Page 106 of Terms + Conditions
Either way, I have to get ahold of Juliet, and hopefully Ed Brown can help me with that if Brie can’t. Does he work on holidays? I’d imagine so—Nina called him the day after Christmas, after all. One thing that’s been on my mind: when we finally learn the truth, what do I say to Juliet when we speak for the first time in over fifteen years?
Stepping up to the third floor, Brie walks out of the bedroom, and I have to do a double take. For a moment, I swear I’m looking at Juliet with her skin and angel face—big brown eyes and a small button nose. She even has the same dimple on her right cheek. If it weren’t for Brie’s brunette hair, I’d swear itwasJuliet.
“Everything okay?” she asks, breaking the spell.
“F-fine.” I clear my throat and stuff my hands in my pockets. “Dinner is ready.”
She nods and walks past me to the stairs but pauses a few steps down. “Josh, I—”
My brow quirks in response when she doesn’t continue.
“I um—I talked to my mom a few minutes ago.” Her words come out more confident with each word. “You were on the phone, though, so she told me not to bother you.”
“Brie!”
“I’m sorry! When I told her you were on the phone, she told me not to disturb you.”
“Call her back,” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. “Right now.”
“She can’t answer, but…you can call tomorrow. Yeah! She said that she’ll be available tomorrow.”
I sigh and rub the crease of my forehead—the beginning stages of a headache building between my eyes. “Brie, I need to speak with your mother. I don’t care if I’m on the phone or working or whatever excuse you come up with to not interrupt me…Just do it. Do you understand?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
NOW
“I APOLOGIZE FOR THE late call,” Ed Brown says from across the table at Millers All Day. My stomach plummeted when I saw his name stretched across my screen last night. He had called to set up a meeting for this morning—answering my earlier question about whether or not he worked on holidays. Was New Year’s Eve technically a holiday, though?
He was already here when we arrived, sipping on a cup of coffee that had just been refilled by Holly, the same server from the last time we were here. She offered him something to eat, but he politely declined as we slid into the booth, my eyes drawn to the folder in the middle of the table. He waited to begin until after we had placed our order with Holly, both of us only ordering a coffee. I’m not sure we could stomach anything more right now.
My eyes shift between him and the manila folder beneath his hands. He’s found something. That much is reassuring, but whatever is in that folder is about to change our lives forever, and that scares the shit out of me.
“I know it’s the holiday, but I didn’t think you’d want to wait.” He clears his throat and pulls the folder toward him. “Do you recognize this man?”
He sets a photo face-up on the table, and I have to do a double-take.
“Isn’t that…Justin?” Elizabeth asks, picking up the photo to get a better look. Showing it to me, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that it is Justin.
“So, you do know him?” Ed confirms.
“We went to college together,” I say. “Well, for a while, he transferred after—”
“After a hazing incident in which he ended up in the hospital.” The older man takes a sip of coffee, his sharp stare locked on me the whole time. “Yes, I’m aware.” Ed pulls a packet from the folder. “Mrs. Villa’s lawyer did a great job covering up the fact that you were involved in the incident, but I’m a lot more thorough than most.”
Before me, a copy of the contract Elizabeth and I signed ten years ago. How in the hell did he get that? Looking up from the contract, I meet his blank stare.
“What does that have to do with any of this?” I hiss, shoving the papers back toward him. “I thought you were supposed to be looking for Juliet, not digging intoourpast.”
“Justin is Juliet’s brother.” He says it so simply, so plainly, my brain almost doesn’t register the words. Did he just say Justin is Juliet’sbrother?How did I not know that?
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Elizabeth scoffs, turning to glare at me.
“I had no idea!” I defend myself. “I didn’t—Justin has never told me he had a sister.”
“They weren’t very close, from the intel I’ve gathered,” Ed says, pulling out another photo. A family stands in front of a large two-story house—a boy, maybe three or four, stands next to a girl, maybe six or seven, in front of their parents. There’s a cluster of palm trees in the corner, a bush with pink flowers nearthe front door, and shrubs lining the front under the windowsill. “They share a father but not much else.”
“But he’s from Washington—”
