You Need To Not Settle
alyssa
I trailed behind the realtor, my heels clicking softly against the polished hardwood as she led me through the condo.
The place was beautiful. Too beautiful, to be honest. Open floor plan, tall windows spilling afternoon light across the room, granite counters in the kitchen that gleamed like they’d been waiting on a magazine shoot.
It was more space than Micah and I needed.
More space than I thought I deserved to be considering, really.
“Three bedrooms, two and a half baths,” said Cheryl, the realtor Julian had referred me to. “Perfect for you as a working mother. Lots of professionals live in this building.”
I nodded politely, already forming the words to talk myself out of it. “It’s beautiful, but it is too much for me. It’s just my son and I. We really only need two bedrooms.”
That’s when I heard a deep voice behind me. “You’ll want the third bedroom.”
I spun around, startled, and nearly bumped into Julian Wade himself, standing there in a perfectly tailored suit, looking like the building had been expecting him.
“What are you doing here?” My voice came out ruder than I meant. “I mean… I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I have the penthouse. Ten floors up.” One corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Cheryl mentioned she’d be showing you this unit today. Figured I'd check in and see how your hunt's going.”
Of course. Just casually showing up. Who does that? “You just happened to be around? Don’t you have work?” Once again, my internal thoughts found their way out before checking with me first.
“It's close to WadeHouse. I have time.” He glanced around the space with an appraising eye. “This is a good building. Secure. Doorman. Management that maintains things.”
I crossed my arms. “I thought you lived in Simone and Raschad’s neighborhood?”
“I do. That's home.” He paused. “The penthouse is... convenience.”
That pause. I caught it. “Convenience,” I repeated, letting my smirk show. “Or you mean recreation?”
For a split second, something flickered across his face, surprise at my bluntness, or maybe amusement. Then his expression smoothed back to neutral. He didn't respond, just held my stare with that almost-smile.
Another crack in the CEO armor. I thought. Getting him to break that controlled mask was starting to become my favorite new hobby.
“So… we'd be neighbors,” I said. “Sort of.”
“Sort of,” he agreed.
I crossed my arms again, giving him a look. “I don’t need a three-bedroom. Two is plenty for Micah and me.”
“You’re a lawyer,” he said simply, like the math was obvious. “You’ll want a home office. Somewhere separate from where you lay your head. Somewhere you can close the door.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he’d already turned to Cheryl. “Hasn’t this one been sitting empty for months?”
I squinted at him. Was he seriously negotiating on my behalf?
Cheryl blinked, caught between his steady gaze and her notes. “Uh… yes. That’s right. The owner’s flexible. Though he wants three months upfront, first, last, and security deposit.”
My stomach dropped a little. Three months upfront was a chunk of change. “I like it,” I admitted reluctantly, running my hand along the smooth countertop. “It's just more than I—“
Julian's eyes met mine. “Review the paperwork first. Think about it.”
“I'll send you everything this afternoon,” Cheryl chirped, already packing her folder.
I nodded, distracted, but as we were leaving, I caught Julian leaning toward her, his voice low. “Call me this afternoon.”
Call him? Why? That gave me pause, but I pushed it aside. I wasn’t going to overthink it.
Outside, the late sun was sinking, painting the sky a soft orange. Julian glanced at me, then at his watch. “You eaten?”
I shook my head, a little too fast. “Not yet.”
“Come on,” he said, already moving toward the street. “There’s a good sandwich shop around the corner.”
“Okay.”
The sandwich shop smelled like fresh bread and garlic, the kind of place you stop at when you don’t feel like cooking but want food that feels healthy enough.
I ordered turkey on wheat with extra pickles.
He went with roast beef, ordering in that clipped, decisive tone that made the cashier nod quick like she didn’t want to get it wrong. He led me to a booth near the window.
I unwrapped my sandwich and glanced at him across the table. “Thank you for connecting me with that realtor. She’s good. I actually feel like I might land somewhere soon. Although, I think you scared the poor woman on the price.”
His mouth curved the tiniest bit. “Everything’s negotiable. She needed reminding. You were about to talk yourself out of a good spot.”
“Because it's too much.” I leaned back. “I don't need—”
“Yes, you do. Why pretend you don't?”
This man. I fought not to roll my eyes. “I think I know what I need better than you do, Julian.”
“Locks. Lighting. Bathtub. You wouldn't want those things with three bedrooms?”
