The Allure Of Julian Lefray Part 9

"Professional?" Dean asked, the dark look in his eyes challenging me to be honest.

I nodded.

"Well since you two are so friendly, you should come out with us on the boat this weekend."

My brows rose in surprise. "You have a boat?"

He nodded and rolled his gla.s.s between his hands. "It'll be the first warm weekend of the year and a few of my friends and I are going to celebrate out on the water."

He must have sensed my excitement.

"I'm sure Julian could swing by and pick you up on his way to the marina."

Why did it feel like Dean was trying to play matchmaker?

Would Julian want me to tag along on the boat or would I cramp his style? I was sure Dean would have girls on the boat, girls that Julian would want to talk to.

"Earth to Josephine? How about it?" he asked, offering me a persuasive smile.

Well, when you put it that way...

"I'm in," I smiled.

Chapter Fourteen.

Julian I fell back against the gra.s.s and splayed my legs out in front of me, shaking them out like noodles. My legs protested the stretch, but I pushed through the initial shock, knowing they'd thank me later. Dean and I had just finished up a twenty-five mile loop on our bikes, ending at a small park in Brooklyn. The sun was shining overhead and I could hear kids playing on the jungle gym a few yards away. I tossed my bike helmet beside me and leaned back against my palms so I could start to catch my breath.

"I had quite an interesting conversation with Josephine last night," Dean said, tossing a water bottle at me. I thought fast to catch it before it collided with my chest and then pulled the cap off with one twist. It was ice cold and I guzzled nearly half of it down with one gulp.

After I swallowed, I finally registered what Dean had just told me.

"Conversation with who?" I asked, squinting to make him out in the glare of the sun.

"Josephine," he answered simply.

"When was that?" I asked, annoyed by my inability to sound casual. Sure, my lungs were still burning from the bike ride, but the thought of Dean and Josephine together burned far worse.

Dean glared over at me and I knew he'd caught my strained voice too.

"Last night. She was at my bar," he said with a shrug. The message was clear: don't kill the messenger, a.s.shole.

"Provisions?"

He shook his head as he rotated his bike tire, checking for any damage from the ride.

"No. Merch."

Josephine was supposed to have been on a date the night before; had Dean seen the guy she was with?

"What-"

"And before you ask," he interrupted. "She was alone."

I frowned. "What do you mean? She was supposed to be on a date."

Dean pulled his foot up behind his leg, stretching out his quad.

"I don't know, man. When I saw her, she was sitting at the bar alone. I kept her company for a few minutes and then I had to get back to work."

Interesting.

"And I invited her out on the boat with us this weekend."

My gaze shot back up to him. The a.s.shole. "I was supposed to check out some properties with my agent on Sat.u.r.day."

He smiled like the cat that caught the canary. "Guess you'd better reschedule. That is, unless you don't mind if I take Josephine out without you?"

I knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing. Dean wasn't interested in Jo. He was interested in calling my f.u.c.king bluff.

"I'll see what I can do," I said, already reaching for my phone so that I could text my agent. "But I gotta run."

"Heading to visit your sister?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, she's a few weeks into her program and she's bored as h.e.l.l. I try to stop by as much as I can."

He dropped his leg and stretched out his other quad.

"The tabloids haven't been hounding her, have they?"

"Thankfully, no."

He shook his head. "I'm sure your mom has that all under control."

Dean and I had been friends for years, so he knew how our family operated.

I arched a brow. "Lucy Lefray? Of course she does, and there's already a contingency plan in place in case the media does find out."

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"We're supposed to say she's seeking treatment for exhaustion." The vague lie reeked of Lucy Lefray. "But Lorena wouldn't care if anyone found out she was seeking treatment for a drug problem. If anything, she'd be more embarra.s.sed to admit exhaustion than drug use. Unfortunately, my mom doesn't agree."

"Guess that's the price you pay when you come from blue blood."

The next day, Josephine and I were working in my hotel room, quietly typing away on our separate a.s.signments. She was on the couch across from me and I found myself continuously trying to surrept.i.tiously study her.

Our morning had followed the same routine it had for the last three weeks: I ordered us breakfast, she fixed our coffee while I spread b.u.t.ter on our toast, then as soon as we were ready to work, she slipped off her high heels and tucked her feet up under her on the couch. It wasn't the best working situation, but she'd been a trooper about it.

"I promise I'll find us an actual office soon," I said as she readjusted on her seat for the hundredth time that morning. She glanced up from her laptop and smiled.

"This is fine, I swear." For a second it looked like she wanted to elaborate and then I caught a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Other than the day I found you in your skivvies, it actually hasn't been that weird."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm still expecting a lawsuit for that."

Since that first morning, I'd made it a point to always have my slacks, shirt, and tie on well before she arrived. One time could be written off as a mistake. Twice and she'd write me off as a weird-a.s.s creeper.

"Don't worry, I didn't report you to HR or anything," she joked.

