Chapter 14 Vivienne #2
We found a quiet corner where we could talk without being overheard. Julian leaned against the wall, studying my face with those intense gray eyes.
"How are you feeling about all this?" he asked. "The gallery last night, being here today, meeting the less pleasant side of my world?"
"Honestly? It's eye-opening," I said. "I'm starting to understand that every world has its politics and its bullies. But it's also incredibly creative and exciting. Watching you work, seeing how all these pieces come together… it's amazing."
Julian's smile was soft and genuine. "I'm glad you're here. Your insight about the movement in that first shot, Jeremy has already incorporated it into the rest of the setup. You made the entire shoot better."
Before I could respond, we were interrupted by Roy appearing with a clipboard.
"Julian, we need you to review the next setup. And there's been a scheduling conflict with the next model, she's running two hours late."
Julian sighed, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders. "Let me guess, traffic?"
"Hangover," Roy said dryly. "Should I call the backup?"
"Yes. And see if we can rearrange the order to accommodate." Julian turned to me. "I'm sorry, I need to handle this."
"Of course," I said. "I'll just watch from here."
But as Julian started to walk away, he paused and turned back. "Actually… Vivienne, how would you feel about stepping in for one of the shots?"
"What?" My eyes widened with shock. "Julian, I'm not a model. I don't know how to—"
"You know how to move naturally, which is more than I can say for half the professionals I work with. And you understand what the clothes are supposed to communicate." His eyes held mine with gentle encouragement. "It would just be one setup. Something simple."
I felt panic and excitement warring in my chest. "I don't know..."
"Think about it," Julian said. "Roy can show you around while I handle this crisis. If you decide you want to try it, we'll make it happen. If not, that’s fine. No pressure at all."
He disappeared back into the chaos, leaving me standing there with Roy, my mind racing.
"He's never asked anyone to step in before," Roy said conversationally. "Not once in all the years I've worked for him."
"That doesn't make me feel less nervous," I said with a shaky laugh.
"Would you like to see the break room?" Roy asked kindly. "It's quieter there. You can think without all the noise."
I nodded gratefully, and Roy led me through a door into a smaller, much calmer space. It was clearly designed for the staff to decompress, with comfortable couches and a coffee station with large windows that looked out onto a small garden.
And in the corner, hanging on a hook, was a motorcycle helmet.
"Is that Julian's?" I asked, walking over to examine it.
"Oh yes," Roy said with a smile. "He rides his bike to work sometimes, especially when he's stressed. Says it helps him think."
I touched the helmet gently, remembering the sight of Julian pulling up to the gallery on Friday night, the way he'd looked both dangerous and elegant as he'd removed it on the sidewalk.
"I'll leave you to it," Roy said tactfully. "Coffee's fresh if you want some."
Alone in the break room, I settled onto one of the couches with a cup of coffee, my mind spinning with the events of the morning. Julian wanted me to model for him. It was flattering and terrifying in equal measure.
I was still holding the warm mug when Julian appeared in the doorway, looking slightly frazzled but relieved.
"Crisis averted," he said, closing the door behind him. "The backup model is on her way, and we've rearranged the schedule." He noticed me looking at the helmet. "I see you found my gear."
"Roy mentioned you ride to work sometimes," I said. "I was thinking about last night, when you showed up at the gallery on your bike. How did you get it home? You rode in the car with me."
Julian's smile was slightly sheepish. "I had my driver take me back after we dropped you off so I could pick it up. Not my most efficient moment."
"You left your motorcycle on the street so you could ride home with me?"
"I wanted to spend more time with you," Julian said simply. "The bike was a practical consideration. You were… well, you’re everything."
I felt warmth spread through my chest at his honesty. "You looked incredibly sexy walking up like that, with your suit and helmet," I admitted. "I thought you might be some dangerous stranger at first, and then you took off the helmet and..." I trailed off, heat rising in my cheeks.
"And?" Julian prompted, moving closer.
"And I realized you were my dangerous stranger." I finished softly.
Julian was standing directly in front of me now, his eyes dark with something that made my pulse quicken. "Vivienne..."
I set down my coffee cup and stood, closing the distance between us. "Julian."
When he kissed me, it was with the pent-up intensity of someone who'd been holding back all morning. His hands framed my face, his mouth moving against mine with a hunger that made my knees weak. I responded with equal fervor, my arms winding around his neck, my body pressing against his.
"I've been wanting to do that since the moment you walked in," Julian murmured against my lips, his gloved hands sliding down to my waist.
"What took you so long?" I whispered back, and felt his smile against my mouth.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, and I could taste mint and something uniquely him.
When his hands found the hem of my sweater, his cool leather-covered fingers sliding against my lower back, I didn't protest, too lost in the sensation of his touch to think about where we were or who might walk in.
