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  He thought back to the gala and recalled the tall woman he’d spotted several times. He’d sensed someone watching him throughout the night. His date had even remarked on it, but Jonathan had brushed it off as a weird paranoia.

  “Were you wearing a burgundy gown with a big, puffy skirt, and a lace mask over your eyes?”

  After a moment, she nodded.

  Jonathan saw red.

  His anger over the fact that she’d been back in town for two weeks already—and didn’t have the courtesy to let the man she was engaged to marry even know—had nothing on the fury surging through him right now. She’d been right there! She’d been in the same damn room with him. After being apart for three years, how could she have been only steps away for an entire evening and not tell him? How in the hell was that supposed to make him feel?

  If he’d known she was there that night, nothing would have stopped him from going to her. It wouldn’t have mattered that so much time had passed.

  “Jonathan,” she said his name and his entire being experienced an electric volt. “I know things can never be what…well, what they were. I don’t expect them to be. But I’m hoping we can at least be…well…friendly to each other.”

  He stood there for a moment, contemplating all the things he’d wanted to be to her. All the things he was supposed to be: her lover, her husband, the father of her children. She’d tossed aside everything he’d offered, and now she wanted them to be friendly?

  Would a friend have avoided him like a damn coward at the gala? Would a friend have ignored him the way she had since she returned to New Orleans? Fuck being her friend.

  He took a step closer, lowering his voice for the baby’s sake.

  “I agreed to help Angus with his issue, but that’s as far as my friendliness goes. Three years ago I offered you much more than friendship, and you tossed it in my face. I have no desire to be your friend.”

  She flinched. For a brief second, Jonathan wanted to take the words back. Just the thought of hurting her pierced his chest with an all-consuming ache.

  But he suppressed the urge to comfort her. She hadn’t cared about how much she’d hurt him three years ago. Maybe it was time she learned how it felt.

  Ivana entered through the back door of her mother’s house and kicked off her wet shoes, shoving them against the wall. She unwrapped the soaked pashmina from around her shoulders and tried to summon the will to toss it, along with the load of dirty laundry that had been sitting in the hamper since Wednesday, into the washing machine. She opened the washer’s lid, but then closed it. She was too dejected to think about laundry right now. After her run-in with Jonathan, it felt as if all the energy had been sapped from her body.

  Whatever pinprick of hope she’d held regarding their future withered and died back there in her nephew’s nursery. She didn’t recognize the man who’d so coldly tossed aside her offer of friendship. The teasing, flirtatious fiancé she’d left behind three years ago had turned into a virtual stranger.

  “He hates you,” Ivana whispered, the reality of it slamming into her stomach.

  She’d thought his indifference stung, but what she’d seen from him today—the coarse rage tightening his jaw, the sheer fury sparking like fire in his eyes—it hurt so much more. If he’d remained indifferent, maybe she could have kept telling herself there was a chance. She could no longer lie to herself after today.

  Jonathan Campbell would never love her again. And she had no one to blame but herself.

  Ivana walked into the kitchen and stopped at the sight of her mother sitting on one of the high-backed stools at the kitchen island.

  “You’re back,” Ivana said unnecessarily.

  “I am,” Sylvia replied. “We left Biloxi early, hoping to beat the rain, but it caught up to us just as we crossed the state line. I was going to go to Sienna’s but I figured most people had left by the time I got back. Did she have a nice crowd?”

  “You know the Holmeses,” Ivana said. “They never miss the chance to get together for a party. If I’d known you were back I would have brought you a plate.”

  “No need to bother.” She flicked her hand nonchalantly. “Toby’s dropping one off to me on his way back from bringing Margo home. I can count on my son-in-law to take care of me.”

  Ivana didn’t know what to make of her mother’s new attitude, especially when it came to Sienna and Toby. Maybe it was the grandchildren she’d always desperately wanted that had mellowed her out.

