Chapter 15
JULIAN
The clink of utensils and bouncing chatter fill my ears when I should be focusing on my sister across from me, having lunch at Jupiter. My mistake, since this place reminds me of Savannah and the night we had unexpected drinks and some obscure mushroom with cheese.
Vaguely, I hear my sister Caroline saying my name on repeat, and I bring my attention back to her.
We only meet a few times a year, and that suits us.
There’s no bad blood, quite the contrary.
We’re just not, well, close-knit people who need to chat every day.
I’m career-driven, and while she does have a career with her boutique art gallery, she would rather be spending money in France.
Her pantsuit today is a little too dull for a woman her age, but to each their own.
“As I was saying, are you sure you don’t want to attend a meeting?”
I grimace tightly. “And break tradition? Why would I do that?” I answer sarcastically.
“You’re really never going to show an interest?”
I shake my head proudly before happily taking a bite of my BLT.
"I know you have no intention of seeing Dad again, and I don't enjoy that annual, distant nod in his direction. But grandmother left us those shares, and we shouldn't let them be taken from us."
“True. But I’m quite satisfied with you voting on my behalf for whatever is on the agenda.”
Her eyes bug out. “You really don’t even read the agenda?”
“Why would I do that? That’s what I have you for. Unless voting harms the man who’s no longer a father to us, abstain from every vote. Abstaining always disrupts the vote count for whatever agenda they’re pushing. I see my shares as merely stock—the last tie to what grandmother wanted.”
She cuts the chicken in her salad and wobbles her head. “That also works.”
“Then why do you insist on going?”
Caroline shrugs, before popping the food into her mouth. “I don’t know. Curiosity, perhaps.” She speaks with her mouth full.
“Well, you enjoy that and don’t let me know how it goes. I’ll even let you vote on my behalf for once as your early birthday present. So go wild as long as it screws something up.”
She holds her palm up to ease me. “Fine. I get the hint. No more discussion on this.” She drops her hand. “What else is new? You know, I’ve decided that I’m putting in my will that if I die, you get my kids.”
I look at her strangely. “You don’t have kids.”
"Yes. But maybe one day I will." She’s playing hypotheticals again. Sometimes, out of nowhere, she plans her life. Last time, it was a vacation house in Aspen—she hates snow.
“Don’t do something so stupid. I’m horrible with kids.”
“Speaking of which, how’s the hunt for a wife going?”
I scratch my chin. "I’ll take that as, is there a woman in my life?"
She grins because she enjoys putting me on the spot. “Yep.”
My chest tightens. Conflict hits hard—a surge of fear, resentment, and hope. “There’s nobody.” Except someone twisting everything inside me—everything I hate. Yet for the first time, someone is winning me over, and it terrifies me.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Someone mentioned they saw you at the gala with someone.”
I hum in acknowledgment. “That was my assistant, Savannah.”
She butters her roll, and I’m beginning to lose my own appetite because thoughts of Savannah can’t be escaped.
To the point that I’m debating if I should bring her a piece of s'mores pie back to the office, as it’s an award-winning dessert here, although she is probably the best dessert on the menu today.
But my last gift of a necklace was not well received, probably because I shamefully didn’t own up to it.
It’s complicated between us, but I wanted her to have something nice to celebrate her accomplishment.
I failed to think through the coward angle.
“Ah, okay. I admittedly searched the internet for a photo from the night, and my eye caught one. She’s pretty. Younger, but pretty. Beautiful, actually. Hopefully, you keep her around for a while.”
She isn’t going to make a suggestion that Savannah and I could be anything else because we both despise mixing work with pleasure. Yet, that’s all I seem to be doing lately.
A glance at my watch reminds me of the meeting I have in half an hour, and an odd sensation of wanting to stay longer tugs at me. I mask it with a joke as I flag down the waiter. “It’s been fun, we should do this more often. Let’s say in six months?”
My sister smiles. “Totally.”
When the waiter approaches, I debate ordering dessert. But for the first time lately, I’m smart.
Savannah and I watch as another candidate for the COO position vanishes into the elevator.
The moment the doors close, I tip my head in the direction of my office, and she follows me in tow, closing the door behind her.
