Chapter 34
Chapter 34
Poppy
Monday morning blues are not in my vocabulary. My date on Friday with Julian will go down in my top three dates, with slots two and three yet to be filled.
We ended the evening as refined as possible, with a make-out session in front of my door. It was he who stopped, stepped back, dipped his chin, and wished me sweet dreams.
I spent Sunday online shopping. I finally feel like I want to wear clothes that don’t hide my body. While browsing, I chatted with Harper. She’s severely jet-lagged since returning from France, her voice heavy and slow over the phone. I told her all about my date, including the twinkle lights that were Kent’s idea. She told me Julian seemed like the real deal, so I better not mess it up and adopt a cat that would scare him off.
There is one other person with whom I would have loved to share my news in another life. In that life, he would have been guarded and protective over me. I’d watch him cringe as I told him about my date, and even though he hated hearing the news, I would have waited eagerly to seek his approval.
My brother Henry.
Just because I closed the book on my past doesn’t mean I still don’t think about Henry. I desperately want to call him to say hello, to tell him I miss him, and if he wanted to rebuild our relationship, I’d move back in a heartbeat. I stare at my phone screen at the contact with his name. The number is old; it’s not his anymore. He changed it years ago, but I still kept the old number. I still have Peter's, Mom's, and Dad’s numbers.
"I hope you're doing well, and I want you to know I miss you," I whisper as the bus tugs through the stops, the hum blending with the rhythm of my heartbeats. "I love you."
I close my eyes and lean my head against the cool window. I imagine sitting at my kitchen table with my entire family, the room bathed in the soft glow of evening. I’d tell them about my date with Julian, not the intimate details, but the charming ones they would love — the twinkle lights, the meal he cooked, the rooftop table he arranged.
This daydream washes away my pain and pulls a genuine smile onto my lips. We can always change our narrative; we just have to be willing to do so.
***
“Hey, Levi,” I say as I step off the elevator, the hum of its mechanics still echoing in the background.
“Hi,” he mouths through a mouthful of croissants, a playful glint in his eye. Two more croissants sit on his plate, flaky layers shedding crumbs onto the desk. “The boss treated us to coffee again and brought in a whole box of pastries.”
He grins, a few crumbs clinging to his lips.
“Hope you don’t mind; I grabbed a couple extra.”
Levi lowers the croissant, and that's when I notice his split lip. "Levi, what the heck happened to you?” I gasp.
He touches his lip, not wincing but grinning like he's just won the lottery. “Oh, I had a date," he announces.
I raise an eyebrow. "With a boxing glove?"
My strides bring me closer, and I am eager for a clearer view. The nasty scab forming on his skin and the bruise darkening his jawline are hard to miss.
"I'm not sure my story is office-appropriate," he admits.
Story of my life. I wave my hand dismissively. "Just promise me you're okay?"
He chuckles, eyes sparkling with unconfined excitement. "I'm more than okay."
Brushing away crumbs with a casual flick, he leans in, his voice hushed. “I had a date with the hottest girl of my life," Levi boasts, practically puffing out his chest.
I can't help but roll my eyes. “Levi, your idea of a hot date is worrying. Remind me never to ask you for dating advice.”
He grins, unabashed. “She didn’t give me this. I earned it trying to be her knight in shining armor,” he says, trying to sound heroic but only managing to look slightly ridiculous. He's like a big, goofy kid who needs to pack on an extra twenty pounds to be taken seriously.
“I was rescuing her bag.”
I drop my bag onto the desk with a dramatic flair. “This better be good. Spill the beans, Romeo.”
"I was just minding my own business, strolling down the street, right? Then this dude comes sprinting past me with a bag, and behind him, this girl is screaming her head off. Turns out he'd snatched her bag. I stick out my foot, trip the guy, snag the bag," he says, grinning goofily.
"Look at you, real-life superhero," I quip, trying not to laugh. "But that lip...?"
He waves it off. "Oh, that? When the guy got up, he wasn't too thrilled about my heroics. Gave me a good whack before he bolted. But, silver lining — the girl felt so bad, she asked me out for coffee."
"I take it the coffee date went well?"
He nods. "Got her number, too. We're going out again next Saturday."
He's glowing, and I wonder if I share the same glow after my date.
