The Allure Of Julian Lefray Part 14

Josephine Open laptop, read emails, order breakfast, pour coffee, avoid eye contact, stay at least two feet away from Julian, and for G.o.d sake's stop remembering what it felt like when he kissed you.

I'd been working at Julian's hotel for fifteen minutes and my resolve was already slipping. I'd felt confident when I'd stood outside his door and knocked twice. My shoulders were pushed back and my head was held high. Then, Julian had opened the hotel room door and sucked the confidence right out of me with no effort at all. He was wearing a fitted navy suit, brown belt, and sleek brown shoes. The top b.u.t.ton of his white shirt was undone and his midnight black hair was still slightly damp, like he'd just stepped out of the shower minutes earlier.

He'd ushered me inside and I'd mumbled a greeting, averting my eyes so that I could keep hold of what little resolve I had left.

For the first fifteen minutes of my being there, neither one of us had said a word.

"More coffee?" he asked breaking the silence with an offer I couldn't refuse.

I nodded and he rounded the couch to pour more medium roast into my mug as I held it up for him. His shoes. .h.i.t the hardwood floor and with every step, I felt my nerves ratchet up another notch.

I stared at my computer screen, all the while trying to concentrate on where he was in proximity to me. He was busying himself with something behind me and I tried to think of what our normal working life was like. Normally, I'd have turned around and asked him about his weekend, how his Sunday had gone, but there was no way I'd open up that line of discussion.

"You're quiet this morning," he said as he stepped back around the couch and took a seat across from me.

My stomach fluttered.

"Am I?" I asked, not meeting his eye.

I could see him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"I'm just thinking about work things," I muttered.

He nodded, studying me in a way that made chills creep down my spine.

"So are we going to talk about-"

"Julian." I held up my hand to cut him off before he could utter another word. "Let's just concentrate on work and we can talk about this another time, maybe when I'm not on the clock."

His smirk slipped away. Clearly, he hadn't expected that response.

"So even though you and I almost-"

I clenched my jaw and gripped the edges of my laptop. "Julian, please. It's complicated."

His calm eyes, the eyes that had greeted me at the door fifteen minutes earlier were gone, replaced with a brewing storm behind dark brows.

I thought he'd push the subject, draw up memories that I was intent on pushing aside for the next eight hours, but he didn't. He opened his laptop in silence and we got to work. For hours, we fired off emails and read through contracts for the s.p.a.ce we wanted to rent. I began calling architecture firms around town, explaining our project and scheduling initial design meetings.

We didn't utter a word to each other unless it was directly work related. His tone was distant and cold. I could hardly meet his eye, even if he was only firing off the names of firms he wanted me to get in contact with. I hated every minute of it, but it was the way it had to be.

After lunch, I settled back into my seat and pulled up the email I'd started to draft before running down for a sandwich.

"The other night, I went to this ice cream shop down the street from my hotel," Julian began, pulling my attention from my computer.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Do you ever really crave ice cream?" he asked, a hint of a smile covering his lips.

What the h.e.l.l is he talking about?

"Uh, sure, I guess."

"Well, I really wanted some the other night, so I went down to this shop and stood in line. It took forever to get to the front to order. It almost felt like I'd been waiting there for weeks."

I arched a brow. "Sounds like you should have just picked up some ice cream from 7-Eleven."

He smiled. "I couldn't. It had to be this ice cream."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion but held my tongue.

"So anyway," he continued, "I got to the front of the line and I asked to sample the flavor I'd been eyeing-y'know, just to get a little taste."

"Mmm," I hummed. "You're going into way too much detail about ice cream."

He ignored me.

"And after I'd had that tiny sample, I knew I wanted more. It tasted amazing, just like I'd known it would. So I asked for two perfectly round scoops in a waffle cone."

"Okay. That's the weirdest way I've ever heard someone describe-"

"But you know what happened right after I paid and walked out of the shop?"

"You realized you were being really weird about ice cream?" I joked.

He laughed. "No. I leaned in to take my first bite, tripped, and the entire ice cream cone fell to the ground. Can you believe that? Right before I really got to enjoy it."

I stared at him, mouth in a thin line, annoyance building within me.

"I know what you're doing," I said.

"Has that ever happened to you before?" His gaze held mine as he teased me. "Have you ever been so close to getting something you've been craving, only to have it ripped right out from under you before you can really savor it?"

I stood up and carried my laptop toward the bathroom. "I asked you not to talk about it, Julian. Not during work. I have to take this job seriously. Do you?"

"Jo-"

"This job means everything to me. Can't you see that?"

Before he could answer, I continued.

"I can't blame you for being confused about my priorities. We've both crossed the line from the very beginning. I a.s.sumed I could have my cake and eat it too, but now that the choices are right in front of me, I know I have to choose my job over you. I can't afford to be fired."

The image of moving home and working at the town Dairy Queen was enough of a reality check to set me straight. No more fooling around.

He stood and held up his hands. "You're right. I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. I've got to run some errands anyway, so don't stuff yourself in the bathroom. You can stay right where you are. I promise that when I get back I'll be on my best behavior."

He stepped closer and bent to find my eyes.

"Okay?" he asked.

I hated that I could smell his body wash. I hated that I had to tell him lies, when inside, deep down, I wanted to continue right where we'd left off on the boat.

Being an adult sucks.