I smiled. "Should we hire an HR person next?"

She scrunched her nose in distaste and shook her head. "How about we hire a personal chef instead?"

"I like your moxie. You're hired. Now go make us some manicotti."

She playfully dusted her nails on her blouse. "You couldn't afford me."

I laughed and she bent forward to grab her coffee cup off the table. Another few inches of blouse spilled over the top of her computer screen. It was a cream silk top that brought out her recent tan. For just a moment, I let my gaze follow the elegant curve of her neck, down over her collarbone, and then lower. The top b.u.t.ton of her blouse was open and the few inches of exposed skin there made it perfectly clear why Josephine was quickly becoming my favorite fantasy.

I'd just pulled my gaze away when her phone vibrated on the table beside mine. I glanced down and read the caller's name as it flashed across the screen before she s.n.a.t.c.hed it up: Forest Financial.

"Feel free to take it," I offered.

She shook her head and dropped her phone a few feet away from her on the couch, well out of her reach.

"It's okay. I'm right in the middle of setting up a Facebook page for the brand and I want to get it finished before lunch."

"I thought Lorena already had one," I protested.

Josephine turned her computer so I could see the screen. "She did, it's just that she never finished setting it up and she hardly ever posted. No one even knew that it existed. I want to revamp it and then post some promotional content so we can start to build her presence there. I redid the top banner and added professional photos of her last line. We should be posting everyday so that everyone can stay up to date with the brand."

I mentally high-fived my past self for hiring Jo. Sure, she was funny and interesting and gorgeous, but also in just three weeks she'd managed to completely overhaul Lorena's online presence. I knew the business side of things, but the creative end of the company was beyond my scope. We needed to hire a full marketing team, but for now Jo would work just fine. Besides, I kind of liked it being just the two of us.

"What do you think?" she asked, hope br.i.m.m.i.n.g in her eyes.

"It looks great," I said, truly meaning it. The old version versus the new version was like night and day. The new version actually looked like a real brand. "Do you do the graphics for your blog as well?"

She smiled wide and then glanced down to her computer. "Yeah. I took cla.s.ses for it in college. I'm not a graphic designer or anything, but I know enough to get by."

I nodded. "I can tell. Your blog looks really professional."

She flicked her gaze up to me and then offered up a crooked smile. It was the sort of smile I gave my mom when I was about to beg for something.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I have a favor to ask of you."

I tilted my head, interested in what she was about to ask for. The last time I'd mentioned a "favor" around her, it hadn't gone so well. This time I was going to wait for her to speak first.

"Would you mind helping me take a few photos for my blog? I want to do a few photos in Central Park."

Oh.

That's it?

I opened my mouth to agree, but she spoke up quicker.

"I promise if you help me then I'll get you another one of those ice cream cones from the stand near the subway station."

Her pale green eyes looked so earnest. I'd have been a fool to say no.

"Of course."

She smiled.

"Really? That'd be so helpful-"

She'd barely uttered the words before her phone started vibrating on the couch beside her. I wondered if it was Forest Financial again, but I was too far away to read the caller ID. She cursed under her breath, tossed her laptop aside, and stood to retrieve it.

"I guess I should take this," she said, shaking her head as she headed into my room.

The door closed behind her and I went through a mental checklist of the embarra.s.sing things she could find in there. I thought I'd picked up my dirty clothes that morning, but I couldn't recall. Not to mention, there was about a fifty-fifty chance that I had a box of unused condoms sitting out on my nightstand. Yeah, that's right. Unused. f.u.c.k. I couldn't recall the last time I'd had a dry spell last this long.

Back in Boston, this never would have happened. My "Little Black Book"-aka my iPhone-was jam packed with women that would have been enough for one night. Now? Now I had Josephine hijacking my every thought so that there wasn't room for any other woman.

I heard Josephine's voice drift through the bedroom walls and I did my best to ignore it. She deserved some semblance of privacy.

"Hi Ms. Buchanan-Yes, I did receive your message."

La la la, not listening.

"No. No. I'm getting paid in two days and I will put all of that money toward this month's payment. That's the best I can do right now-"

I paused my typing, too curious to pretend I wasn't listening at that point. Was Josephine in some kind of money trouble? I tried to hear the remainder of her conversation, to decipher if she was talking to her landlord or someone else, but she must have moved away from the door.

It didn't matter. I'd heard enough.

When she walked out a few minutes later, her paycheck was sitting inside an envelope next to her purse. She'd find it when she packed up for the day and I'd offer some excuse about needing to pay her early.

She closed the door and puffed out a breath of air as if trying to calm herself down. Even still, she looked frazzled. She brushed her hair back away from her face and then tucked her phone into her back pocket with a touch too much force.

"Everything okay?" I asked, doing my best to sound unbiased by what I'd just heard. A part of me wanted to ask her point blank if she was having money problems. I wanted to help her if she needed it, but I didn't want to offend her either.