"That's so exciting."
"It is but stressful too. With my budget, McDonald's is like a four-star restaurant. I can't be the guy who suggests McDonald’s for the first date," he says, his smile dropping and replaced with stress.
"Hmm..." I chew my lip. I really want to help him. He looks so excited, but it’s quickly being extinguished with stress."You said you have a Ramen noodle budget."
He nods.
I take a page from Julian's book. "What if you cook her that?"
"Cook her Ramen?" He deadpans as if my suggestion is worse than fast food.
"There are tons of Ramen recipes online; some are pretty amazing. Turn it into a fun cooking date. You can spice up the noodles and make it something special. Cooking together helps break the tension and lighten the mood.”
He leans back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "That's actually a pretty good idea. I've never been great at striking up conversations with girls."
He claps his hands with newfound determination. "You know what? I'm going for it. But first, I need to tackle my apartment's disaster zone. You know, my roommates could give pigs a run for their money in the mess-making department," he says, his face scrunching up in distaste.
I shrug, unable to suppress a smile. "Can't help you there. My roommate was my best friend, so roommate horror stories are foreign to me. But hey, I have faith in your problem-solving skills; from what I’ve heard, you do a great job here."
He offers a grateful smile. "Thanks for the advice. It's nice talking to you. Fair warning, though: I might start seeking your wisdom more often. Just promise it won't impact my grade?"
I can't help but chuckle. "Don't worry, personal advice is off the clock."
Levi reaches for another pastry as he asks, "So, did you have a good weekend?"
I had the best date ever.
"It was good. I did some online shopping and stayed in," I reply, glancing down the hall to my office. "I better get in there."
A pumpkin-spiced latte awaits at my desk, its warm, spicy scent a familiar comfort. Next to it, a box of assorted pastries tempts with its sweet aromas. I pick up my latte, the cup warming my hands, and gently knock on Julian's door.
“Poppy?” He shouts back, his voice muffled.
“It’s me.” I touch the handle, feeling its cool metal under my fingers.
“Come in.”
I open the door and see he's just finishing getting dressed. He had his PT session this morning and then came back to the office to shower and get dressed. He's wearing gray suit pants and a white shirt and is just finishing tying a silver tie. His aftershave fills the office air, a rich blend of sandalwood and citrus that's unmistakably him.
“Good Morning,” he grins, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that belies his casual greeting.
“Julian,” I hiss as I close the office door, my heart racing a beat faster at the implication in his gaze.
“What? I just said good morning.” He winks and straightens his tie, then runs his hand through his dark hair, which falls perfectly back into place. He leans back on his desk with one leg crossed over the other, his gaze roaming over me, taking me in.
“It’s what your eyes said that worries me.” Glancing over my shoulder at the closed door, a pang of guilt washes over me. If only I could be as honest as Levi was, but I can’t...yet.
“Did you have a good Sunday?” He asks, his voice low and curious.
“Yes. Did you?” I reply as I sip my coffee, its rich flavor mingling with the hint of pumpkin spice. “Thank you.” I raise the cup, my hands wrapping around its warmth.
“I had a terrible Sunday.”
I pause mid-sip, “Why?”
“Because I didn't get to see you.” He pushes off from the desk, rounding it to sit; his movements are fluid and purposeful. “Shall we go over my schedule?”
As my neighbor, he’s sexy, but this version of Julian as the CEO, well, he's so attractive that he’s deadly; I'm talking cardiac-inducing problems. No man should be able to wear a suit as good as Julian does. It’s just not fair to the rest of society.
I nod and join him at the chair across from his desk, the leather cool against my skin. “You have a 10:00 with Arthur Murray from accounting to go over fourth quarter orders, an 11:00 with—”
“I’m stuck with accounting for an hour?” He groans, a playful frustration in his tone. “Continue.”
“11:00 till 1:30, you meet with Theo on product development. 2:00, you have a call with Colleen Mulligan from legal,” I grab my phone to recall the name, scrolling through the calendar with a flick of my finger. “It’s with...”
“Horizon Solutions,” he says, his voice confident. “They want to go over our current licensing deal. A waste of time because I’m not cutting their price.”
I look up, “You memorized your schedule.” I deadpan, a hint of admiration in my voice.