I stayed right where I was as he walked out of the room, letting the door fall closed behind him with a heavy thud. When he was gone and I had the entire hotel room to myself, I finally felt like I could breathe again. I pulled up my work calendar and started hammering away at each item. From then on, I was going to impress Julian with my work ethic, not my bra size.

Julian was still out running errands when his hotel phone rang late in the afternoon. I'd attached his phone number to a few of the emails I'd sent out to architecture firms, so I didn't hesitate to answer the phone. If they were already getting back to us, it was a good sign that they were in need of work.

"h.e.l.lo, this is Josephine Keller," I answered, poised with a pen, ready to take notes.

"Josephine?" a shrewd voice asked on the other end of the line. "Who are you? My son's girlfriend?"

I nearly dropped the phone. The feminine voice was crystal clear and confident, with an air of aristocracy laced through every syllable.

Holy s.h.i.t. It's Julian's mother...

"Oh, no. No," I clarified. "I'm his personal a.s.sistant."

She cleared her throat, clearly annoyed.

"And yet you're in his hotel room, answering his phone?" Her tone said it all.

I fidgeted in my seat as if she were there, staring me down. "Oh, yes, it's just that we... he and I have been working from his hotel room while we try to find an office s.p.a.ce."

Nothing about the situation was suspicious and yet I sounded guilty even to my own ears.

"Of course. How very...orthodox."

I wiped my sweaty palm on my pants before switching the phone to my other ear. Where the f.u.c.k was Julian?

"Would you like me to connect you with your son? He actually just stepped out but I could have him call you back-"

She didn't let me finish.

"Actually, don't bother. This will work out better. I have a few things to discuss with him and it's better if he can't argue with my requests."

I rubbed the back of my neck as I worked out her words. "So you'd like me to take a message?"

She took a deep breath as if trying to calm herself. "I'm confused. Are you not his a.s.sistant? Is this not in your job description? Perhaps he has you employed for different reasons?"

Had she just implied that that I was Julian's hired s.e.x girl? Jesus. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks.

"Of course I can take a message, ma'am," I replied with a honey-dipped tone. "Let me just grab my pen." I'd be d.a.m.ned before I let her know she was winning.

I scrambled to find a clean page in my notebook, but she didn't wait. She rattled off details as I ripped pages away.

"I have a fundraiser at the Four Seasons hotel at 8:00 PM Wednesday night. Since my son is back in New York City, I've arranged a date for him. Her name is Priscilla Kinkaid and I'm dear friends with her mother. I'd appreciate it if he would have his driver pick her up so that they may arrive together. It would be very rude to have her drive separately."

I stopped writing.

"Priscilla Kinkaid?" I asked.

Everyone with a computer and a half-decent internet connection knew who Priscilla Kinkaid was. She was this decade's Paris Hilton, except without the s.e.x tape and the tiny dog. She was all over the fashion world, and as a fashion blogger, I knew just how stylish and unG.o.dly beautiful she was.

Julian's mother sighed. "Yes. Please pay attention. I haven't got all day."

I stared down at my notepad.

"Go ahead," I muttered with a cold tone.

"I'm going to email you the details and Priscilla's address. I need you to convey to Julian that this event is of the utmost importance to me, especially with how ill his sister is right now."

Julian had revealed to me weeks ago that Lorena wasn't actually staying in the hospital, that she was seeking treatment for something in rehab. Still, the way Mrs. Lefray spoke about her only daughter sent a chill down my spine.

"Okay," I replied before rattling off my email address for her. "You can send all the details to that address."

She jotted down my email address and I wondered if Julian would actually go through with something like this. Did he still let his mother boss him around like he was a child?

"Could you also draft an email from Julian explaining how excited he is to escort Priscilla to the fundraiser? It doesn't have to be long, but I'd like him to send her something."

My mouth dropped.

"I can't hack into his email account," I argued.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied, as if offended that I would even a.s.sume that's what she wanted. "You just need to draft it and then he will send it off himself."

Before I could offer a response, she continued. "Anyway, I've got to run, but I need you to get all of this done today."

I'm sorry, I didn't realize I worked for all three Lefrays...

The line went dead and I pulled the phone away from my face to stare down at it. Lying beside the receiver, on the front of my notepad, was a chicken-scratch list of things she'd just ordered me to do. Every item written there made my stomach churn in disgust. Not only did I have to ignore my feelings for Julian, I now had to actively set up his date with another woman? I wanted to shred the note into little pieces and flush it down the toilet. I wanted to delete the email his mother was undoubtedly drafting at that very moment, listing every detail about his hot date. I wanted to feign amnesia about the whole topic.

I hadn't yet decided what I would do about it by the time the hotel door opened and Julian stepped in. I was sitting on the couch with the list beside me and his mother's email open on my laptop. I didn't look up when he rounded the back of the couch, but I listened to the sound of his shoes. .h.i.tting the hardwood floor and I picked up the scent of his spiced aftershave as soon as he stepped close.

"Italian cream cake," he said, holding out a clear plastic takeout box in front of my line of sight. "As a peace offering."

For two seconds, I couldn't reply, too choked up with the weight of indecision. Why did his mother have to call when he was out? Why did I have to know just how gorgeous Priscilla was? Could she not have picked someone a little less easy on the eyes?

"Jo? Are you still mad at me?"

I blinked up at him, catching sight of his earnest eyes. I smiled and shook my head, too caught up in his sweet gesture to ignore him.

I reached out for the cake and laughed. In the corner of the box, there was a little dollop of icing.

"You got me extra icing?"