“I would want them. That doesn't mean I need them.”
“If you want them, then you need them.”
“A want is not a need.”
“It is sometimes. When you need to not settle,” he stared at me.
I stared back at him, ready to argue, but there was no point. I had been a lawyer for ten years. I knew a losing argument when I saw one. I picked up my sandwich and took a bite.
He wiped his hands, eyes still steady on me. “What about work? What kind of law are you looking to practice here?”
I put my sandwich down. “Back in Jersey I did a lot of nonprofit work, civil rights mostly, ACLU-type stuff, pro bono defense, legal aid. That’s where my heart is. I’m hoping to find something similar here.”
“Lennox Falls area has a few options.” Then he leaned back, rattling off surrounding towns like he’d already mapped possible commutes for me.
“Towns like Ashford Heights are a reasonable commute if you need to widen your search. Bigger firms are in Pine Bluffs and Holloway, if you want something even more corporate.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you moonlight as a career counselor too?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Just efficient with information.”
“You always talk like that? Bullet points and solutions?”
“That’s how I think.”
I laughed. “Figures. CEO mode.”
He just shrugged.
I sipped my drink, studying him. “So what about you? What do you do for fun?”
His brow furrowed like I’d asked him in another language. “I work. I enjoy that.”
“That’s not an answer, Julian. Nobody just works.”
“I do.”
I shook my head. “Not buying it.”
He hesitated, then said, “I coach youth football. But of course you already know that.” He gave me a stern look.
I blushed and cleared my throat. “I thought we were past that.” I smiled sheepishly.
“We are.”
“Okay, and that’s it?”
“I run. Ten miles every morning. Completed a few marathons.” He said it like he was giving a weather report.
I let out a low whistle. “Okay, Mr. Marathon. Impressive. I run too.”
That earned me a doubtful look, and I made an offended face back at him. “What? You think I can’t run?”
“Didn’t say that.” His voice dropped. “But jogging around the block isn’t the same as training.”
“I know the difference, Julian,” I shot back. “I took up running after my husband...” The rest stayed stuck in my throat. “It helps me clear my mind and think. The quiet. The space. I enjoy it. I’ve done two half marathons myself, if you must know.”
His expression shifted and he nodded slowly.
“Anyway.” I took another bite of my sandwich. “Hit me up. Maybe we can run together sometime. See if I can keep pace with The Julian Wade.”
For a moment, he looked almost startled. Then he recovered and nodded. “If you want.”
I grinned, satisfied I’d cracked his composure just a little. “Don’t worry, I won’t slow you down.”
He didn’t answer, just picked up his sandwich, but I caught another faint curve at the corner of his mouth, there and gone in a second.
Four in the span of an hour, that’s gotta be a record. I thought, pleased with myself.
Wait. Why was I counting this man's smiles?
I caught myself cataloguing him. His build. His skin. His jawline. The forearms fighting to break free when took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves back. The way his voice dropped even deeper when he said training like it was a complete sentence. Julian was a beautiful man. I was not blind.
It also didn't matter, for three airtight reasons. One: he was practically family. Raschad was married his sister, which made Julian something like a brother-in-law twice removed, and family was the one thing in my life that still worked. Two: I wasn't in the market. I had a son to settle, a job to find, and a life to rebuild. Men were not on that list. And three, the reason that made the first two easy: a man like Julian had his pick, and the whole town knew it. I’ hadn’t been here long and that fact was abundantly clear.
Whatever Julian’s type was, a widow with a little boy and a tragedy attached to her name wasn't it.
Which was exactly why I could breathe around him. He didn't require a performance. Around Julian Wade, of all people, I was finding that I got to just be myself. Whoever she was becoming these days.
That part was this town, honestly. I'd felt it in the summer when we visited. Some old version of me lifting her head. In Jersey, I was The Corporate Cassanova’s widow.
That was a full-time job with mandatory overtime, and it was never going to end there.
In Lennox Falls, I was just Raschad's sister.
Micah's mom. The new woman in town. And every day I felt a little more like the woman I'd been before I learned to be small.
She had opinions. She teased CEOs over turkey sandwiches. She took up space.
I'd missed her.
julian
Three days had passed before Alyssa stormed into my office. I assumed she'd accept my help gracefully, or at least privately. Should've known better. I was starting to learn that Alyssa didn't do anything quietly.