Chapter 19 #2
“Ugh, no.” Jennie makes a disgusted face. “There are barely a dozen okay-looking guys at Grinnell, and they’re all taken. The two of you should’ve talked some sense into me when I decided to go to college in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, it’s worse than being in high school.”
“No!” I widen my eyes in mock horror. “Worse than being in high school?”
“Nothing’s worse than being in high school,” Leah says, and the two of them begin to argue about the comparative availability of guys in a suburban high school versus a tiny liberal arts college.
As the meal proceeds, we talk about anything and everything except my relationship with Julian.
Leah tells us about an internship she got at a Chicago law firm, and Jennie shares amusing stories about her recent vacation in Curacao.
“They had an oil-processing plant right next to our hotel. Can you believe it?” she complains, and Leah and I agree that even a salt-water infinity pool—a cool feature of Jennie’s hotel—can’t make up for something as atrocious as an oil refinery in a vacation spot.
Eventually, the conversation turns to my life on the estate, and I tell them all about my online classes at Stanford, the art lessons I’m getting from Monsieur Bernard, and my growing friendship with Rosa.
“I wanted her to join us today, but she couldn’t,” I explain, feeling slightly guilty about that.
“My parents are coming over for dinner, and Julian asked Rosa to help with the meal.” As I say that, I realize how spoiled I sound—and from the envious looks on Jennie and Leah’s faces, they realize it too.
“Wow,” Jennie says, shaking her head. “No wonder you’re happy with this guy. He treats you like a freaking princess. If someone gave me Stanford, servants, and a huge estate, I wouldn’t mind getting kidnapped either.”
“Jennie!” Leah gives her an appalled look. “You don’t mean that.”
“No, I probably don’t,” Jennie agrees, grinning. “Still, Nora, you have to admit, the whole thing is kind of cool.”
I shrug, smiling. “Kind of cool” is one way to describe it. Messed up and complicated is another—but I’m happy to stick with Jennie’s description for now.
“Wait, did you say your parents are coming over for dinner?” Leah asks, as if just now processing that part of my statement. “Like, to have dinner with you and him?”
“Yes,” I say, enjoying the expressions on both of my friends’ faces.
“We had dinner at my parents’ house last night, so today they’re coming over to our place.
” And as Leah and Jennie continue to stare at me in shock, I explain that Julian purchased a house in Palos Park, so we’d have someplace secure to stay during our visits.
“Girl, I have to say, you live in a whole other world now,” Jennie says, shaking her head. “Private island, an estate in Columbia, now this…”
“None of that makes up for the fact that he’s a psychopath,” Leah says, giving Jennie a sharp look before turning to me. “Nora, how are your parents dealing with him?”
“They’re… dealing.” I don’t know how else to describe the wary acceptance on my parents’ part. “It’s obviously not easy for them.”
“Yeah, I can imagine,” Jennie says. “They’re troopers, your parents. Mine would’ve gone nuts.”
“I don’t think ‘going nuts’ would’ve helped matters,” Leah says astutely. “I’m sure Nora’s parents are just happy to have her back.”
I start to reply, but at that moment, both Jennie and Leah look up, gaping at something behind me. Instinctively, I turn, my heartbeat spiking—and look up straight into my former captor’s blue gaze.
He’s standing over me, his hand resting casually on the back of my chair and his lips curved in a dangerously sexy smile. “Mind if I join you, ladies?” he asks, looking amused.
“Julian.” I jump in my seat, startled and more than a little flustered. “What are you doing here?”
“My meeting ended early, so I figured I’d swing by and see if you’re ready to go home,” he says. “But I see you’re not done yet.”
“Um, no. We were just about to get dessert.” I cast an uncertain glance at Leah and Jennie, and see that they’re both staring at Julian. Leah looks like she’s ready to bolt, while Jennie’s expression is a mixture of fascination and awe.
Shit. So much for a normal lunch with my friends. Turning my attention back to Julian, I say reluctantly, “I mean, I could be done if—”
“No, no, please join us if you have time,” Jennie jumps in, apparently recovering from her shock. “They have great cheesecake here.”
“Well, in that case, I must stay,” Julian says smoothly, taking a seat next to me. “I wouldn’t want to deprive Nora of such a delicacy.” He smiles at me. “Your hair looks great, by the way, baby. You were right about the layers.”
