“When I purchased the house, I had it gutted, expanded, and redone,” I said. “Suites seemed to be the thing to build. My architect believed that should I decide to sell, the suites would increase its value, making it a viable bed and breakfast. I’m not interested in selling.” I reached for her hand. As we touched one another, I immediately regretted my move and let our connection drop.

Even so, the tingle remained.

Red sin.

“This way,” I said, leading the way to the south wing, my thoughts filled with the woman at my side.

From the first time I saw Julia standing half-frozen along the road, I was pulled toward her. In all honesty, it happened before I saw her. It was as I found her car.

Never in my life had I been called a hero nor did I deserve that title. Never did I seek out the stranded or misguided to lead them to the straight and narrow path of goodness and safety. My motives were usually more self-gratifying and less altruistic.

And yet seeing the empty car buried in the snowbank, I felt an unexplainable urgency to search. With worsening conditions, when a sane man would have driven to the safety of his home, I slowed my speed and peeled my eyes through the darkening sky and blinding blizzard.

I didn’t know her name nor did she know mine, and yet once she was in my arms and I laid her down in my truck, I wanted to keep her.

A saying from my childhood came to mind: finders keepers.

I found her.

Julia was mine, and I wasn’t going to let her go.

Over the last eleven years, I’d reined in that all-consuming desire.

I’d refocused my needs away from the unthinkable to the goal of obtaining things. It didn’t matter what—I wanted it and took it.

I’d concentrated day and night on what I did well and made what I did better, more profitable, superior and grander than before. As I pushed to succeed, the name Sherman, one that was barely known or recognized, became equated with power and savvy in the world of high finance. Fifty-million-dollar deals became one hundred million. One hundred million became one billion. I moved up and over those blocking my path toward success.

I made enemies.

Some enemies became friends.

Others remain embroiled in their adversarial role.

Or perhaps it was me who was the adversary.

It’s the way I preferred to see it.

On the offensive, the predator ready to attack.

In general, I kept my distance, always appearing as the facade of the man society required me to be. The cloak of normality grew heavy at times, too heavy to maintain.

This home became my retreat, my place away from the world, a place where I could safely examine and overcome those things that needed to stay hidden.