Forty-one years had taught me one thing I couldn’t deny. I knew myself. I knew what I was capable of doing. I also knew that I hadn’t felt this way around a woman in a long time. Perhaps I was wrong about my doomsday outlook. Maybe time had tamed the beast within me. Over ten years had passed since I let the beast win.

I had to believe that Julia was different and I could control the man I’d been.

This agreement would end up either very good or very bad.

Time held the answer.

“I haven’t changed my mind. I’ll take the job,” she said with a smile.

My cold heart didn’t know if it should leap with joy or sink with despair. It wasn’t easy to have hope when for so long it had been an elusive bitch. And yet staring down at Julia’s blue kaleidoscope within her expressive orbs, I told myself that this relationship would end differently.

After all, it had begun differently.

Life wasn’t a loop such as the movie Groundhog Day would suggest.

This was a new chance.

“Then it’s settled,” I said. “Welcome.”

11. Julia

Julia

I stepped into the lobby of the hotel in Ashland. The large hotel was constructed on the shore of the Chequamegon Bay in 1877, by the Wisconsin Central Railroad interests. The stately wooden pillars and trim created an atmosphere that gave one the feeling of stepping back in time. Its central location within Ashland was perfect for visitors. It had been perfect for me, allowing me to peer out my window at the frozen bay and walk a few blocks to shops and restaurants.

With my mind on my decision to move in with Van, I wasn’t paying attention. I should have been looking around at my surroundings. I wasn’t.

“Julia.”

I sucked in a breath at the familiar voice.

The counter ahead of me was empty. I turned toward the lobby, seeing the fireplace and furniture, and yet not one chair or sofa was occupied. I turned again in time to come face-to-face with Skylar Butler.

I’d never denied he was handsome; neither had he.

His dark blond hair was combed back. His khaki pants and brown loafers showed below the hem of his unbuttoned wool coat. The coat parted enough to see his patterned button-up shirt, undone at his neck. This was Skylar’s idea of casual.

His blue eyes met mine. “Julia, we need to talk.”

With my hands in the pockets of my coat, I stood taller. “Skylar, you didn’t need to make this trip.” My gaze narrowed. “How did you know where I was?”

He took a step closer. “I know you rented a car. We can return it here in Ashland and drive back to Chicago together. That will give us time to talk.”

“I don’t need time. I don’t need to talk.”