Alyssa Carter, Esquire
alyssa
The service elevator doors opened to reveal what looked like half a storage unit's worth of boxes and furniture crowding the hallway outside my new condo.
Tre was leaning against the wall scrolling through his phone, Zion, a toolbox at his feet, was examining my door lock, and Raschad was directing their cousin Khairos, who was carrying my dining room chairs.
Julian stood in the middle of it all, dressed in black athletic shorts and a gray tank that was already damp with sweat, moving my coffee table like it was made of foam.
The heat had everyone working in minimal clothing, and I had to force myself not to stare at the way his shoulders flexed as he lifted.
I paused in the doorway, still wearing the navy blazer and pencil skirt from my interview in Ashford Heights, taking in the controlled chaos.
One minute I was packing up a life in New Jersey with shaking hands, the next here I was, watching my baby brother's extended family treat my fresh start like it was their personal mission.
“There she is,” Raschad called out.
“Interview ran longer than expected.” I set my purse on the kitchen counter, surveying the operation. “You all really didn't have to do all this.”
“Yes, we did,” Julian said, not looking up as he and Tre maneuvered my sectional.
“I should change out of this suit before I ruin it,” I said.
“Take your time,” Raschad said. “We got this under control.”
I changed and came back out in shorts and a tank top, ready to work instead of supervise. Julian glanced up, and his eyes held a half-second past necessary.
“Better,” he said.
Before I could respond, Raschad was calling for help with placement of my bedroom furniture.
The next two hours passed as they moved through the condo with efficient teamwork that spoke to years of family projects. Zion took anything with screws. Tre wired the electronics. Raschad and Khairos ran traffic.
Julian handled the heaviest lifting, moving my furniture with an ease that made me pause more than once to appreciate the view.
There was something almost hypnotic about watching him move.
The controlled power in his movements, the way he took charge without being bossy, the sheen of sweat that made his rich brown skin gleam.
But what struck me most was being surrounded by masculine energy that felt protective rather than overwhelming.
These five men had shown up on a Friday afternoon to move furniture for someone they were still getting to know.
Not one of them making me feel like I was a bother or owed them for it.
It felt like being wrapped in family, like suddenly having a house full of more brothers.
Except Julian didn't feel like a brother. Not even close. When he caught me staring as he tested my new security system— something else he'd arranged without asking, claiming the building's doorman wasn't sufficient on its own — the energy that sparked between us was anything but familial.
By late afternoon my place looked like a showroom arranged by someone with excellent taste. Tre had a studio session; Zion had a dinner date with Taryn. Khairos left with a wave. Raschad pulled me into a hug on his way out.
“Glad you’re here, Alyssa.” He held me by the shoulders. “We’re gonna miss you at the house. How you feeling?”
“Good.” I gave him a squeeze. “You gonna miss me, or miss the free babysitting?”
“Both. And those services are still active. Don’t get comfortable.”
I laughed and gave him another hug before he left.
Then it was just Julian, running the kitchen tap, watching the temperature like the faucet might lie to him.
“Pressure’s good. Ten seconds to fully hot.” He shut it off to face me. “Security system's set up. I programmed the main code, but you should change it to something you'll remember.”
“Julian.” I leaned against the counter. “Thank you. For all of this. The security system, making sure everything works, organizing help for my move.”
“You don't need to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. So thank you.”
“You hungry?” he asked. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
“Starving. You must be too. Let’s go. My treat.”
He shook his head immediately. “That's not necessary.”
I insisted. “Let me thank you for the moving help.”
“Alyssa. I don’t need you paying for it.”
I stared at him. “This really bothers you, doesn't it? The thought of me paying for your meal?”
“It doesn't make sense. I offered to take you to eat.”
“That holds for dating, Julian. Clearly you've never had a platonic female friend before.”
“Are you hungry or not?” he asked, tilting his head at me.
“I told you, I’m starving.”
“Then let’s go.”
Maple’s was a comfortable neighborhood spot with exposed brick walls and mismatched furniture that somehow worked perfectly together. We'd been seated maybe ten minutes, just long enough to order drinks and scan the menu, when a woman approached our table.
“Julian Wade!” Her voice carried across the small restaurant. “I haven't seen you out and about in ages.”
Julian looked up, his expression shifting to polite recognition. “Mrs. Henderson. How are you?”
“Fine, fine. Just finishing dinner with my book club.” She glanced between Julian and me with curiosity, waiting for an introduction that didn't immediately come.