If it weren’t for the fact that I need privacy during calls and meetings, I think I would rip the door off its hinges to ensure I can never be in a closed room with her.
It’s tempting, risky, and far too confronting of the memory of the curve of her spine.
“That was horrible,” she begins.
"Very," I agree, reaching the coffee machine.
We saw the last candidate only as a favor to my high-up in finance; he was stiff and would never think outside the box.
I start my coffee, then give her a brief glance and raise a cup to see if she wants one.
Inviting her to stay for coffee has been another dicey move lately.
She shakes her head. “No, thanks. It’s after 12. You shouldn’t drink so much coffee. It isn’t good for sleep.”
“I sleep fine, as you kn—” I stop myself from finishing the sentence, but the damage is done, and we both know what I meant.
“Fine. You shouldn’t drink it because it spikes your blood sugar before making you crash. It wrecks your mood. We go from nearly tolerable Julian to devil incarnate. It’s bad for humanity.” Her knack for keeping us on track is a godsend.
The corner of my mouth tugs from her humor, but I don’t let her see as I keep my back to her while finishing my coffee. “You’ve highlighted that many times.”
“It wasn’t in my job description, so I took the liberty of adding it. Anyhow, you need someone for the job who is an all-rounder, smiles, yet can relate to someone who thinks in numbers or IT.”
“In other words, the socially awkward.”
Turning, I’m faced with her unimpressed look. “They are not socially awkward.”
“Tell me, if you had more experience, would you want the COO job?” I’m curious. On a completely professional level, actually. “I mean, we are paying off your degree in a field that suits.” I’m still holding up the pretense.
She blinks a few times, clearly not having expected my question. “I mean, it crossed my mind a few times.” She’s unsure, but after a few seconds, everything in her posture grows comfortable. “Actually, no.”
Huh. That’s blunt. “You wouldn’t want to be the COO for a billion-dollar company?” I’m doubtful.
“No. Don’t let it hurt your ego, but your company isn’t the end-all for some.
I think I would stay here for the years promised, plus a few more to get more experience.
But I think something smaller and closer to Everhope might be of interest. For now, I will help my aunt when I can with her business. ”
My lips quirk out, and I appreciate her honesty. “I wasn’t expecting your answer. But you always catch me off guard.”
A bright smile stretches on her gorgeous face.
“I do.” Her tone is soft, and our eyes catch while silence swims around us.
We allow it to happen for a few more seconds until her eyes drift to the side.
“Uhm, anyhow. We have the trip for your speaking engagement. You’ll need to be at the airport on time.
There will be a business lounge to sit in before we board. ”
“Business lounge? Why would I need that? I’m going straight to my jet.”
She grimaces with a mix of fear and satisfaction. “We’re flying commercial.”
I drained the last sip of my caffeine and set it back on the table. “Why the fuck would we do that?”
“Because where you’re going to speak is very environmentally friendly. Arriving by personal jet isn’t exactly great for your optics.”
I clench my fists. “Damn it.” She’s right. “Fine. But they better have scotch on hand.”
“I’ll bring a small bottle in case,” she promises, but she isn’t serious, which is a shame.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I reach in and see Hayes’s name on the screen.
“I need to take this,” I say.
“Sure. Oh, and I got this for you for the flight.” She stuffs her hand into her dress pocket as she walks toward the door, and she tosses me a small box in passing. “You might get bored, flying commercial and all.” She glances over her shoulder and winks at me before she closes the door.
I swipe my phone and bring it to my ear as I head to my desk. “Hey.” I could use the break from this office. So be it, a simple call from a buddy is what it has to be today.
“Hey. Thought I would check in with you. I wanted to send you a candidate for the job if you're interested. I can email you his details.”
“Firstly, no business discussion. Secondly, if we were to discuss business, it would be about convincing you to join my company.” I lean back, throw my feet onto the desk, and glance at the contents of the box in my hand.
A pack of playing cards.
And they’re not the normal kind that you can pick up at the store for two dollars.
The colors are faded, and the case is gray. Their box looks aged by years, by no means new.
I smile to myself. She is full of surprises.
