If This Was a Movie (Evergreen Park #2)

Chapter 6 – Jules

SIX

JULES

Every prayer I send up to whoever will listen goes unanswered as the man nears, and it only gets worse when the girl at my side yells, “Daddy!”

I blink a few times, hoping my vision is just inexplicably fucking with me, but each time they open, he just gets closer.

Nate, the man I spent two magical nights with last year. The one I met in a bar and made me believe I’d found that once in a lifetime, love at first sight, what movies are made of kind of story, only to discover he had a wife and kid. His green eyes are locked on the girl now holding my hand as he moves toward us. When the gap between us is barely ten feet and quickly closing, he shouts, “Sophie, what were you thinking!?”

“I found her, Dad! I found her!” she replies, excitement in her voice as her hand squeezes hard on mine, keeping me grounded in reality. Something I greatly need when his eyes finally leave the girl and meet mine.

That’s when his entire body goes still as he breathes out my name. “Jules.” The single word makes me stumble, and I don’t know if I do it physically or just internally when I see his face, the look of panic quickly melting into astonishment.

It’s really him.

No wonder this girl looks familiar: she looks like him. Against my will and better judgment, I stare as he approaches, taking him in fully. Not much had changed since I saw him last: longish dark blond hair messily pushed back, a dark brown work jacket over an olive green sweater and jeans, and a pair of beat-up boots on his feet.

A tall blonde woman walks behind him, and I recognize the build and the hair as the woman I saw in the grocery store. She stops beside him, and my eyes lock on her, unable to look away.

“Daddy, I found Ashlyn!” the little girl shouts, tugging my hand.

“Uh,” he says, looking from the girl to me, a flash of panic filling his face as he puts some kind of pieces together. “She does. What are you doing here?” he asks, his question directed at me.

I continue to glare at him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

The little girl tugs on my hand again and then shows me the doll in her free hand.

“We were seeing Santa! I made a wish that we would find the real-life Ashlyn, and it came TRUE!”

As if this night couldn’t get any worse, this girl thinks I’m her Christmas wish come to life. I look down at my outfit, realizing with an ounce of horror I do kind of look like her Ashlyn doll dressed up like this.

“Jesus, Sophie, what was that all about?” the girl’s mother asks as she makes it through the crowd, stopping right behind Nate.

“I found Ashlyn!” the girl, I’m assuming is named Sophie, shouts, and the woman gives me a head-to-toe before smiling.

“I guess you did, didn’t you?” Nate sighs, running a hand over his face.

“Sloane, this is Jules. Jules, this is Sloane, my?—”

Your wife, I think.

You know, this is so my kind of luck. The worst day of my life, standing in the cold in a ballerina costume while the entire city of Evergreen Park finds out I’m a moron who doesn’t know to drip my water lines during a cold snap, and the man who fooled me and his wife get a full view of it.

“Sister.”

His sister.

His sister.

His SISTER.

Oh, god. This is definitely the same woman I saw in the grocery store, but if this is his sister…

“God, you guys are fast!” another woman says, and all eyes move to the new face, a girl in heeled boots and a sweater dress, whose face lights up when she sees me. “Jules! Hey!”

I recognize her as Claire’s older sister who has come out with us to get drinks once or twice, and once more, my world tilts on its axis. Her eyes widen as she takes in the fire trucks and chaos.

“Oh my god, look at you! What happened? Is everything okay with the studio? Oh look, Claire is here!” she says, jumping from one topic to the next and looking over my shoulder.

When I turn, Claire is walking toward our little group with a wide smile.

“There you are! I was just trying to call you,” she says to Nate.

No, no, no , I think, as things continue to click into place.

No.

My luck cannot be this bad, can it? But it gets worse when the little girl holding my hand tugs it and speaks. “Aunt Claire, look! It’s her! It’s Ashlyn!”

Claire looks from me to the doll in her niece’s hand and smiles.

“Oh my god, she sure does!” Claire bends to grab and lift the little girl, placing her on her hip.

“I told Santa I wanted to meet the real-life Ashlyn for Christmas so she could fall in love with Dad, and now she’s here!”

I think I’m starting to get lightheaded, and my friend’s smile grows.

“You know Jules?” Nate asks, looking from me to Claire.

“Well, yeah, she owns the studio I work at.” Her brow furrows and turns fully to who I understand is her brother, accusation filling her tone. “How do you know Jules?”