“This is Alyssa Carter,” Julian said after a moment. “Alyssa, Mrs. Henderson runs the community center downtown.”
“Pleasure to meet you, dear.” Mrs. Henderson's smile was warm but assessing. “Raschad's sister, right? Welcome to Lennox Falls. Are you just visiting or...?”
“I moved here,” I said. “Just got settled in today, actually.”
“How lovely. Well, I'll let you two get back to your meal.” She gave Julian a meaningful look. “Enjoy your evening.”
After she left, I noticed several other diners glancing our way with varying degrees of curiosity.
“Popular man,” I observed.
Julian's mouth quirked up. “Small town. Everyone knows everyone.”
A few minutes later a tall, broad man came toward us with a smile. There was something about his presence that reminded me of Julian, though they looked nothing alike. Julian was on his feet dapping him up before I could place why his energy felt familiar.
“Well, well. What up, cuz,” the man said.
“Didn't expect to see you here tonight,” Julian said.
“Had a meeting nearby, came to grab something to go.” The man shifted his eyes to me with polite curiosity, and I caught him giving Julian a knowing look. “Who's your friend?”
“Alyssa Carter,” I said, extending my hand.
“Khaz Kendrix. Nice to put a face to the name.” His handshake was firm, assessing. “Mind if I sit for a minute?”
Julian gestured to the empty chair. “Khaz is our cousin. My Aunt Lorraine's oldest.”
“I just left my mother's house. I met your son, actually. Think he and Zhaire were plotting world domination the way they had their heads together.”
I nodded. That explained the matching energy, the easy way they moved around each other.
“I was gonna call you this week, actually.” Khaz dropped into the empty chair, glancing between us with a smirk he wasn’t trying hard to hide.
“Got an employee going through it at her son’s school.
Kid’s smart. Honor roll. But he’s got lupus.
Flare-ups mean a lot of missed days, and the principal’s trying to hold him back over the absences.
Won’t look at the medical documentation.
I was wondering if you had any contacts at the district. Board of Ed or anything like that.”
I felt my attention lock onto the conversation. “That’s a clean ADA violation. Schools have to accommodate documented disabilities. Lupus absolutely qualifies, especially for attendance policies.”
Khaz’s brows went up, and he shot Julian another look. “You sound like you know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m a lawyer. I’ve handled quite a few education discrimination cases at legal aid. This kind of ignorance is more common than you’d think.”
“Would you be willing to talk to her? Maybe meet with the principal?” Khaz asked. “I can pay whatever your rate is.”
“I'm still waiting on my North Carolina bar results,” I said automatically. “But I could consult. Help her understand her rights.”
“How about lunch Monday?” Julian offered. “I can clear my schedule, meet you both at the school.”
He looked at Khaz. “If the principal doesn't budge, I know people at the district who will.”
Khaz grinned wider. “Monday lunch works perfectly.”
“Have your employee call me tomorrow,” I said. “I'll want to review all the documentation before we meet with the principal.”
“Appreciated,” Khaz said, standing. He clapped Julian on the shoulder. “Still on for the gym Thursday?”
“Yep,” Julian confirmed.
“Good. Both of you take care.” He shook my hand and shot Julian one final look before heading toward the exit.
Our food came, salmon for me, a ribeye for him, and the glances from the other tables kept up.
“Either I’m imagining it,” I said, “or people keep looking over here.”
Julian glanced around the restaurant, then back at me. “You're a new face. And I don't usually go out with women unless it's family or business. People are probably just curious.”
I looked at him surprised. “What do you mean you don't date? Are you... celibate?”
Julian laughed, a genuine sound that made my stomach flutter. “I didn't say I was celibate. I said I don't date. I don't do relationships like that.”
I held his eyes, considered it, then nodded. “Fair. Neither do I.”
“No?”
“No. Been there. Done that. Hated it. I’m not in that market anymore.”
“Hmm,” he said, nodding like he was filing it away.
“Hmm,” I mimicked back.
He didn't ask me to explain myself. I didn’t ask him to explain himself either. The facts had been put on the table and left there.
“So they think we’re dating,” I said, tipping my head at the room.
“Maybe. Possibly. It’s a small town. People gossip for entertainment. Don't worry about it.”
“I’m not worried about it. They can think whatever they want to think.”
“There's that fire.” He grinned.
“Fire?”
“The flames you were spitting at me on that football field.”