Tracy Solheim - Foolish Games

She shook her head, the words lost in the sobs. Everything was a tangled mess and she couldn’t find the right words to fix it.

“You used me to get money so you can go back to your glamorous life as a designer.”

“It isn’t like that,” she insisted. “I was going to tell you about the new company next week. It’s not what you think.” She was pleading now. “Will, I would never betray you. I love you. Please, believe me.”

He grabbed both her arms and pulled her in closer. She nearly sobbed in relief as his body drew near, her own body arching toward his. But he didn’t gather her in or kiss her. Instead, his fingers tightened around her flesh.

“Why should I believe you,” he snarled, “when all you’ve ever done is try to deceive me. And don’t you dare mock me by saying you love me.” He shook her. “Not ever again, Princess, because I’m not buying it.”

“William Anthony Connelly!” Annabeth shouted over Julianne’s choking sobs and Owen’s wails. “What is going on here?”

Mercifully, his fingers loosened on her arms, and that was when she saw it: the wedding band on Will’s left hand. A ferocious sob escaped her now-shaking body. Will’s eyes followed hers to the ring. He tore his hands away and stripped the band off his finger, waving it in front of her face.

“I’m all done with your foolish games.” He stormed out the door toward the pier.

“No!” Julianne cried, running out onto the verandah behind him. “Please, Will!”

But her cry was whipped away by the rising wind. It was too late; his long strides had already carried him to the dunes. She wept along with her son as Will tossed the ring into the high tide. Julianne’s knees buckled at the sight and her body landed in a heap on the wood decking.

She wasn’t sure how she got to her room. Several hours had passed since the confrontation with Will, and darkness had settled like a shroud over the house. Switching on the bedside lamp, Julianne had vague recollections of Will stepping around her crumpled form earlier and kissing a tearful Owen on the head. He’d told their son he’d be back in a few days, but he hadn’t bothered speaking to her. Then he drove off in the rental car with his agent.

Julianne’s eyes were heavy and they burned. Her legs wobbled as she made her way to the nursery. Owen was sleeping fitfully in his crib. As she gently rubbed a hand over his back, he instantly calmed to a deeper sleep. The wind whipped beyond the windows and the ocean roared. How foolish she’d been, always worried the sea would sweep away the ones she loved. The ocean hadn’t taken Will away; Julianne had accomplished that with one misspoken sentence. And the pain was like a knife wound to her belly.

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.