Free Julie and Romeo by Jeanne Ray Page B

you, Julie Roseman.”
    I kissed him again. The last thing either of us was feeling rightnow was sexy, and yet I knew I was crazy for him, too. I said good night and for the second time that night I unlocked the door and went upstairs to my room.
    I would have thought I’d spend the night staring at the wall and wringing my hands, but I don’t think I’d ever been that tired in my life. I barely struggled out of my clothes, which I left in a heap on the floor and fell into bed.
    When Sandy woke me it was bright outside, not just light but daytime. “I took the kids to school already. Are you feeling all right? Did you and Gloria tie one on last night?”
    I really had to think about what she was talking about. I could barely open my eyes. Dear Sandy had brought me both a cup of coffee and an alibi. “I don’t know what I was thinking of,” I said, reaching for the coffee. “Gloria is such a bad influence on me.”
    “White wine?” Sandy asked.
    “Manhattans,” I whispered hoarsely. “Then pinot noir with dinner.”
    “Grape and grain,” Sandy said sympathetically. “You shouldn’t ever do that. Red wine always does me in.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    She patted my knee beneath the covers. “Well, I’ll go on in and get things started at the shop. You come when you can. Do you think you can come in?”
    “Oh, sure. I just need a minute to pull myself together. I’ll be right behind you.”
    Sandy smiled at me, her heart full of sympathy for my hangover. She closed the door quietly behind her.
    I leaned over and called Gloria.
    “Naked?” she said. “You met his son naked?” Again, she was laughing to the point of blind hysteria. I thought about hanging up on her, but she was my only ally.
    “Shut up,” I said. “I mean it. I have no sense of humor this morning.”
    She sputtered a few times, laughed a little more, and then cleared her throat. “Okay,” she said. “I’ve got this under control. I’m with you.”
    “I wasn’t naked when I met him. I made it back to the cooler and put my clothes on.”
    “So let me get this straight: You had sex before you met the son or after?”
    “Neither. We never got there.”
    “You went through all of this and you didn’t even get any?”
    “You have to believe me, after I met the son, sex was no longer on the agenda. I don’t know if it’s ever going to be on the agenda again. I feel like I could coast through another five years of celibacy after last night.”
    “He’s going to tell, you know. You might as well get ready for it.”
    “Who? Romeo?”
    “No, the son, Raymond. He’ll tell all those little Cacciamanis. You’re going to have some major repercussions from this, I’m afraid.”
    “Poor Romeo,” I said.
    “I’m not talking about Romeo. I’m talking about you. Those people hate the Rosemans, Julie. You watch your back.”
    Gloria read detective stories. She liked to use phrases like “Watch your back.” I told her I would.
    After taking the most cursory of showers, I pulled on a T-shirt and some jeans, put a smock over that, and headed to the shop. At the stoplight I had a fashion moment and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I should have spent the day in bed with cucumber slices on my eyes, but I figured work was the only way to take my mind off my problems. I thought I would call my distributor and see about ordering some azaleas. I couldn’t imagine where this thing was headed or how I would see Romeo again, but when the despair felt like it was going to strangle me, I would remember those kisses, in the car, in front of the house, by the orchids, in the cooler. Those kisses were my salvation. They threw a life raft into the sea in which I was drowning and pulled me up.
    I parked the car and headed into the shop. Through the window I saw Sandy talking to a customer. Then I looked again. I knew Sandy’s every expression, and even from a distance I could tell she was cowering. I heard a loud voice. I stepped up my pace