I open my mouth to give some explanation—literally any explanation for how I know this man other than I fucked him a few times before thinking he was a liar with a wife and kid—but Nate speaks first.

“I met her last New Year’s,” he says. It’s not a lie, but thankfully, it doesn’t reveal much. Or so I think, but Nate’s sisters’ eyes go wide before looking at me with wide smiles.

“Oh,” Claire says. I have no idea what that oh means, but I somehow know it’s not good.

“No way,” the other sister says, Sloane just smiling wide.

“I, uh…” I start trying to find some way to get out of this hellscape so I can focus on more important issues. Right now, I need to get out of this costume, into my coziest clothes, and figure out how to get my things and where to sleep for the night before I have the world’s biggest breakdown.

“So, wait, what’s going on?” Sloane asks, tipping her chin to the fire engines with their lights on, the crew of men huddled around. They came to turn the water off in the building and are making sure it’s cleared.

“I uh…a water leak. Apparently, it’s just too cold for these pipes, and my upstairs bathroom isn’t insulated enough. Something must have cracked. I don’t know; it flooded my place and the dance studio.” I sigh before shivering from the cold, Nate’s eyes narrowing on me.

“How long has it been, you out here in the cold like that?” There’s an edge to his voice, like he’s annoyed or mad, but I barely feel the cold at this point. I’m numb from it and the million other feelings running through me.

I try and ignore his glare as I look at my watch and shrug. “Not sure, maybe an hour?”

“An hour? Jesus. That’s unacceptable.”

He shifts then, shrugging off his thick tan jacket, draping it over my shoulders. In my peripheral vision, Claire elbows Sloane, and Sutton whispers something I probably don’t want to hear.

“You don’t have to give me this, I’m fine,” I say, even though it’s warm and smells like Nate and feels absolutely amazing.

Nate glares at me and opens his mouth, but his sister interrupts.

“You should go talk to Mark, see what’s taking so long,” Claire says with a smug smile.

“Yeah. Stay here; I’ll try and move things along,” Nate says with a nod.

“That’s really not necessary—” I start, but he’s already turning, moving to the fire chief, who greets him like an old friend with a handshake and a pat on the back.

“Let him do his thing,” Claire says. “He knows everyone, can figure out what the next steps are, and when you can get some things to tide you over for a night or two.”

I sigh, then slip my arms into the jacket. If it’s already on me, might as well warm up. Or, at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I definitely am not just trying to take in the smell and feel of Nate while I can. That would be crazy.

“Where are you staying tonight?” Sloane asks.

I shrug.

“I uh.” My mind moves over the money in my savings that I’ve been saving for a larger studio, groaning internally as I do, but using the money is much better than the alternative. “I think I’ll have to go on to a hotel?—”

“Oh, god, no!” Sloane shakes her head. “That’s going to cost a million dollars, if they even have any openings,” she remarks, using the same logic her sister did earlier.

They’re not wrong. This weekend is the town lighting, one of the few times a year our tiny town is flooded with non-locals to see the wonder that is Evergreen Park at Christmastime. Because of this, hotels cost an arm and a leg and book up fast.

“It’s really my only choice, you know? I don’t want to bother my friends, and my mom isn’t…the ideal place for me to stay. It’s really all I’ve got right on such short notice.”

“Are any even going to be open?” Sloane asks, grabbing her phone and scrolling. Looking at her properly, she looks so much like her sister but has a more professional, no-bullshit way about her that is completely the opposite of Claire.

“Probably not,” Claire agrees. “I was calling you guys before because I told her she should just stay in Nate’s guest house.” A knowing smile pulls along her lips with the words, and I watch as her two other sisters smile and nod in agreement.

“I—” I start with a shake of my head, but Sloane cuts me off.

“Oh, that’s genius!” she says.

“It’s not even really attached to his house. I lived there for a bit when I moved back to Evergreen Park, too. It’s really cute!” Sutton adds.

“I couldn’t?—”

Claire ignores my argument, turning to Sloane. “Has he found someone to watch Sophie when he’s not around?”

“I don’t need—” Sophie starts, but her aunt breaks in.

“You know, I don’t think he has.” There’s a tip to her lips like she’s catching on to whatever grand scheme Claire is hatching. “You know, Nate’s a contractor. I bet he could help with the repairs.” Sloane waves her arm at my building. “And you could help out with Sophie on the nights he works late.”

