Chapter 13 Rule #13 Never let them see inside your mind.
Julian
“So what do the wristbands mean?” Elizabeth asks, holding the dark red braided polyester cuff in her fingers.
There is an assortment of them in various colors sitting in the middle of the table. Stationed around it, the team picks one of each from the pile, inspecting them with curiosity.
“Well, that’s something we can work on,” I reply, “but here’s my proposal.
Green means here to play with anyone and everyone.
Yellow means specifically looking for a male.
Purple means specifically looking for a female.
Red means leave me the fuck alone. And this is only the start, really.
We can play with various colors for various kinks.
Perhaps a submissive looking for a Dom, a bunny looking for a rigger, or a couple looking for a third. ”
“Fascinating,” Jack says, examining the braided rope in his hand. “They’re good quality.”
I clear my throat, standing at the front of the room. “They’re pricey, but we have a standard to uphold now. We can’t pass out paper and silicone junk. These bands should be something people are proud to wear.”
It’s Phoenix who speaks up next, her elbows on the table, a determined look on her face. “This will make the club less intimidating for our patrons. They won’t be so scared to come in if they could put a band on their wrist that says, and I quote, ‘leave me the fuck alone.’”
“Exactly.”
“This isn’t about return on investment,” she continues. “This contributes to the overall value of the club. Things like this that make it safer and more welcoming.” Phoenix is always thinking about ROI, so I’m relieved that she sees the potential instead of just the investment.
Jack is sitting proudly at the head of the table, a smirk on his face as he listens to Phoenix.
And it grates on my nerves how much I appreciate his praise, how much I yearn for it.
Jack is my business partner now, and I tried like hell to hate him.
Ask anyone at this table, and they’ll tell you I still do.
He had a relationship with my father that I envied. He was the golden boy, the firstborn, the pride and joy of the Salacious family. I was…the runner-up.
“Yes,” he says with a smile, “these are the innovative ideas we need. Like Weston,” he says, pointing at the bartender across the table.
“His brilliant idea for those glasses that can detect if any drugs have been added to a drink.” Then he looks at me with a proud grin, and I try my damnedest not to feel a bit of warmth in my chest. “This is good, Julian. I like this a lot.”
I won’t smile back. I refuse to look like a fool, folding to his praise. So with a flat, emotionless expression, I nod. The asshole doesn’t even bother to look disturbed by it.
Phoenix starts talking numbers again, discussing investments and membership fees, and I hold the red band in my fingers, spinning it slowly, and as my mind so often does lately, it returns to them.
It’s been nearly a week since our date, and I haven’t seen either of them since the morning they woke up in my apartment.
However, the group chat has stayed active.
It’s obvious that the three of us are all equally intrigued by whatever this is between us.
We tried calling it a friendship at first, but I think that night in the restaurant proved that’s not exactly what we are anymore, especially after Archer proceeded to nearly kiss me to death for almost an hour on my couch, a kiss I have replayed in my mind over and over and over since then.
I can’t remember the last person I kissed before Archer.
Has it been months? Years? I nearly forgot how intimate it was.
During our kiss, it was like the entire world disappeared, and it was just us.
His lips, his mouth. I swear I could feel his fucking soul in that kiss and the way he softly moaned against my lips, his hands cradling my face, his delicate breath against my cheek.
“Hey, Jules, you still with us?”
I blink, looking up to find the entire team staring at me with confusion. “What?” I bark.
“Phoenix was just asking for a price point or a bulk cost of the wristbands,” Jack says gently.
Elizabeth rolls her eyes, looking down at her phone, and Weston is wearing a very mischievous smirk as if he could read my mind and all the dirty thoughts playing inside.
“The numbers are in the proposal,” I say coldly, clicking the button on my computer to show the next slide.
“Care to indulge us on what exactly had you so distracted?” Weston asks.
I don’t even justify it with a response. Furrowing my brow, I turn away from him, but then my damn sister has to chime in.
“I know what he’s thinking about,” she says.
“Don’t you dare, Mel,” I growl.
“Oh, come on,” Weston complains. “Do it, Mel. Tell us.”
I hold up my hands, looking at Jack and waiting for him to put an end to this. “This is a little unprofessional, don’t you think?”
He crosses his arms over his chest, a slightly quizzical bend to his brow. “Well, now wait a second. I’m a little curious.”
I scoff. “This meeting is over.”
“It’s nothing, really,” Amelia says, trying to backtrack. “Just that Julian got stuck in an elevator with my best friend Freya and a hunk for twelve hours, and then the three of them went out to dinner not long after.”
Tilting my head down, I glare at my sister through my lashes. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry,” she says with a shrug. “I didn’t realize it was a secret.”
With a clearly defensive tone, I argue, “Can’t anyone have any privacy around here? That’s not what I was thinking about, and it’s not like that. We’re just friends.”
I should have known this was the wrong thing to say, because me admitting that I have “friends” only causes more of a stir among the team.
“Friends?” Jack laughs before quickly composing himself. “Sorry. I just mean that’s great. We should all have friends outside the club.”
I roll my eyes, turning away from him. “You can all go fuck yourselves,” I mutter, standing from the table and slamming my laptop shut. The presentation on the wall goes black. “I will email you the proposal so you have all the numbers and information you want.”
“Now wait a minute,” Phoenix whines. She’s the only one here who might actually be interested in the proposal now, and not my new budding relationships. To my disappointment, she asks, “Is the hunk single?”
Everyone at the table laughs.
“I hate you all,” I grumble.
“I’m confused,” Weston adds as I gather my things. “Which one is Julian into, your friend or the hunk?”
“Or both?” Elizabeth adds.
As the only other grump in the group, I glare at her as I mumble, “Traitor.”
“Oh yeah, is it both?” Weston asks.
Finally at my breaking point, I shove my chair in loudly as I bark, “It’s neither, okay? I’m not interested in either of them. In fact, we are not even friends. I find them both insufferable and annoying, and I’m never seeing them again. And I fucking hate you all. Goodbye.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Jack whines while the group laughs.
“We love you, Julian,” Amelia calls as I storm out of the room.
“I hope it’s both,” Weston shouts.
When I get to my office, I slam the door with a huff. This is why I fucking hate relationships. Everyone’s always in my business, wanting to know how I feel, wanting to know my personal details, and it’s fucking bullshit.
I don’t feel anything.
I don’t care about anyone.
I don’t want Archer or Freya, so everyone can just leave me the hell alone.
And yet at that very moment, my phone buzzes, and I quickly retrieve it from my pocket, seeing a new message in our group chat. For someone who doesn’t care about either of them, I scramble quickly to read it.
It’s from Freya.
Freya: What are you guys doing Friday night? I’m off, and I thought it might be fun to cook you dinner here.
Archer responds immediately.
Archer: I’ll get to see you and eat your food? I’m in.
Julian: Me too.
I feel like a fool for only responding with two words. Of course, Archer’s already used to me and quickly covers.
Archer: “Me too” is just Julian’s way of saying he’s thrilled by the invitation and can’t wait to see us.
Freya: I know. I speak Julian now.
A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I stare down at the screen.
That is exactly what it meant.