From This Moment (42 page)

“How could you think I would do something so foolish?” her mother shrieked, her voice loud enough to be heard throughout the entire first floor of Evelyn’s townhouse.

This wasn’t the right time to point out her mother’s obsessive sorting and organizing of every piece of paper Gwendolyn had ever touched. Besides, it felt nice to sit on the sofa and let her mother fuss over her, cuddling, hugging, and smelling of lavender and vanilla. Her father was more circumspect, asking Stella to recount everything that had happened in the cave and the events leading up to it.

To her vast relief, a Boulder Point police officer also had notified her parents about what actually happened to cause Gwendolyn’s death, so Stella hadn’t needed to break the news to them. It was a shock to her mother, but less so for her father.
He’d known the circumstances of Gwendolyn’s death were odd but was busy trying to save his wife.

“I simply couldn’t fight on all fronts,” he said. “I wish I’d known that was the reason you were in Boston. I would have helped you, had I known.”

“It’s over, Father,” she said. “These last few months were terrible, and I didn’t always handle it well, but it’s over now.”

And she would do better in the future. She had been granted a reprieve, and she would learn to count her blessings every day, rather than enumerate the offenses.

“Come, let’s go shopping!” Eloise said. “I think this calls for a new dress or two, hmm?”

How good it felt to step out into the utter normalcy of shopping for clothes. She and her mother tried on a dozen blouses, skirts, and scarves while her father looked on in gentle amusement, giving his opinion when asked, which she and her mother blithely ignored. Few men, Romulus being the notable exception, were qualified to pass judgment on women’s apparel.

Where was Romulus, anyway? After those few hours on the beach, it seemed as if they were destined to become inseparable for the rest of their lives, and yet she’d barely seen him since returning to Boston. Still, she’d bragged about him incessantly to her parents.

“He’s charming,” she had said. “Watch out for that because he uses it to get away with a lot, but I do love him, and I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

Her parents were staying at the same hotel where Romulus lived, and they finally saw him in passing one morning while they were at breakfast. It seemed he intended to head straight to the office, for he passed the dining room without sparing them a glance. Stella had to chase him down in the lobby and prod him into the dining room to meet her parents. Even then,
he seemed anxious and distracted as they approached her parents’ table.

“Mother, Father, this is Romulus White, the man I’ve been telling you about.”

Her parents both rose, and Romulus shook her father’s hand and dutifully leaned over to kiss her mother’s hand.

“Now I know where Stella got her looks,” he said. “Mother and daughter both look lovely enough to have just stepped out of a Botticelli portrait.”

Her mother flushed with pleasure. Stella thought he was laying it on a little thick, but she was relieved he had finally made an appearance after three days of being mysteriously absent.

“Will you join us for breakfast?” her father asked.

“My apologies,” Romulus said. “I have a full schedule today and am already running late.” He was heading out of the restaurant before any of them could utter another word.

Well! After she’d so enthusiastically praised Romulus to her parents, his distraction was a little embarrassing. Her parents smoothed over the awkward moment by suggesting a visit to the Public Garden, where they could walk along the paths meandering through the tulip beds.

Stella agreed. What else could she do, since the man she was practically engaged to did not even have time for a cup of coffee with her? Romulus had asked for
a little time
, and she was going to supply it whether she wanted to or not.

Romulus could practically see the steam coming from Stella’s ears, but he could not spare the time for her this morning. An urgent note from Evelyn had been delivered only moments ago, and he needed to meet with her as quickly as possible. Frankly, he’d prefer a leisurely breakfast alongside Stella and
her parents, instead of the tongue-lashing he was about to get from Evelyn and Clyde.

Breaking the news to Evelyn about selling his magazine shares needed to be handled gently, but the investors from New York had beaten him to the punch. They were legally obligated to inform existing shareholders regarding any change in ownership of the magazine, and apparently that document had arrived on Evelyn’s doorstep this morning.

He straightened his collar and smoothed back his hair before entering the managerial office. The last thing he wanted to discuss was why he’d been so desperate for money when he sold those shares. Clyde and Evelyn ought to be celebrating the rekindling of their marriage and the return of Clyde’s hearing. He didn’t want to make Clyde feel guilty for seeking much-needed treatment at that ridiculously expensive health resort.

Romulus plastered a relaxed expression on his face as he strode onto the fourth floor. Clyde sat on the corner of Evelyn’s desk, playing with the miniature gyroscope she used as a paperweight, but their smiles fled the instant they saw him.

“Hello, dearest,” he said cheerfully.

Evelyn shot to her feet. “We need to talk,” she snapped.

“I expected as much,” he said as he gestured to his private office. They both followed close behind, the air crackling with tension. Everyone in the office had stopped work to stare at them. The typewriters slowed, Millicent’s adding machine ceased, and every eye was on him.

“There’s no cause for alarm,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “We’ve got a magazine to publish by the end of the week. Please get to it.”

The noise in the office resumed, for it was going to take a sprint to get the magazine released on schedule. By the time Romulus had returned from Boulder Point, his new lawyer had
finally gotten around to fighting the injunction, only to learn it had never been officially filed at the Sussex County Court. The paperwork was all a forgery from Ernest Palmer’s clever typesetting operation, just a ploy to throw Romulus off track and away from Stella. The interruption in the magazine’s production had been a costly setback, but they were back in full operation, and he expected subscription rates to soar now that they had the ability to produce full-color images.

He held the door for Clyde and Evelyn. Clyde took a seat, but Evelyn began pacing. “What in pity’s sake were you thinking?” she harangued the moment the door was closed. Clyde merely glowered from the chair.