  Sylvia Culpepper wasn’t the easiest woman to like. Ivana loved her; she was her mother after all. But to like her? That was a different story. On most days, oil and water got along better than she and her mother did. Sylvia had never attempted to see things from Ivana’s perspective, and after so many years of trying, Ivana had stopped trying to see things from hers.

  But maybe things could be different now. Maybe they could finally get along.

  “So, how are you doing after being at the party?” her mother asked.

  Ivana shrugged as she walked to the refrigerator and took out the pitcher of sweet iced tea. “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Fine? Really?”

  She turned to find Sylvia staring at her with a raised brow.

  “Should I not be fine?” Ivana asked.

  “I’m assuming little Jonah’s godfather was at the party, so no, I don’t expect you to be fine. That couldn’t have been easy for you, seeing Jonathan for the first time after all these years. Especially after the way things ended between the two of you.”

  Ivana froze in the middle of bringing the cup up to her mouth. This was the first time her mother had brought up Jonathan since her return from Haiti.

  “Um, actually, this wasn’t my first time seeing him since I got back,” Ivana said. “I went to his office earlier this week, and Sienna and I went to The Hard Court this past weekend.”

  Her mother’s penciled-in eyebrows arched. “Really? Why were you at his law office?”

  “A friend of mine needed help with a legal issue. I went to Jonathan to see if he could get him out of the bind. He did.”

  “Hmm…” Sylvia murmured. “I’m not surprised. Jonathan’s a good man. Unlike that first husband you had.”

  Ivana nearly spit out the tea she’d just sipped. Years ago, her mother thought Michael Coleman hung the moon, the sun, and the stars. Ivana’s decision to divorce him had been just one of the many bones of contention between them. When had her tune changed?

  “So, who all came to the christening party?” Sylvia asked.

  Ivana shrugged. “I guess you can say it was the typical crowd. Most of the Holmeses, along with a couple of Toby and Sienna’s friends.”

  “Any strangers?”

  Ivana frowned. “Strangers?”

  Her mother let out an exasperated breath. “Did he have someone with him?” Sylvia asked.

  “He? Do you mean Jonathan?”

  “Yes, Jonathan. Did he bring a date?”

  “No, he was alone.”

  “Hmm…?”

  “What’s with you and all the ‘hmms’?” Ivana asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Releasing her own sigh, Ivana started for her bedroom.

  “Actually, it’s not nothing,” Sylvia called.

  Ivana turned to face her. “What was that?”

  “It’s not nothing,” her mother repeated. “I find it interesting that he didn’t bring a date with him this time. Whenever I’ve attended something at Cee Cee and Toby’s, Jonathan has always had another woman on his arm.”

  “Oh wow, Mother! Thanks!” Ivana clamped her hands together in exaggerated excitement. “That makes me feel so much better.”

  “It was meant to. There’s a chance he decided not to bring a date because he knew you would be there.” Her mother set the cup of coffee she’d been drinking down on the marble countertop. “Of course, it stands to reason that whatever woman he’s seeing these days had other plans and couldn’t make it.”

  “Oh, yes, that
makes me feel a ton better,” she said, inserting as much sarcasm into her voice as she could muster.

  “Just trying to look at things from every angle,” her mother said. “Whether you believe me or not, I don’t want you getting hurt, Ivana.”

  “Really? When did you start caring about my feelings?”

  Sylvia didn’t respond. She just stared down her nose with that superior look that always made Ivana feel like a chastised child.

  “I’m sorry,” Ivana muttered. “That was uncalled for.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  Her jaws hurt from the effort it took to keep her mouth shut. She would not reply. She would not.

  So much for them getting along.

  “I hope you weren’t expecting Jonathan to welcome you back with open arms,” her mother continued. “You had to have known that he would have moved on by now.”

  “Of course I wasn’t expecting that,” Ivana lied. “And what makes you think I haven’t moved on? I’m the one who left, remember?”

