Sedona Law 6 by Dave Daren (best non fiction books of all time .TXT) 📗

“Okay,” I muttered. “Hey Julianna.”

“Look, back there,” she pointed back to the apartment. “I’m sorry about all that. He’s...he’s a good man. He’s just believes what he believes.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’re okay.”

A shadow passed her face, and I realized that wasn’t the point.

“What about you? Are you okay?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I sure can pick ‘em, can’t I?”

I thought about my fiancee downstairs. When we defended Julianna, I had been so careful to downplay what had been between us. But, now, alone with her for the first time in ten years, I realized that there had been something there.

“Jules,” I whispered in a gentle corrective tone.

“I know, I know,” she said. “You’ve got…”

She gestured toward where Vicki had disappeared in the elevator.

“...And she’s great,” Julainna continued tears welling up in her eyes. “We never gave it a real chance, did we?”

“We were just kids,” I said. “What did we know about anything?”

She laughed. “She makes you happy.”

“She does,” I replied. “Very happy.”

“I can tell,” she said. “It inspires me to find someone that makes me that happy.”

“You deserve that, Jules,” I said. “You’ll find someone.”

“I will,” she stated.

Then she smiled big.

“Goodbye, Henry,” she said.

“Goodbye, Julianna,” I answered and I hit the elevator button.

She smiled and practically floated back to her apartment. Then, the elevator opened, and a young man of middle Eastern descent stepped off the elevator. He popped his earbuds, stuffed them in his pocket and gave me a quick nod.

“‘Sup,” he said.

“Sup,” I replied as I studied him.

He wore torn jeans, a red hoodie and carried a backpack. I smirked as I watched him walk down the hall.

I guess angels buy Jansport now.

Chapter 15

“I know that Jagger’s really into the score,” AJ was on the phone as she walked into the office Monday morning. “But I just think the theme song should be priority.”

There was a pause as she set down her Jitter’s cup and bag on her desk.

“Look, Leila,” she said. “I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you back later.”

She ended the call and groaned.

“Study in Red not going well?” I asked.

The Paradigm group had spent all weekend in meetings at Landon’s RV. Which, in itself, seemed problematic. I was glad I wasn’t invited.

“It’s going as well as any first film can be expected,” she said. “It’s just Leila, who is typically cut and dried and bitchy in a good and productive kind of way, has fallen in love. Now, Jagger can do no wrong. But honestly, the soundtrack is not working, and we don’t know if it really works or not, because we don’t have any cast, or crew, or location, or anything else that her valuable connections are supposed to bring to the table. Instead, all she wants to do is sit around and play twelve different takes on the same score, and analyze them. I don’t know which one works, woman. It depends on how it works with the visual. Oh wait, we don’t have a single element toward a visual!”

She ran her hands through her hair and groaned as she collapsed in her desk. I smirked. AJ was typically fairly level headed, but from time to time, she got frustrated enough to get up on her soapbox and unleash a nice rant, and I found it mildly amusing.

“I’m glad to be here, working with proper adults,” she said. “Who, although hopelessly in love, know how to work together without acting like they want to rip each other’s clothes off.”

“Really?” I mused. “Is that how we act? I guess we’re pretty damn good actors then.”

Vicki blushed and AJ laughed.

“You don’t know what happened back in the treehouse days,” I continued.

“Oh, God,” AJ rolled her eyes. “I forgot about the treehouse days. Yeah, that’s what it feels like. The treehouse days. You walk in that room, so many raging hormones buzzing around, you might get hit in the head with one.”

“We weren’t that bad in the treehouse days,” Vicki insisted.

AJ cleared her throat and made a face.

“Did Landon go back to Chicago?” Vicki asked in a knowing tone.

AJ’s expression said it all.

“That’s the real problem,” Vicki said. “When is he coming back?”

“Thanksgiving,” she said. “He’s going to finish out this semester residential. And next semester will be his last, and he’ll do it online so he can work on the studio with us.”

“What about you?” Vicki asked. “How are you doing with college and the studio?”

She shook her head and took a sip of coffee. “Not too well. I haven’t slept all weekend. Did you meet the wedding planner?”

“No,” I said. “She canceled on us. She wants to schedule some time in this week.”

“Sucks,” AJ said. “I’m starting in on these Paradigm contracts.”

“Great,” I said. “I’ve got most of the small business licensing in process. On those contracts, use our standard royalty template, and put in your adjustments, and I’ll look them over before we finalize them.”

“Great,” AJ said.

She flipped open her laptop, and she and Vicki continued to chatter about the wedding. I tuned them out and sorted through the bank statements Kelsi Mathews had sent me, and now the discovery had come in from Roy.

I tediously made notes on each item and expense. Everything was checking out. I found the ten thousand dollar donation to the Kenyan Wildlife Fund on James’ credit card. I tried to find any corresponding charges anywhere else. But, it looked like there was a page missing from one of the statements.

I had sorted most of the papers Kelsi had sent me. But, there was a pile I still hadn’t gotten to. I pulled the accordian file back out and laid the