“Since we will not be discussing business, surprise me and tell me what else is new.”
“Uh.” I slide my jaw side to side and ponder, unable to look away from the box I continue to examine. “Shit.” That isn’t a lie.
He chuckles, and I hate that I just opened the door for him. “I have a feeling why, but you set the no-business-discussion rule. I’ll assume your issues involve a certain employee.”
I place the box on my desk and pinch the bridge of my nose. “No comment.”
“That’s a yes. You know if it were simply a physical thing, she wouldn’t be wreaking havoc in your life. Therefore, I’m going to go with the idea that there is perhaps a little more.”
“You can say that again.” I let out a long exhale. “And now we’re about to go on a business trip together.”
He laughs for a solid few seconds. “Good luck with that. It’s only risky because clearly she brings more to the table than her looks.”
“That’s the problem. She’s funny, gives as good as she gets, and knows me better than most. And I’ve seen her naked.”
“Ah, so yeah, you went full swing on this.”
I’m getting a headache. “I don’t want to be that guy who hooks up with his assistant. She deserves a hell of a lot more respect than that. Plus, it isn’t that. It’s something else that I can’t pinpoint, but it’s gnawing at me.”
“I’m not the guy to be telling you to explore that. I have zero experience, but it would seem to be the obvious advice someone would give. It only takes one person to flip your world, right?”
I swivel my chair as I contemplate. “I’m not the relationship type of guy. I can’t offer her much.”
“Fine. Have fun watching her receive flowers from some guy named Steven, who she probably had a date with because her friends set her up.”
The hint of jealousy for a fictitious what-if is deeply concerning.
“I have a no-flower policy,” I deadpan.
“Don’t be stubborn. You are about to be stuck with the woman on a business trip. At least be open-minded. Tell me, are your rooms next to one another? No, even better, let’s hope they misbooked, and boom, you two need to share a room.”
“Funny.”
“Anyhow, I have to run. If you can hold an engaging conversation with her and there’s attraction, you might as well stop being an ass. Don’t let good things get away. I mean, fuck, I still think about that woman from a few years ago and my stupidity for not exchanging details.”
I snort a laugh. “Really? Are you bringing that up again? I hope your therapist evaluates that more.”
“This isn’t about me.” I can hear him smile. “All I’m saying is sometimes we have to look at things from a different angle, even if that means it involves a physical or non-physical connection with your PA.”
Rolling my lips in, I’m struggling to accept his logic, even though I know he’s right. “She makes it impossible to focus, invades my space, and messes with my rationality. What’s worse is that I believe she is well aware.”
“Easy. Break down a layer or two. Maybe you’ll prove the world wrong and be a good catch. Hell, it’ll be refreshing to hear that you decided to take the next step.”
“I have been an ass lately. Still, she hasn’t quit. But that’s work. Who knows on the personal level?”
“Well, you should figure that out. Anyhow, I need to go.”
We say our goodbyes, and I’m left to consider some of his views. It’s a solid five minutes, then seven, then ten before I decide to take a plunge and tell Savannah that we should talk.
Getting up from my chair, I almost charge to my door, which I open with force, and Savannah quickly looks up. She must have put on a fresh coat of lip gloss, damn that move.
“For the trip. You and me, we should discuss…” It’s on the tip of my tongue, but my throat clogs, and I’m unable to find the words except… “Be sure to bring your A-game on this trip,” I instruct, and I sound condescending, to be honest.
No wonder her eyes turn to saucers. “And this is why I ensured I booked my seat on the plane, not next to you.”
“Really?” Damn, that’s hardcore avoidance.
“Yeah. I didn’t want to take the risk that you’re having a moment when you’re a complete jerk.” The widespread attitude in her voice drives me wild.
I hate her for that. “Let’s hope your seat has a life vest in case of emergency.”
“Yeah. Thanks for that. Completely cursing our flight,” she flatly replies.
“You’re welcome. A-game, only that,” I remind her with firmness in my voice before I pivot back into my office and slam the door shut.
Because Savannah is causing me to lose my grip, and I’m struggling to hang on. I’m the one who needs a damn life vest, even if there’s no water.