  “We all remember that,” Sylvia said. She put her hands up. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t setting yourself up for disappointment.”

  Ivana swallowed down her feelings with the last of her iced tea.

  “Don’t worry, Mother. I’m not disappointed,” she lied. “I was only hoping Jonathan and I could be friends. I’m not pushing him to do anything he doesn’t want to do.” She shrugged. “Not that it really matters. I’m only here for another month and a half anyway.”

  She still wasn’t sure if that was the case, but Sylvia didn’t need to know that. No one did. Not yet.

  Ivana left her mother in the kitchen and went into the guest room she’d occupied since coming back home. The lifeless room, with its gray walls, gray furniture and overall coldness was the antithesis of everything she loved, which is probably why it fit Sylvia’s style so well.

  Her mother had moved out of the house where they’d all grown up, buying this new, bigger house, a few years ago. It made no sense to Ivana. But, then again, a lot of what her mother did had never made sense. She’d never understood Sylvia’s obsession with appearances, and her need to impress others. If one of her society friends bought a new car, her mother traded hers in for something bigger and better. If a church member bought new furniture, took an exotic trip, or did something as simple as attending church with a new hat, her mother became obsessed with one-upping them.

  Ivana suspected it’s why her mother had spent so many years being disappointed in her three daughters. Ivana, Sienna, and their oldest sister, Tosha, had all remained single and childless well into their twenties, while the children of Sylvia’s friends had all married and had boatloads of babies. Her mother hated that she was the last to become a grandmother. No doubt it’s why she was now Toby’s biggest fan. He’d given her the one thing she couldn’t buy.

  If Ivana had made different choices three years ago, Toby wouldn’t be her mother’s only son-in-law. Sienna’s three kids wouldn’t be her only grandchildren.

  Self-pity burned like acid in the pit of her stomach.

  Ivana fell on top of the duvet, resting her chin on her folded arms. She’d known things would be uncomfortable at Toby and Sienna’s. She thought she would be able to handle it, but she hadn’t been prepared for that level of scrutiny. She’d felt like a bug under a microscope, with everyone watching her and Jonathan’s every move.

  What had they expected? A fight? Some big, emotional scene? Were they all waiting for Jonathan to curse her out in front of the entire crowd?

  They should have known better. Jonathan would never do anything like that, no matter how much he disliked a person.

  Dislike was probably too kind a word.

  It became harder and harder to swallow past the painful lump in her throat. Ivana turned onto her back and fiddled with the ring that had hung on the chain between her breasts for the past three years. She’d considered mailing it back to him so many times, but could never bring herself to do it. After her encounter with him in Jonah’s nursery today, wearing Jonathan’s ring so close to her heart seemed pointless. She no longer had his heart. He’d made that painfully obvious.

  Slipping the chain from around her neck, she let the diamond ring rest in her palm before putting it and the chain in the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed.

  Ivana was suddenly hit with a paralyzing sense of grief.

  She’d lied when she said she only wanted his friendship. Her most heartfelt fantasy, the one she refused to share with anyone, consisted of Jonathan welcoming her back into his life with the love, joy, and passion they’d once shared. She told Sylvia that she hadn’t expected that she and Jonathan would just pick up right where they’d left off, but it’s what she’d wanted. It’s what she’d prayed for, and dreamed about, and envisioned in the weeks leading up to her return to New Orleans.

  But all those things she’d wished for would remain a fantasy. In real life, you didn’t leave someone a week before you were set to marry them and expect them to accept you with open arms.

  Maybe it was time she finally embraced the fact that what she did to him was unforgivable. It was time she moved on, the way Jonathan had.

  Chapter Five

  Jonathan ended the call with the Cochran Group’s legal counsel, promising a follow-up email regarding the merger they’d discussed. He pushed back from his desk, walked over to the window facing Chartres, and peered down at the street below, searching for the source of the commotion that started a few minutes ago. He frowned in disgust at the group of tourists egging on a drunken guy as he attempted to climb a wrought iron street lamp. Seconds before he opened the window and became one of those crotchety, get off my lawn guys, he noticed a mounted police officer clopping up the street, heading straight for the crowd.

