For the Love of Julian

Can you love a man and hate him at the same time? If Juliana is to save her five year old son Julian, there is really no choice. A woman who has been wronged and betrayed, she finds that now, at last, there is a chance to get even. But should she? Her decision could save her son's life, but will it also revive the love she lost so long ago?

 

Published: 07/2010
Length: Mid Novel
Word Count: 68,980
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Rating: Sensual
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)

MMD30614

 

FOR THE LOVE OF JULIAN
By
Zelma Orr

 

© Copyright by Zelma Orr, July 2010
© Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, July 2010
ISBN 978-1-60394-444-1
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636

 

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

 

Outside her third story office window, spring struggled to survive the after-effects of a howling wind and rainstorm. The cacophony echoed the turmoil inside Juliana. Life isn’t fair. She wondered who first voiced that bit of truth, and without thinking of self-pity, she sometimes believed it was directed straight at her. It was a selfish thought, but nonetheless, true. She needed something with the storm’s intensity to stir up the deadness inside her. Something out of the ordinary besides constant work, go home, bathe, go to bed, lie awake, get up, dress and go to work.

She grunted in disgust. She was really a piece of work. Not a complete work; just a piece.

The phone rang, and she stared at it. A ringing phone at five past nine on a Friday morning, very near end-of-tax time, was a certain harbinger of problems. Bev, in the front office, picked it up on the second ring. A moment later, she spoke on the intercom.

“Juliana, there’s a Dr. Pierce Akin on line one. Are you in?”

“Who is he?”

“A psychiatrist. Has an office on the first floor with a string of capital letters after his name.”

Oh, yes. Juliana remembered seeing his name on the building directory.

“Is he finally coming to take me away?”

Bev laughed. “Both of us probably.”

It was just past the final deadline for business tax filing, and the two of them had worked sixty hours per week for she couldn’t recall how long. Both were spacey with exhaustion.

“Thanks, Bev.” She picked up the phone. “Good morning, Dr. Pierce.”

There was a moment of silence, and Juliana’s brows peaked. She seldom caused prominent psychiatrists to lose their voices, but there could be a first time.

“Mrs. Palmer.” The voice was testy, gruff, as though he was doing something he really didn’t want to do. She did a lot of that herself, so she could sympathize.

“Yes.” She waited.

“You were referred to me by several people as being an extremely capable accountant.”

“Thank you.”

He cleared his throat. “Would you have a few minutes this morning for me to talk to you?”

She wondered vaguely if someone had mentioned she might be losing her mind and in need of a psychiatrist. She often wondered the same thing and wouldn’t argue the point. “I’m free right now if you’d like to come up to the office.”

“I have an early appointment I can’t get out of. Can you come down here?”

“Do you have any good, fresh coffee?”

She thought he chuckled but wasn’t sure. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Palmer.”

Pierce Akin was something to watch. Like a tawny tiger on the prowl, just waiting for a juicy morsel to snap up and swallow whole. Juliana observed him without any show of expression and waited to see when he would explode.

She didn’t have long to wait.

“What the hell do you mean, my books are a total disaster?” He plowed long fingers through thick blond hair and turned light blue eyes to glare at her. “I pay damned good money for a reputable accountant to keep my books straight.”

“He didn’t.”

He stopped pacing and stood in front of her. “He didn’t what?”

“Keep your books straight.” He had asked her to go over a couple of account records to see if she could spot ‘indiscretions.’ His words. It hadn’t taken her long.

“Is that it? Is that all? He didn’t keep my books straight? Well, what the hell did he do?”

“He skimmed.”

That stopped him. For the moment. “Skimmed? As in ..?”