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—”