LITMIR.BIZ

      Juliana’s office door burst open Monday just before lunch. She marked her place on the ledger with a finger and glanced up. Her mother’s scowl turned Juliana’s stomach into a hornet’s nest. Clearly, the avoidance punishment had ended. “Hello, Mother.”

      Margaret Alden slapped a newspaper onto Juliana’s desk. “This is outrageous.”

      The Saturday edition lay open to Octavia Jenkins’s column, “Love at Any Price?” Juliana masked a wince. So much for hoping her mother would miss the article. “Octavia is trying to sell papers, and she’s supporting your pet charity. Did you notice she gave the address to which donations can be mailed?”

      “Have you read this? Do you realize the damage she’s done to your engagement?”

      Juliana should have known her mother wouldn’t ask her if she had feelings for Rex or if the column was off base. They’d never had that kind of relationship. No, Juliana had shared her confidences with Irma, Andrea and Holly.

      “I’m not engaged yet, and if you read the entire article, then you’ll see that Octavia has also implied a romantic entanglement between Wally and Donna and Eric and Holly.”

      Juliana had hated reading about her brother and her best friend, and she hoped Octavia had her facts wrong, and yet Juliana was afraid to call Holly and find out. “You know those aren’t true.”

      “I certainly hope Eric isn’t involved with Holly. She has disappointed her parents terribly by living out in that shack like a bohemian.”

      “It’s not a shack. It’s a restored farmhouse and her studio.” She’d said the words so many times before they came out in a singsong chorus.

      “And Wallace knows better. That woman is not one of us.”

      The snobbery offended Juliana. She should have been used to it by now since she’d heard it her entire life. “You mean she wasn’t born wealthy and didn’t have everything handed to her on a silver platter?”

      Her mother’s nose lifted. “You and Eric didn’t have everything handed to you.”

      “Yes, we did, Mother. Everything except respect, which we’ve had to fight an uphill battle to earn.” And our parents’ attention, which seemed connected to perfect behavior, Juliana added silently. The friends she’d had in school who’d dared to disobey had been shipped off to boarding school. Juliana had always followed the rules for fear of being sent away from Irma, Andrea, Holly and home.

      “I’m calling the newspaper to have Ms. Jenkins removed from this series.”

      Juliana sighed and pushed back an errant strand of hair. “Sex sells, Mother. Octavia is doing her job.”

      “Are you saying you’re having sex with that…that man?”

      A rush of heat swept Juliana’s face. “No, but even if I were sleeping with Rex, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”

      “Don’t make it my business by ruining this merger. By this time next year, Alden-Wilson will be the largest privately held bank in the southeast, and I will be the CEO.”

      “Only if Mr. Wilson is willing to step aside, and from what Wally has said, his father’s not all that interested in being second in command. Mother, you may not win this one.” Juliana admired her mother’s ambition. All her life, she’d heard tales of how Margaret Alden had had it all—husband, family and career. Juliana wanted it all, too.

      A smug smile curved her mother’s lips. “Let me worry about that. You worry about making amends with Wallace. And make sure this little hussy isn’t encroaching on your territory. Don’t let me down, Juliana. This merger is far too important for you to jeopardize it with an unsuitable fling. Are we clear?”

      She stalked out of Juliana’s office as abruptly as she’d entered it.

      Juliana sat back in her chair. Don’t let me down. The battle cry of her life. But this time the feeling that the merger might be more important to her mother than Juliana’s life and happiness unsettled her.

      The suffocating straitjacket feeling that had driven her to buying the baddest bachelor on the block closed in on her, squeezing her ribs and compressing her lungs.

      Last chance. Last chance.

      She had to get out of here. She closed the ledger, withdrew her purse from her desk drawer and locked up. On the way out, she paused by her administrative assistant’s desk. “I’m leaving for the day.”

      And then she turned her back on the woman’s gaping mouth, walked out into the afternoon sunshine, took a deep breath of the hot, humid air and tasted freedom.