He shrugs, “Maybe.”
“Then let’s skip the rundown and discuss the PowerPoint presentation I’m making for you.”
He shakes his head, “Nope.” He pops the 'P,' a playful glint in his eyes. “I want to hear your voice. What do I have at 4:00?”
I press my lips together, hiding my smile.
“Miss. Moore,” he jokes, a lightness in his voice, “What’s on my calendar for 4:00 today?”
I finish telling him his schedule, keeping my eyes down on the calendar on my phone. I feel the intensity of his gaze on me, but I’m too shy to look up. My heart flutters with a mix of nervousness and excitement. My stomach growls, making me cringe.
“You didn’t eat the pastry I got you,” Julian says, feigning offense. “They were out of the pumpkin, so the guy talked me into a croissant assortment.”
“A pause in pumpkin is fine. I don’t want to turn round and orange after all,” I joke. “I’ll eat after. I wanted to go over your schedule first.”
“You put yourself first, Poppy. I’m a big boy; I can handle things.”
I sit with my legs crossed and ask the persistent question that I already know the answer to. "Are you buying us coffee and pastries every day just because of," I lean in and whisper, "us?"
He leans back in his chair and crosses his ankle over his knee. “I don’t know what you’re referring to, Miss. Moore. I’m just trying to be a caring boss. A well-fed staff makes for a happy one.” He winks, his charm effortless.
“Well, Levi is happy. He’s living on Ramen and now your pastries. You are earning major brownie points with him.”
“Are you happy?” He fires back, his gaze intense and probing.
I sip my coffee, but the cup can’t hide my red cheeks. I nod, my heart skipping a beat. “But you can’t keep bringing me pastries every day. It’s all going to go straight to my hips. I'm the type of girl who thinks a long walk is an extreme workout. I don't go to gyms, and as for weights, I consider lifting my milk jug to be all my biceps need."
He licks his lips, hiding his smile. “A woman’s curves are something to praise, not scorn.”
“Julian,” My eyes widen.
“We’re alone.”
I roll my eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to pressure me to have the perfect body?” I blurt out.
He uncrosses his legs, grabs a pad of paper, places a fancy CEO pen on top, and then nudges it across his desk toward me.
“I want a name,” he says firmly.
“Huh?” I'm taken aback.
He taps the notepad insistently. “I want the name of the bastard who made you think like that.”
I stare at the pen, then lie with effort. “It’s not one man; it’s society as a whole.” My gaze remains downcast, fearing my eyes might betray my lie.
The truth is, Andrew was always pressuring me. When we’d go out, he’d order for me, disguising control as chivalry. He’d rave about the salad with no dressing he chose for me, but honestly, it doesn’t take a five-star chef to make a salad. The one time I dared to order a burger, I felt his glare burning into me with every bite; each french fry I ate felt like a rebellion. I returned to salads after that. Andrew was the guy everyone lusted after, and he chose me. I convinced myself I needed to meet his high standards.
Like so many young, naive girls, I was such a fool.
“We can’t keep going off-topic while we’re at work,” I declare, my voice steady with a newfound firmness. “You have a packed day, and we need to focus.” A flicker of surprise crosses my face as I hear my own words – sounding all adult-ish and assertive. It's a stark contrast to the usual timidity that used to silence my voice, especially around guys I liked.
For once, my opinions and concerns find their way out, unbidden but welcome.
The grin that spreads across Julian’s face is so wide it looks like it could split his face in two. And that's what I'm beginning to love - his smile that somehow infuses me with strength and confidence. His simple smile feels like an outstretched hand, pulling me out of the deep, dark hole I've been trapped in for so long.
“I am focused—on matters important to me,” he replies, his voice low as our eyes.
I stand up firmly. “Matters like your first meeting,” I assert, trying to steer the conversation back to professionalism.
Who am I kidding? While my exterior is clad in professional work attire, my mind is adorned in La Perla, yearning to be caressed by silken sheets.
“Exactly,” he agrees, but his gaze ensnares mine with an intensity so strong it leaves me momentarily breathless.
“You’re being naughty. Time to get to work, Mr. Sterling,” I chide.
I turn and leave his office with a new Guinness World Record for the widest grin; I think Mr. Sterling is falling head over cowboy boots for me.