Across town, Julie Bellevue had been called from her small cottage by the lake by her father, who had fallen from his ladder and hurt his ankle as he was fixing the siding on his house. Julie hovered now by her father’s hospital bed as the doctor informed them that the ankle was indeed broken.
Mr. Bellevue moaned. “Oh, what am I going to do? I have my first appointment with Castle Jewelers in an hour. I must be there!” Julie, who was his youngest daughter, reached for his hand, her beautiful face drawn with sympathy. He turned to her. “Julie. Sweetheart, I’m going to need you to go and take over the job in my place.”
Julie felt some apprehension at this request. The young woman was already an employee of her father’s consulting business that specialized in conflict resolution for businesses and organizations. Though her father had been grooming her in his line of work for years, and the recent acquisition of her master’s degree in transpersonal psychology was already supporting the next step of her getting to take on her own clients, she had not yet served in a capacity beyond providing her father assistance with his cases.
“Please, Julie. This is a very important client—I can’t afford to lose it right now.”
Julie recognized the desperation in his face, and she knew this job was a significant one, both financially and for his reputation. If it were lost, the hard work he had put into forming and running his consulting business for the past several years could be in jeopardy.
So, to save her father’s business, Julie agreed to go to Castle Jewelers headquarters in his place. As she was about to take her leave of the room, her father called to her again.
“Julie,” he said, concern evident on his face. “Your meeting is with the CEO—Heath Castle. The board has hired us to work with him individually in addressing the conflict between him and, well, the rest of the company. I was to coach him in sensitivity training and interpersonal communication.
“I want you to be warned—Heath is not said to be a nice individual. He has, in fact, an ugly reputation. He is reputed
to be a rather beastly manager, very difficult to work with. His workers mostly vacillate between fear and loathing of him, and he’s not even usually seen around the workplace. Generally he locks himself in his office in the highest tower of the building.”
“What makes him so not nice?” Julie asked her father.
Her father shook his head. “I don’t know.” His face crinkled into a smile. “That’s what they pay us to find out.”
Julie smiled and leaned down to kiss her father’s cheek, then turned and hurried out the door and across town to make her father’s appointment at Castle Jewelers on time.
At the highest office in the top of the headquarters building, Julie met the eyes of the company’s thirty-eight-year-old CEO. As she’d read her father’s file, she had been struck by the young age of the head of such a large and lucrative company. Upon reading further she had found that the circumstances surrounding his position were a bit mysterious—it was a family company, and Heath’s mother had taken over after his father had died several years before. She had run the company for a short time before Heath had abruptly assumed the leadership role. There was no further information about his mother’s current status with the company or why this turnover had taken place.
The man in front of her had a tall, sturdy, and potentially intimidating build as he stood behind his desk with his arms crossed. His hair was dark and longish, his suit tailored to fit his bulky frame flawlessly. The truth was that Heath was a handsome man, but no one who worked for him even noticed his physical attractiveness anymore, so accustomed were they to the hideousness of his demeanor.
It was when Julie looked into the man’s eyes that she saw what her father had warned her about. They appeared flat, dark
with hostility and emanating an energy about as welcoming as a prison. In fact, Heath had eyes of a lovely bright blue, but they had reflected darkness for so long that they appeared black to most who looked at him now.
Julie’s father had been retained to conduct a one-hour session with Heath each morning for two weeks. Julie understood immediately the complaints of those who worked for him and the reason the board had procured her father’s services. The voice of the man in front of her was low and menacing, and not once while she was in his office did he smile. At times his demeanor seemed downright ferocious, almost animal-like in the refined environment of posh furniture and spectacular views from the broad windows behind his desk. That day’s meeting was the initial consultation, and Julie’s heart sank a bit as she realized she would be trapped in this office tower with him every weekday morning for the next two weeks.
The beautiful young woman also found herself forgetting the attractiveness of Heath’s physical appearance as she interacted with the internal ugliness that had so obviously alienated his colleagues and employees. Even so, when she stood up at the conclusion of their first session, she found herself admiring his solid build and chiseled features, formed into a frown as frequently as they were. She approached him to shake his hand and bid him well for the day, and his eyebrows came together in an even deeper frown as he hesitated before offering her what may have been the coldest handshake she had ever experienced.
As the week progressed, Julie discovered the predictable resistance to warmth or consideration that Heath displayed. Each day when she came and went, she passed by Vivian, the receptionist, who had made no secret of the fact that she found Julie’s job far from enviable.
“Good luck doing that kind of work with such a beast of a
man,” she’d said not unpleasantly when Julie had introduced herself her first day there. “He’d just as soon growl a nasty comment at you as say hello.”
Julie just smiled and went on her way. To be sure, she found working with Heath distasteful sometimes, and at times she even grew frustrated. But Julie had been raised very consciously, and she knew that the only way to overpower hate was with love. Love could take many forms—kindness, protectiveness, fierceness—but it was essential in all dealings in order for them to be true. So she took a deep breath and found that awareness in her heart, and she responded to Heath from that place.
Though Julie was a clever girl and had discerned an understanding of many things about Heath thus far, she was unaware that an unwanted attraction he felt toward her was making him even edgier than usual. He felt no desire to give in to any kind of connection with anyone, and the carnal pull inside him whenever the image of the beautiful young woman floated across his mind was something he simply clenched his jaw against and pushed from his awareness, as he had so many other things.
When she was physically present in his office, the challenge became considerably more intense. One such time he even found himself idly remembering the single unopened condom he had tossed carelessly in the bottom drawer the morning he had discovered it mysteriously lying beneath his desk. (This was only mysterious to Heath, because he was unaware of the pastime the cleaning crew had begun to enjoy of having irreverent sex atop his desk after hours.) When he realized where his mind had drifted, he had slammed a fist onto his desk and said some vicious thing to the beautiful woman sitting on the other side of it. She had met his gaze, never losing her cool. Heath, on
the other hand, found himself shaking and clamped down with even greater resolve on the unwelcome libidinous urges that had crept their way into his consciousness.