“Oh.” Remembering my small act of rebellion, I touch my hair, feeling the shorter strands. His approval is both a disappointment and a relief. “Thanks.”
“It does look nice on her,” Leah says hoarsely, and I see that her eyes look less panicked now. Clearing her throat, she adds unnecessarily, “The new haircut, I mean.”
Julian’s smile broadens. “Yes. She looks gorgeous, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, gorgeous,” Jennie echoes, except she’s looking at Julian instead of me. She seems mesmerized, and I can’t blame her. With the scars on his face nearly gone and his eye implant indistinguishable from the real thing, Julian is as magnificent as ever, his masculine beauty dark and striking.
Finally gathering my scattered wits, I say, “Sorry, I’ve forgotten to introduce everyone. Julian—these are my friends Leah and Jennie. Leah, Jennie—this is Julian, my husband.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Julian says with easy charm. “Nora’s told me quite a bit about you.”
“Oh?” Leah frowns. Unlike Jennie, she doesn’t seem dazzled by his looks. “Like what?”
“Like the fact that the two of you have been friends since middle school,” Julian says. “Or that you, Jennie, were Nora’s date to the sophomore homecoming dance.”
I blink, surprised. I had mentioned this to Julian at some point, but I didn’t expect him to remember such trivia.
“Oh, wow,” Jennie breathes, her eyes still glued to Julian’s face. “I can’t believe she’s told you all that.”
Leah’s mouth tightens, and she motions at the waiter. “A slice of cheesecake, please, and then the check,” she requests when he comes over. “Their portions are huge,” she explains, even though nobody objected to the size of her order. “We can all split it.”
“That’s fine with me,” I say. I’m surprised Leah is willing to stay long enough to eat the cheesecake.
I wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d walked out right then and there.
I know she’s aware of what happened to Jake, and the fact that she’s willing to be somewhat civil to Julian speaks volumes about her commitment to our friendship.
“So tell me,” Julian says when the waiter departs, “how was your lunch so far? Did Nora already tell you the big news?”
I freeze, horrified that he’s outing me like this. Telling my friends about the baby was something I’d planned to do much later, when it was inevitable. Not today, when I could still pretend to be a carefree college girl.
“What big news?” Jennie asks eagerly, leaning forward. Her eyes are wide with curiosity. “Nora didn’t tell us anything.”
“She didn’t tell you about the gallery owner in Paris?” Julian gives me a sidelong look. “The one who put in an offer to buy her paintings?”
“What?” Leah exclaims. “When did this happen, Nora?”
“Um, just yesterday,” I mumble, a wave of relief sweeping away the sick feeling in my stomach. “Julian told me about it, but I haven’t seen the offer yet.”
“Wow, congratulations.” Jennie beams at me. “So you’re about to be a famous artist, huh?”
“I don’t know about famous—” I begin, but Julian cuts me off.
“She is,” he says firmly. “The gallery owner is offering ten thousand euros for each of the five paintings.” And amidst my friends’ exclamations of excitement, he explains that the gallery owner is a known art collector, and that my paintings are already gaining notoriety in Paris due to Monsieur Bernard’s connections.
In the middle of all this, our cheesecake slice arrives. Leah had been right to order only one; the slice is nearly the size of my head. The waiter brings out four little plates, and we split the cake as Julian answers Jennie’s questions about the Paris art scene and France in general.
“Wow, Nora, what an exciting life you’re about to start,” Jennie says, reaching for the check that the waiter brought. “You’ll tell us when you have your first show, right?”
“I’ve got this,” Julian says, picking up the check before Jennie can touch it. And before my friends can utter a word of protest, he hands two one-hundred-dollar bills to the waiter, saying, “Keep the change.”
“Oh, thank you,” Jennie says as the ecstatic-looking waiter hurries away. “You didn’t have to do that. You just had a bite of the cheesecake, not any of the food.”
“Please let us pay you for our portion,” Leah says stiffly, reaching for her wallet, but Julian waves her off.
“Please, don’t worry. It’s the least I can do for Nora’s friends.” Rising to his feet, he extends his palm toward me. “Ready, baby?”
“Yes,” I say, placing my hand in his. My few hours of freedom are over, but somehow I don’t mind. As exciting as the day had been, it feels comforting to be claimed by Julian again.
To be back where I belong.