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

or her oils were too thick, or her brush strokes were too uneven. It was always something.

But today the light was perfect, and it was like Julianne had been given brand-new eyes to appreciate it with. She was mixing blue that was almost too vibrant to be real but was the exact color of the afternoon ocean.

She cranked up her iPod and laughed at the absolute perfection of it all. Keeping her eyes on her canvas she stood up and stretched her arms out to soak in the glorious day.

Then a deafening noise erupted, making her wheel around, terrified that it might have been a car crash.

But the real cause of the ruckus was even worse.

Julianne stared down the beach toward the Moores’

house. The confrontational-looking fencing erected around their sprawling property had multiplied and was now nearly blocking off all access to the beach. Behind them, a parade of huge shiny bulldozers and backhoes were lined up like enormous, angry hornets. One by one they rolled out and started leveling the entire area.

Julianne felt like she was being punched in the stomach.

Leaving her things on the ground, she crept closer to the action, trying to put her newly acquired spy skills to good use. She turned off her iPod, leaving the earphones in, so that anyone who saw her would think she was just enjoying an afternoon on the beach—or what was left of the beach—with a sound track. Ducking down near the fencing behind one of the many towering dunes created by the bulldozers, Julianne was basically invisible to anyone in the area. She shivered as she curled up into herself, waiting to see what would happen next. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Hey, guys! Coffee break?” A voice bellowed from the top of the dune. Julianne heard the echo of four keys turning off four ignitions, and then the clomping of eight individual work boots scampering down the beach toward whichever grunt had been sent on a Dunkin’

Donuts run. (Okay, maybe she was projecting a little bit on the last part …)

“So, what’s the game plan for the afternoon, Tom?”

she heard a deep voice call out across the dune.

“More demolition. We need to clear this entire area.

No brush left. It needs to be buildable ground,” Deep Voice Number Two, presumably Tom, called back.

“How much ground are we talking here?” asked a third guy.

“The whole thing. We’re taking out this entire pen.”

Tom didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“What are they building?” Deep Voice Number One asked. “Pretty big demo order for a house.”

“A gym, I think,” Tom said offhandedly.

Julianne scanned the dunes around her and let her eyes rest on the ocean. It shimmered another new shade of turquoise in the afternoon light. She shuddered. How could anyone think that a gym, or a sauna, or any other extravagant convenience was more important than this beach? There were gyms all over. Already built and good enough for everyone else she knew.

“Like an LA/Sports Club?” joked another guy.

“Nah, not a franchise or anything.” Tom laughed.

“They’re building a gym addition onto the house. A waterfront gym.”

Julianne felt like she was going to burst out of her skin. A gym? The Moores were destroying this beautiful beach, taking land away from people who had loved it their entire lives, so that they could have a better view from their elliptical machine? Why couldn’t they just put a couple of machines in their basement like normal people? Or work out on the actual beach? Maybe they should hire a live-in spin instructor too! Just when she thought there couldn’t be a more stupid, ridiculous, petty reason for the Moores to keep building onto their monster mansion, they completely surprised her by raising the bar yet again. What could three people need so much space for? Two people, when Remi went back to school! Julianne was appalled.

She felt a burst of cold air as a new shadow fell over her. She shivered and crossed her hands over her bare arms. Then the shadow cleared its throat. Julianne’s eyes shot up in alarm. Remi was towering over her, his no-longer-so-skinny arms crossed in front of his chest, looking much more imposing than the twelve-foot dune.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“Nothing. You know. Just listening to my iPod,”

Julianne said casually, trying to shrug while slowly standing up.

“I hear the sound quality’s a lot better if you actually turn it on.” He raised one eyebrow. Crap.

“Thanks for the hint. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone.” Julianne tried to capture her sassiest comeback voice.

“Left alone to do what? Continue eavesdropping on my father’s construction crew?” There was self-righteousness rising in Remi’s voice, mingling with teasing amusement. Julianne felt her pulse rising along with it.

“I think you mean demolition crew,” Julianne corrected, matching him note for sarcastic note. “I don’t see any construction going on here—just a whole lot of bulldozing. And I don’t need to explain myself to you.

Some parts of this beach are still public. At least for now.”

“Julianne, what the hell is your problem?” Remi burst out, clearly frustrated. Julianne felt a pang, seeing Remi’s usually handsome face contorted and shouting.

“This is my dad’s dream house, and they’re making great progress.”

“Progress? This isn’t progress! It’s … it’s … greedy and selfish. Your family is grabbing up every last morsel of space, every last grain of sand, so that you can have all of it to yourselves. It’s not about making something—it’s about proving that you’re the biggest kid in the sandbox.”

After weeks of lying low and “monitoring progress,” it felt so good to just yell and let her anger pour out.

“I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally!” Remi bellowed back at her. “My dad is an amazing architect and this is his home. It’s all he’s ever wanted—

it’s his legacy. Why does that bother you so much?”

“You are defending this? What’s with the infinite faith in your dad? How can you be so sure that he doesn’t have it