Summer Brides. Debbie Macomber

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      For Eric, Kurt, Neal and Clay Macomber—the other Macombers.

      Love, Aunt Debbie.

       One

      Julia Conrad wasn’t a patient woman at the best of times. She paced her office, repeatedly circling her high-gloss black-lacquer-and-brass desk. She felt so helpless. She should’ve gone to Citizenship and Immigration Services with Jerry rather than wait for their decision.

      Rubbing her palms together, she retracted the thought. She was a wreck and the Immigration people would have instantly picked up on that and it could hurt their case. She couldn’t help being anxious. The future of the company rested on the outcome of today’s hearing. Ultimately she was the one responsible for the welfare of Conrad Industries, the business her grandfather had started thirty years earlier.

      In an effort to calm herself she stared out the window. The weather seemed to echo her mood. There was a ceiling of black clouds, thunder roared and a flash of lightning briefly brightened the room. The lights flickered.

      Julia’s reflection was mirrored in the window and she frowned, mesmerized by the unexpected sight of herself. Her dark hair was swept back from her face and secured with a gold clasp. She wore a dark suit with a pale gray blouse, which—in her view, anyway—conveyed tasteful refinement. She looked cool, calm and collected, but inside she was a mass of tension and nerves. At thirty she had a pleasant face when she smiled, but she hadn’t been doing much of that lately. Not in the past three years. Her cheekbones were high, her jaw strong, but it was her eyes that told the story. Her eyes revealed vulnerability and pain.

      The image of herself distressed Julia СКАЧАТЬ