  Good. Dealing with sloppy drunks was the price one paid for having an office in the city’s most famous neighborhood, but to be that wasted before four in the afternoon? There was no excuse for that.

  Jonathan returned to his desk and pulled up the website he’d been reading prior to his last phone call. He scrolled to the center of the page, scanning the text to see if he could find where he’d left off, then decided to print the entire thing and bring it home to read later.

  He usually spent his Wednesday evenings at The Hard Court, but he’d sent his club manager a text, letting her know he wouldn’t be in tonight. Instead, Jonathan planned to spend the bulk of this evening on the sofa, reading up on this country’s jacked up immigration system. He knew the system had issues, but he honestly had no idea the kind of bullshit people had to go through in order to become naturalized citizens.

  “Good, you’re still here. I thought you’d be out of here by now.”

  He looked up to find Harrison standing just outside his door.

  “Not yet,” Jonathan said, motioning for him to come inside. “I just got off the phone with Stewart Jeffrey. I need to send him an email before I can leave.”

  “Is that the Solar Bright case? No, he’s with the Cochran Group,” Harrison said, answering his own question. He parked in one of the chairs opposite Jonathan’s desk and crossed one leg over his knee. “Did something big go down with the merger? You need help?”

  “I’ve got the Cochran Group covered,” Jonathan said. “But there is something else I may need help with. It’s about Nicolas.”

  “What about him? Wait.” Harrison held up a hand. “Just so you know, I have no issue with you bringing him on once he finishes up his studies. Better to snap him up before some big firm realizes how smart he is and dangles the sun and moon in front of him. He’ll probably have offers coming from everywhere.”

  “I agree one hundred percent that we should make him an offer once he graduates,” Jonathan said. “But this isn’t about work, this is personal.”

  Knowing he could trust Harrison to keep it confidential, he shared the gist of the conversation he’d had with Nicolas regarding his uncle Javier.

  “That’s bul
lshit,” Harrison spat once Jonathan finished.

  “Agreed. But it’s also the law. I’ve been researching it all day and it’s fucking ridiculous the hoops some people have to jump through in order to earn their citizenship. And have you ever taken a look at that citizenship test? I guarantee ninety percent of the people born in this country wouldn’t be citizens if they had to pass it. Hell, I didn’t know half the answers and I have a degree in political science with a minor in history.

  “After hearing what Nicolas’s family has endured, it made me curious about how many others have had to face this. Too many,” Jonathan said. “What’s even more messed up is that so many in this area are the same people who helped to rebuild this city after Katrina. That should count for something, right?”

  Harrison nodded. “Those who decide to make a life in a place they helped put back together shouldn’t have to claw their way through our immigration system.” He shook his head. “But I’ve got to be honest here, Jonathan. I’m not sure what we can do. Neither of us knows enough about immigration law.”

  “I know,” Jonathan sighed. “I just feel as if I need to do something.”

  “You mean we. If you’re going to take on something this important, I’m going to be right there with you. We just need to figure out what that is exactly.”

  That attitude was the reason he would never regret joining forces with Harrison Holmes. His partner always had his back. But Jonathan wasn’t sure if he was ready to verbalize the idea he’d been mulling over these past few days. There were still so many pieces to it he needed to work through in his head.

  Then again, he’d come to count on Harrison’s sound input in the years since they’d become partners. Maybe he could help figure out the right path.

  “What do you think about providing a sort of project manager for navigating the immigration system?” Jonathan asked. “I keep thinking about what goes into renovating a building. There are all these spokes, and it’s the project manager in the center who makes sure the wheel turns smoothly and that nothing falls through the cracks. I’m wondering if there’s a way we can provide that person in the center, someone who can guide families through the process.”