Forbidden Boy by Abbott, Hailey (moboreader .txt) 📗

“Julianne? Are you okay?” Remi asked gently, peering at her across the desk.

Please let him disappear, please let him magically disappear, Julianne silently begged. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, but when she opened them back up, Remi was still there. And looking at him made her weak in the knees.

“I think you should leave,” she blurted out. “Or I should leave. Someone should leave.”

Remi’s eyes widened in surprise. “Um, okay. I can go back outside, but it would help if you could tell me why I’m going?” He said it like Julianne had presented him with a riddle and, if he solved it, there’d be some sort of prize.

“I believe in what everyone’s doing here, and I want to be a part of it,” she said shakily.

“Okay,” Remi said again slowly. “So far, it sounds like we’re both on the same page.”

“I don’t think we are,” Julianne said, more definitively than she felt. “At least, I know I’m not on the same page as your parents.”

“What?” Remi crinkled his brow, genuinely befud-dled. “What do my parents have to do with this job? You don’t even know my parents.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’re Remi Moore?”

Julianne shot at him, eyes blazing. Her voice was a lethal combination of pure sugar and pure steel.

“Why didn’t I tell you my last name?” Remi tried to keep up with Julianne, but he looked like a lost puppy.

Julianne tried not to get distracted by how adorable he was when he was confused. Just stay angry, she told herself. Now we’re getting somewhere.

“I didn’t realize I hadn’t told you my last name. I guess it never came up. I can try again. Hi, I’m Remi Moore. Nice to meet you.” Remi smiled at Julianne, waiting for her response.

Julianne just shook her head from side to side, mute.

“Okay,” Remi said, trying again. “Remi is short for Remington, but no one other than my folks ever uses the full name. My full, full name is Remington Justin Moore. When I was in third grade the other kids teased me because they thought Remington sounded like the name of a British butler. My cousin Sophie also said that the Remington is a type of razor or something, but I’d never heard of it.” He continued to smile weakly in Julianne’s direction. When Julianne still didn’t answer, his face slumped a little. “Jules,” he said quietly, his big brown eyes begging. “I really don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

Her frustration boiling inside, Julianne finally spat out, “Your parents’ house! That’s what’s wrong!”

Remi looked at her as though she were arguing her case in ancient Mayan or something. “Why do you care about my parents’ house? I really don’t understand.”

“It’s destroying the beach!” Julianne nearly wailed.

“You know, the beach where I grew up? Where I live now? With my family? The beach where we hung out the other day?”

“Julianne, this doesn’t make any sense,” Remi protested. “Listen, I’m really sorry that you don’t like the house, but it’s my parents’ house. Not mine. I didn’t design it. I didn’t build it. And, last time I checked, my parents weren’t in the habit of asking the professional opinion of their eighteen-year-old son before making major life choices. If they were, I wouldn’t have spent my entire life toting around the name Remington. If you’re wondering, I also didn’t get to weigh in on their retirement plans.” He paused, as if waiting for Julianne to crack a smile.

“You just don’t understand,” Julianne replied bitterly.

“Do you even know what that house could do to my family?”

“No!” Remi exclaimed, his face knitted in frustration.

“That’s what I’m trying to say—I have no idea! And I have no idea what I have to do with any of it. Please, please explain it to me!”

Julianne’s mind raced. Was he playing dumb? How could he not see? It was so obvious! Overwhelmed with emotion, she plopped back down in the desk chair. As she opened her mouth to try to explain one last time, the trailer door opened and Mitch popped in.

“Hey, Jules.” He nodded his head in acknowledgment at Remi before continuing. “Just wanted to check in.

How’s it going? Need anything?”

Julianne thought for a split second before getting up and gathering her things. “Yeah, Mitch, actually I do.

Can you please tell Bill I’ll be working on my sketches from home this afternoon? I just don’t feel right about hogging our project manager’s desk any longer than absolutely necessary.”

“Yeah, no problem. Everything okay?” Mitch tilted his head and looked at her curiously.

“Yup. Absolutely fine.” Julianne nodded. Brushing past Remi and Mitch, she dashed out of the trailer as quickly as humanly possible. She couldn’t wait to get home.

Chapter Seven

Julianne was exhausted beyond belief when she got home half an hour later. Her confrontation with Remi, followed by the threat of nasty drivers cutting her bike off, had left her wanting to do nothing more than curl up in her bed with a sketchbook, e-mail Kat, and then call it a night—even though it was only three in the afternoon. She turned her key in the door and had barely placed one foot on the doormat when she heard spastic panting coming from the next room. It sounded like someone had let a hyperactive puppy in from the sun. Before Jules had a chance to think about it, Chloe ran into the hallway—her hand clapped over her mouth—doing measured breathing exercises to avoid hyperventilating. Julianne hadn’t seen her sister this worked up about something since her college acceptance letters showed up a week late. Normally Chloe was calm, upbeat, and cheerful. Standing in front of her right now, though, was a trembling mess who just happened to be wearing Chloe’s straight-legged, dark-wash Joe’s jeans and fitted pink blazer.

“Chloe, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Julianne felt her own heart race as she stared at her shaking sister.

“Is it Dad? Is Dad okay?”

Chloe nodded and pulled Julianne by the wrist over to the beach-facing bay windows in the family room. A