There was no getting around this, no way to soften the blow. The three of them had been through so much since they’d bought the magazine, but the circle of owners was about to get a lot larger, and there was nothing they could do about it.

“I needed some quick money,” he said quietly. “You know Bertie Watson and his New York investors have been eager for a piece of the magazine for years.”

“Yes, and we always agreed not to sell,” Evelyn retorted. “
Thirty percent?
Are you insane?”

There was no way to make this easier. He drew a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. He really did not want to go into the details. “We’ve had a lot of expenses in the past month,” he said simply.

“What, did you buy a new watch?” she demanded “Perhaps a new stickpin?”

He didn’t answer, and the silence stretched between them. Understanding hit Clyde first. He winced and curled over, cupping his bent head in his hands. Evelyn still didn’t understand.

“It was the clinic, wasn’t it?” Clyde’s voice was sick with regret, and the color dropped from Evelyn’s complexion. Her
face transformed, and she looked ready to cry as she gaped at him as though begging him to deny that was why he needed the money. He rushed to assure her.

“It was also postage for 160,000 letters,” he said. “And a lot of fancy new typeface and lithography equipment, all of which sapped our reserves. And frankly, a ridiculously overpriced parquet floor that I simply had to have. That one is entirely my fault but, yes, I also needed money to pay for a health resort.”

Clyde pushed to his feet. “I’ve got some money saved. Maybe we can buy the shares back.”

It’d be nice if that were an option, but the New York investors would have no interest in it. The deal was a sale, not a loan. Romulus’s limbs felt heavy as he pulled out his chair and sat, running his hands along the smoothly polished walnut surface of his desk. This magazine and all its trappings had always been his greatest pride. It still was, but changes were coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop them. “There’s no going back, Clyde. It’s water under the bridge.”

“But we owe you,” Evelyn said. “We’ve got a fifty-percent stake, and it’s not fair you are down to twenty percent because of us. At the very least, we need to repay you for what you gave me for the resort.”

He swiveled his chair around so he wouldn’t have to look at them. They
did
owe him, and if nothing changed, his minority ownership would eventually sting and chafe as the years rolled by. This was going to have to be handled delicately, because their expenses were about to go up again, and it would be a while before they could earn a profit from the increased subscriptions Stella’s color illustrations would bring. He turned the chair to face them. “Stella will be joining the staff as a full-time illustrator,” he said. “We don’t have any reserves to pay her a salary.
If you sign over ten percent of your shares to Stella, I think she will work for free.”

It ought to have been an easy solution, but Clyde’s face darkened. His fists clenched, and he looked away as he spoke.

“That’s not a good idea,” he said. “I know we need to sign over some of our ownership, but not to Stella. It would be a volatile situation. She’s not family. The New York investors aren’t either, but they live two hundred miles away, and we won’t be dealing with them on a daily basis. And as businessmen, they are going to defer to us about the direction of the magazine. That won’t be the case with someone who works on the third floor. And if things go south between you and Stella, we’ll be stuck with her.”

A reluctant grin twisted Romulus’s mouth. He was
already
stuck with Stella, and he didn’t particularly mind. “Um . . . about Stella not being family,” he said. “I have a strong feeling that is about to change.”

The beginning of a smile lit Evelyn’s face, but she still looked guarded. “If I remember correctly, you are still eight years away from turning forty.”

She let the sentence dangle, and heat flushed his face. Clyde and Evelyn both looked ready to leap up to congratulate him, but his palms were sweaty and his heart rate was picking up. Before him sat two people whose marriage had been pockmarked with calamity, yet still they seemed to think he ought to take the irreversible plunge. This was the biggest commitment of his life, and he wasn’t going to bungle it.

He tugged at his collar. “Yes, well . . . the number forty was somewhat arbitrarily selected.” Mostly it was simply a barrier he used to insulate himself from the prospect of something that had always mildly terrified him. Part of his reluctance was due to Laura, a wonderful person but not the right woman for him.
With the wisdom that came along with the distance of years, he could see that he couldn’t offer the sort of undivided devotion Laura needed to be happy. Stella was far more self-sufficient, and they would get along smashingly well. “Nothing is official yet, but Stella isn’t the sort who’d tolerate being strung along for eight years, so I will need to step things up.”

Clyde and Evelyn put their heads together, whispering behind cupped hands. He’d known from the instant he’d signed the contract selling his shares that it would result in some exquisitely awkward conversations, and this was only the first of many. What did he need a fancy parquet floor for, anyway? He could probably benefit from a dose of Evelyn’s practicality, even though he did love admiring this floor every day as he walked into the office.

After a few minutes, Clyde and Evelyn separated and looked up at him. “We owe you five percent of the shares to pay you back for what you advanced us for the resort,” Evelyn said. “And an additional ten percent to Stella would make a wonderful wedding present, don’t you think?”

It meant that each couple would have a thirty-five percent stake in the magazine. Mathematics had never been his strong suit, so he couldn’t compute the precise value of what they were offering versus what Stella would be paid if she were an employee rather than a shareholder, but he trusted Clyde and Evelyn. Over the years, they had all sacrificed for one another, and they each gratefully accepted help when needed. Counting pennies and keeping score had never come into play between people who loved and trusted each other.

“It’s a deal.”

As Evelyn and Clyde left his office, Riley McGraff walked in the front door. The private detective had warned Romulus that he didn’t like working early-morning hours, and he looked
bedraggled and surly, but there was a lot of work to accomplish and not much time in which to do it. Stella’s parents were going to be in town only for another week, and it was going to be hard to get everything organized in time.