Monday morning of the second week, Julie entered the office in a bright yellow power suit with a lavish bouquet of red roses in her hands. Vivian looked up from her desk as Julie passed by with the large vase.
“Ooh!” the receptionist said, her eyes lighting up. “Who gave you flowers?”
Julie gave a tinkling laugh as she paused. “No one, Viv darling. I bought them myself.”
Vivian’s brow crinkled. “You bought a dozen red roses for yourself?”
Julie laughed again. “They’re for my father. Red is his favorite color. I’m taking them to him later to cheer him as he heals.”
With a little wave she turned and continued down the row of cubicles to the elevators, and a smiling Vivian went back to the work at her desk. Though Julie had been headed to Heath’s office carrying a bouquet of flowers, it never occurred to Vivian or any of the workers at any of the cubicles that the roses might be for him, as no one liked him enough to even consider that anyone would take such interest in him.
Heath didn’t look up as Julie sailed into his office, and she accepted this slight with her usual grace. At the soft sound of the glass vase as she lowered it onto a shelf, his head lifted. He did a double take as his gaze landed on the flowers.
“What the hell are those?” he demanded, his gaze darkening even more than usual.
“Roses,” Julie said, stating the obvious. “I’m taking them to my father’s house on my way home.”
Heath’s glare had grown more pronounced as she spoke,
even as it didn’t leave the blooms now set atop the shelf. “I don’t want them in here. Get rid of them!”
Julie looked at him evenly. “Heath, a little brightness in this room while I’m here is not going to hurt you.”
Heath looked enraged, and he stood up, slamming his palms on the desk in front of him. “If you don’t get them out of here, I’ll do it myself!”
He made a move from behind the desk, and Julie stepped calmly in front of him. Neither spoke for a moment as they stood toe to toe, Heath breathing heavily, Julie meeting his gaze with the silent strength she had always shown in the face of Heath’s hostility. It was this time that she saw, as she looked into his stormy gaze, the flicker of sadness she suspected he didn’t even consciously register. His aggression, his maleness, stood inches from her, and while she felt the stirring of arousal in her gut at the challenge, she took a deep breath and tempered it in the face of her immediate duty.
“What do you have against roses?” she ventured in a quiet voice.
The flicker grew then, but it was quickly replaced by an even stronger fury. “I hate them!” he snarled, moving to push past her, but Julie stayed rooted, and her steadfastness made Heath back up.
The progress Julie had made working with Heath over the past week began to show when Heath chose to offer more information. In a low, furious voice, he muttered through clenched teeth, “They remind me of my mother.”
“What?” Julie was surprised by the disclosure, and she stepped closer to him.
“Nothing!” Just as quickly Heath retracted, and Julie felt his energy draw back in as his nostrils flared with anger.
“Would you like to tell me about your mother?” Julie’s voice
was quiet, the invitation like a feather floating through the air between them.
“My mother was an evil witch! It’s because of her that I’m the way I am!” With this furious outburst Heath stood and stalked to the window, sending his rolling chair flying back to bang against the wall.
Julie looked at him, sensing the importance of his words. “What way is that?”
Heath whirled on her and glared. “Do you think I don’t know what people think about me? What they say? That no one wants me around? Why the fuck do you think I stay locked in my office all damned day? Because I like it so much?” He gave a dry laugh that scraped like metal against concrete. “Not quite, sweetheart. It’s because I know people don’t want me around. Which is fine, because I don’t want to be around them either.”
Julie didn’t answer, sensing, despite his anger, that she should let him continue. The young woman was surprised to find that his use of the word
sweetheart
had given the undeniable arousal in her a jolt. She took a deep breath, however, and released the distraction, focusing again on her present responsibility. She stood still and remained quiet, holding a place of safety for him to speak if he wanted to.
After a few minutes, she heard his voice start up again. “I had a younger sister. We grew up rich, of course. Materially, we had all we could ever want.” His jaw clenched. “But my father worked all the time, and my mother—my mother hurled nothing but cruelty at my sister and me. We threatened to run away, but my mother told us we were ugly children, and that no one else would ever want us.” He turned away from Julie, and she could see him trembling as he stared out the window.
“Michelle killed herself.” The words were like the wretched creak of an abandoned, centuries-old castle door. He stayed
facing away from her. “After that, my mother ran off. I never saw her again.” He turned slowly from the window. Fury seemed to spark from his eyes as he trained his seething gaze on the bouquet of roses on the shelf. “She sent a spray of red roses to Michelle’s funeral, even though she knew Michelle hated red.”
Julie remained silent, allowing Heath’s words to land and be heard.
After several minutes, she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry about your sister.” She paused, then went on. “And I can understand your feeling very hurt by your mother’s actions.”
Heath didn’t move, though she saw his jaw clenching and unclenching.
“And it’s because of that hurt that you’ve treated people so cruelly yourself.” Julie said it as a statement rather than a question. In Heath’s eyes she saw the understanding of the declaration as truth.
It encouraged her, and she spoke again. “What might that tell you about why your mother treated you so cruelly?”
“What?” he snapped.
She repeated herself, pausing to allow the question to register before adding, “I don’t know what happened in her life or why she herself felt so much pain, but the bottom line is, it was likely the pain in her that hadn’t been released that made her treat her children that way.”
A look of sadness came over him like the sun from behind a cloud. “I know what happened to her.” His expression became so distressed it looked as though he might cry. “She
was
hurting.” Then his expression hardened. “But it wasn’t fair for her to take that out on us.”