I pull the edges of the jacket closer, needing the comfort of it now. “I really don’t think?—”

“It’s perfect!” Claire says, then turns to me. “It’s not often, the babysitting, just like, once a week and getting her off the bus if you’re around.”

“You’re my new nanny?!” the little girl shrieks, and the panic continues to close in on me as her aunt puts her back down on the ground.

“No, no, I?—”

“I mean, you’re so great with kids, you teach all of those classes, Jules! And you babysit, right?” Claire asks, knowing the answer. Sometimes parents of the kids I teach ask me to come sit for them on a date night, and I’m always more than willing to help if I’m free.

“Well, yeah, but?—”

“It’s settled then,” Claire says, a self-assured smile on her lips. “God, if I had known you were her, I totally would have pushed for you to go on a date with my brother harder. I told you you would get along!” She did, months ago, and I turned her down, telling her I had a bad experience recently that put me off dating for a bit. Claire gives me a small smile. “You’ll just stay in the cottage while this all gets sorted out and occasionally babysit.”

I open my mouth to argue but don’t even get a squeak out this time. It seems these women are hell on wheels when they get an idea in their heads.

“You can’t trust me with your niece,” I say, but she gives me a be-so-real look because even I know that’s not true. We spend a lot of time together, nearly every day. “I could be dangerous, and you’d never know! I appreciate the offer, really, but I can’t accept that. Plus, I doubt your brother would be okay with your friend moving in with him.”

“Literally anyone on those nanny sites could also be dangerous, and we’d never know. I listen to true crime podcasts. Anyone could snap at any moment, becoming a total psycho. At least we know who you are,” Sloane says, her sister nodding as if it’s the utmost bit of logic.

“ I actually don’t know you,” I say to Nate’s other sisters.

“Oh, I’m Sloane. See? Now you know me. Perfect. So a place to live, got that. That’s your dance studio?”

I nod, a bit frazzled. Everything right now is utter chaos, and it seems everything I’m saying is going right over these women’s heads. This is so my kind of luck.

Let’s see, first, I have nowhere to live and nowhere to work. Then, the man I thought was a piece of shit so I ghosted him, is actually my friend’s brother, and his sisters are attempting to convince me to essentially move in with him.

Oh, and his daughter seems to think I’m her Ashlyn doll come to life to fulfill some kind of Christmas wish.

Claire, clearly either oblivious to my panic or not caring at all, turns to her sister. “Do you think Mom has any contacts at the community center? Jules could run her classes there in the meantime, it’s usually pretty empty in December.”

“Definitely,” Sloane says, pulling out her phone and tapping on it. “I’ll fill her in now, and she’ll get working on it.”

“Perfect!” Sutton says with a happy little clap of her hands. “It’s set! Nothing to worry about anymore!”

“I’m sorry, I really appreciate all of this, but it’s so very unnecessary. I?—”

“Do you know if your clothes were damaged? We can try and see if we have anything that would fit you. You and Sutton look about the same size.”

“I have way too many clothes! You can totally go shopping in my closet,” Sutton says.

“If you need furniture, I’m sure our dad has—” Claire starts, but the anxiety bubbles over.

“Stop!” I shout as loud as I feel comfortable without drawing additional attention. Everyone around me goes silent, and I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” I say, taking in a deep breath when all four women stare at me with wide eyes, including little Sophie. “That was rude. I appreciate the kindness, really. But I’m panicking enough, and I just need to make it through the night. I appreciate the offers, but I don’t need you to go out of your way. I’ll figure it all out myself.”

All three of the sisters look at each other, not offended by my outburst or my declining their help, instead smiling at each other before Sloane puts an arm around my shoulder and sighs.

“So I hate to tell you this, but this is just the Donovan way,” Sloane says. “You get used to it. We see someone in need, we chip in. Especially when we claim you as one of our own.”

My eyes drift across the way to where Nate is talking to the fire chief, pointing my way and nodding. When he catches my eye, his lips tip up in a soft smile, and despite everything, butterflies in my belly flutter like they’ve never been gone.

I’ve completely lost it.

I sigh before turning to Sloane. “The only kind of help I need right now is a fucking lobotomy,” I mumble under my breath.