be at my disposal. I’m working on the other ten percent. That will give Julia and me sixty-five to seventy-five percent.” I turned to the dickass by the window. “Sell me your shares, Mr. Butler. I’ll pay double what they’re currently worth.”

  Skylar Butler turned my way.

  I could read him like an old newspaper. He was seeing money signs and opportunity. Wade didn’t mean anything to him. He wasn’t attached, yet he couldn’t show that tonight, not here in front of Julia and her parents.

  “No,” he finally said. “Wade has a sentimental value. I work there as does my father.”

  “Sell to me and you can quit.”

  It was Julia’s turn to stare in silence, her gaze going between me, her fiancé, and dickass, her ex-fiancé.

  “The Butlers aren’t selling,” Mrs. McGrath said.

  Her answer made me scoff. It was exactly as Julia had said; Mrs. McGrath spoke for whomever she wanted. Ignoring her interruption, I spoke to Butler. “Think about it, and if you decide to have an opinion of your own, call me. My people will draw up the paperwork.”

  “I have an opinion,” he said meekly.

  I could cut him up and have him for lunch. If he’d learned his skills from his father, either Marlin had been a horrible teacher or he wasn’t interested in teaching his son the finer art of business negotiation. There was also no way on earth I would pay double the value to the Butlers. This performance was simply for the enjoyment of watching Butler squirm and providing entertainment to the McGraths.

  I turned back to Julia’s father. “Sir, as long as Julia wants Wade to succeed, it will. By buying up the available shares, my hope is to return Wade to the status it enjoyed prior to Herman Wade’s decision to sell shares. Wade would be more of a reckoning force if it were back to a privately held company without outside influence.”

  The answer was in Mr. McGrath’s eyes. I’d just offered him a deal he could live with, what he’d strived for since taking the co-CEO position.

  “We have debt,” he said. “We still have a January 3rd date to either produce a balloon payment that we can’t afford or to accept a crippling increased interest rate.”

  “Gregg,” Mrs. McGrath scolded.

  “What, Ana? If you don’t think a man like Mr. Sherman knows everything there is to know about Wade, then you’re the one who’s delusional.”

  I spoke, “I was aware of the January 3rd deadline even before you told Julia and she told me. I do my homework.”

  “We can’t make it—the balloon payment,” Mr. McGrath said, his head shaking. “We’ll have to accept the increase in interest.” He exhaled and leaned forward. “That too is too much for us to pay. We won’t make it.”

  “What are you saying, Dad?” Julia asked. “Is it too late?”

  “No, it’s not,” Mrs. McGrath said. “The combination of McGrath and Butler has been planned forever. This was going to restore Wade’s standing. Once our rating was higher, the interest rates would lower.”

  “That scenario isn’t happening. Do you have a backup plan for raising your standing?” I asked.

  The McGraths looked at one another. Finally, it was Julia’s father who spoke. “We have researchers working on an Alzheimer’s medication that, if the clinical trials go well, will be able to be produced for much less than the one currently applying for approval.”

  “I hadn’t heard about that,” I admitted, intrigued.

  “Because we haven’t announced it,” Julia’s mother said. “There are advantages to being small. We stay under the radar until we want to be seen.”

  “Will you send me your research?”

  She sat straighter. “Are you also a biophysicist, Mr. Sherman?”

  “No, Mrs. McGrath, I’m a businessman. The shares I just purchased...had those stockholders been made aware of this new medication on the horizon?”

  “No,” Butler said, joining the conversation. “It was my father’s belief that if we announced too soon and the wider studies didn’t come out as the earlier and smaller controlled studies had, it would hurt us.”

  Marlin Butler knew about the possible future profitability of Wade and chose not to disclose it to the people whose stock he’d arranged to purchase. I wondered if he’d sold the new medication idea to the bigger companies he was courting. That could definitely increase the value of his shares.

  “How long until the wider studies will have data to share with the CDC and FDA?” Julia asked.

  A smile curled my lips as I watched her take part in this conversation.

  Her father answered. “Unfortunately, we can’t know that for sure.” He turned to me. “We just need to hang on.”

  My entrepreneurial interest in controlling shares of Wade Pharmaceutical was increasing by the minute. I turned to Julia. “What do you think?”

  “She doesn’t have the information,” her mother interjected.

  “I can speak for myself,” Julia said. “I don’t have the information. I want it. Send me everything and to Van too. The recent upheaval has made me realize that I do care about Wade. This new information makes me hopeful that I’m not simply asking Van to save a failing company, but that by saving it, we could see the fortunes turn.”

  “My father won’t agree to sending the data,” Butler said. “It’s all in-house. We can’t risk a leak.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell this runt what I thought of him and his father. Before I could, Julia stepped in.

  “Marlin has a say as long as he maintains his twenty-five percent. That’s all he has, Skylar—a twenty-five-percent say. As I said at the hotel, don’t push me. If you do, I’ll make sure you, your father, and your uncle are permanently removed from the day-to-day running of Wade.”

  Logan is involved?

  In what capacity?

  He wasn’t listed as a stockholder, board member, or anywhere among the employee information.

  “You can’t do that,” Butler said.

  “Julia has a say, too,” Mr. McGrath said. “The McGrath shares will be under her jurisdiction upon her marriage.”

  I was awed by Julia’s expression, seeing the way she internalized her father’s acknowledgment of her position.

  “Not to him,” Butler said, his chin coming my way. “Julia is kidding herself if she thinks she’ll have a say with him. He won’t listen. She’s handing Wade to the enemy.”

  “How is Van the enemy?” Julia asked.

  Her father spoke, “I think it’s best to keep tempers out of this. Right now, it’s business.”

  “Your father wants to sell,” Julia said.

  “No,” Butler rebutted. “I told you that his plan was to give the shares to us.”

  Standing, I reached for Julia’s hand and spoke to her parents. “It was nice to meet you.”

  The McGraths both stood, recognizing the cue I’d given for them to leave.

  “Hopefully, by this time next year, we can celebrate together as a family. If you’ll excuse us, I don’t want our dinner to be overdone.”

  “Please come home,” Mrs. McGrath said to Julia. “There is no rush for this...wedding.”

  “Not for the wedding, but there is a rush,” Julia said. “The bank wants the balloon payment by the third.” Her blue eyes came to me. “Van is our only hope in making that payment. I can’t and won’t ask him to do that without him knowing I’m steadfast in my decision to marry him. He deserves that.”

  “You can reassure him from Chicago,” her mother said.

  “No, Mom, I’m staying. I’m marrying Van, writing his story, and taking a more active role at Wade.” Before anyone could comment, she looked at me and grinned. “Sixty-five to seventy-five percent.”

  I nodded.

  “Julia...” Her mother’s plea faded away.

  Julia turned to her mother. “Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad. I love you. That hasn’t changed, but I have.” She looked down to where our hands were connected. “Whether Van entering my life was fate or red sin, he’s shown me in this short time that I have a voice and I can use it.”

  “You’ve always had a voice.”

  “No, Mom. I’ve always gone along with yours. Grandpa’s will gives me power. Van’s encouragement has given me the strength to assert it.”

  Mr. McGrath offered me his hand. “Mr. Sherman, my daughter is my single greatest joy. Keeping Wade afloat has been my greatest struggle. I don’t know you, but if you’re sincere, I hope you’re right, and in a year, we can be one family.”

  Releasing Julia, I shook his hand.

  Julia went to her mother and offered her a hug. “Bye, Mom. I’ll be in touch after the first of the year.”

  Mrs. McGrath hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you here all alone.”

  “I’m not alone.”