Julia ducked her head to read the message. Her mouth thinned the slightest bit and he caught her heavy sigh.
“Will you excuse me?” Julia said to the group. She pushed off the couch, bringing Ben to his feet alongside her. “I’ll be right back.”
Ben waited for her to pass by, then followed her inside the penthouse, concerned about the frown marring her normally smooth brow.
“Everything okay?” he asked, closing the door behind them and silencing the din of conversation.
Though they had gathered to celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas music played softly on hidden speakers. Laura even had a stately Douglas fir, artfully decorated in red and gold ornaments and ribbons with tinkly white lights, holding court near the far bank of windows overlooking Navy Pier and Lake Michigan.
The tree lights glinted off Julia’s gold crucifix necklace. The brightness clashed with the apprehension stamping her features.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said, belying her expression. “I’ve been avoiding a phone call, but apparently it can’t be put off anymore.”
She held Lilí’s cell in a death grip, her fist jiggling the device back and forth at her side. Her gaze shot around the living room, into the formal dining room up three steps off to the right, then across to the sitting area on the left, as if searching for a place to make her call.
“You might want to try the library. You’ll have more privacy there,” he suggested.
“Thanks, I’ll ask a staff member where I can find it.”
“Here, I’ll show you the way.” With a hand on her lower back, Ben led her through the room, down the hall toward the office and library.
Tension vibrated in her stiff shoulders and shadowed her smooth features.
“This is my favorite piece in Sherman and Laura’s collection.” As they neared it, Ben pointed at an oil painting of the Chicago skyline inspired by Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
Julia briefly glanced at the gold-framed painting, her mind clinging to whatever had her anxious.
“Beautiful colors,” she murmured.
“I actually bought another one in the collection after seeing this. Then I reached out to the artist about creating something similar with a Miami backdrop.”
That got her attention.
She paused in front of the artwork, angling her neck to look up at him.
“Your two cities. Your homes.”
“Well, that would be more like a ball field, but . . .”
He let his voice trail off, the ache of having lost the one place where he’d felt most at home, the most sense of family, clogging his throat.
As if she sensed his loss, Julia reached for his hand. She linked her fingers with his, surprising him.
“Sometimes, a move away from the place where we’re the most comfortable allows for the best kind of growth.”
Said the woman determined to leave her family and Island behind for a new life. It was the one thing about her he didn’t understand. Mostly because he’d give anything to be back in the clubhouse with his “baseball family,” ribbing the other guys, grabbing their gloves to run onto the field, knowing they had each other’s back, win or lose.
While she, in a sense, was turning her back on her family’s legacy.
Despite his inability to comprehend how someone with the type of family connection he’d always craved could just walk away from it, Ben had a hard time finding fault with her decision to pursue her own dreams. Not when following her own path had led her to cross his.
The cell phone vibrated in Julia’s other hand signaling an incoming message.
“Ay,” she said on a groan. “I better get this. My mami won’t be deterred.”
He started in surprise.
Her mom? That’s whose call she’d been avoiding?
A slew of questions raced through his mind. But Julia had already started moving down the hall again.
“Here we go.” Ben ushered her into the library.
Her light gasp told him this must be her first time in the space.
Eyes wide with appreciation, she took in the intricately carved bookshelves covering an entire wall, the shelves filled with titles varying from classics to contemporaries and from easy reads to legal tomes. A window seat with views of Michigan Avenue took up the outer wall, while a fireplace dominated the third. A dark brown leather settee with two matching armchairs squared off in front of the inviting fire, providing comfy spots to curl up with a book.
“My cousin Rosa must love it here,” she said.
“The librarian?”
“Mm—hmm. Laura’s daughter-in-law,” Julia answered. “I’m sure she’s gotten lost in this room many times.”
The loving note in her voice when she talked about her cousins, and usually her parents and siblings, too, brought a dull ache to his chest. He’d never had that type of relationship with his parents. He barely remembered his grandparents, who had all passed when he was a kid. As the only child of two parents who’d been only children themselves, he didn’t have any family to rely on or turn to. No aunts, uncles, or cousins.
It wasn’t until he found baseball and when the Ramos’s had welcomed him into their home that he’d finally felt the true sense of familia.
“Well, I’ll leave you to make your call,” he said, backing away. “I’m going to make my way to the bathroom, then I’ll wait for you out front.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, waving him off. “Go back to the party.”
It wasn’t much of a party for him unless she was there, too.
Rather than admit that, he said, “No worries. It’ll be nice to enjoy the soft music and quiet before joining the fray again.”
“I . . . I shouldn’t be long then.”
“Take your time. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
Whether she understood his subtext—that he’d be there when she was ready for more than friendship—he had no idea.
Not wanting to scare her away, he gave a quick wink, then headed out.
Chapter Six
“Ay, Mami, por favor, no seas así,” Julia said, struggling to keep the whine and the frustration from her voice.
If not, her mother