Julian's mouth moved to my throat, finding that sensitive spot that made me gasp and arch against him. His hands explored the curves he'd mapped so carefully with his measuring tape, but this time there was nothing clinical about his touch.
"God, you feel so good," he breathed against my skin, his gloved fingers tracing patterns that made me shiver with want.
My hands found the hem of his t-shirt, sliding underneath to feel the warm skin and lean muscle I remembered from our night together. Julian made a low sound in his throat, his body responding to my touch in ways that made me feel powerful and desired.
"Vivienne," he said, pulling back slightly to look at me. "If we don't stop now..."
"I know," I said breathlessly, my hands still exploring the planes of his chest. "I know we should stop."
But neither of us moved to break the contact. Julian's leather-covered thumb traced my lower lip, his eyes following the movement with fascination.
"You're making it very difficult to be professional," he said with a rueful smile.
"Good," I said, surprising both of us with my boldness. "I like knowing I affect you the same way you affect me."
Julian groaned softly, resting his forehead against mine. "You have no idea what you do to me."
We stood there for a moment, breathing hard, holding each other and fighting the urge to forget about everything else. But eventually, reality intruded in the form of voices outside the breakroom and the knowledge that Julian had a business to run and I had responsibilities waiting at home.
"I should probably get back out there," Julian said reluctantly.
"And I should probably head home soon," I said. "I have about sixty or so papers to grade before Monday, and if I don't start today, I'll be up all night tomorrow finishing them."
Julian pulled back to study my face. "Papers are more important than photo shoots?"
"My job is important to me," I said simply. "If this, whatever this is between us, is going to work, you need to understand that I have responsibilities that matter to me just as much as your work matters to you."
Something shifted in Julian's expression, a deepening respect that made me feel seen in an entirely new way. "You're right. I'm sorry if I implied otherwise."
"You didn't," I assured him. "But I need you to know that I'm not going to be available every time you have a free moment. I have a life, a career, commitments that exist independently of you."
"And that's part of what makes you extraordinary," Julian said quietly. "You're not waiting around for me to give your life meaning. You have your own purpose, your own passions."
I felt my heart skip at his words. This was exactly what I'd needed to hear—that he saw me as a complete person, not just an accessory to his world.
"So," Julian said, his hands still resting on my waist, "What would work for your schedule? When can I see you again?"
"Tomorrow is out, I'll be grading papers all day. But what about Monday evening?" I felt nervous making the suggestion, worried it might seem too forward.
"Monday evening sounds perfect," Julian said, his smile warm and genuine. "Actually, I have a question for you. Have you ever been on a motorcycle?"
My eyes widened. "Never. Why?"
"Because I'd love to take you on your first ride," Julian said. "If you're interested. It's one of my favorite ways to see the city, especially at sunset."
The thought of being on a motorcycle with Julian, my arms around him, the city rushing by—it was thrilling and terrifying in equal measure.
"I'd love that," I said, meaning it completely.
"Good. I'll pick you up at six? We can ride for a while, then have dinner somewhere quiet."
"That sounds wonderful."
Julian kissed me again, soft and sweet this time, a promise of Monday evening and everything it might bring. When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine again.
"Vivienne," he said quietly, "I need you to know that this isn't casual for me. What's happening between us… it matters."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "It matters to me too."
"Good," Julian said, relief evident in his voice. "Because I'd like this to be official. I'd like you to be my girlfriend, if you want that."
The word 'girlfriend' sent a thrill through me that I couldn't suppress. "I'd like that very much."
Julian's smile was brilliant, transforming his entire face. "Then it's official."
He kissed me once more, quick and celebratory, before reluctantly stepping back. "I really do need to get back to the shoot."
"And I really do need to grade papers," I said, though I made no move toward the door.
"Monday," Julian said firmly. "Six o'clock. Motorcycle ride and dinner with my girlfriend."
"Monday," I agreed, loving the way the word 'girlfriend' sounded in his voice.
As we walked back toward the main studio together, I felt like something fundamental had shifted between us. We were no longer two people figuring out an attraction—we were a couple, officially, with plans and promises and a future that extended beyond the next few hours.
At the edge of the studio chaos, Julian turned to me one more time. "Are you sure you don't want to try modeling that one shot? The offer still stands."
I looked out at the bustling activity, at the professional models and photographers and all the equipment, and shook my head with a smile. "Maybe next time. Today I'm just happy to be here, getting a chance to watch you work."
"Next time," Julian agreed, and the promise in those words made me believe there would be many next times, many opportunities to discover new facets of each other's worlds.
As I prepared to leave, Julian caught my hand.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "For being here, for your insights about the shoot, for handling that situation with Delaney. You made today better."
"Thank you for including me," I replied. "For trusting me with this part of your world."
We parted with the knowledge that Monday couldn't come soon enough, and as I settled into my car for the ride home, I felt like I was floating.
I had a boyfriend. An official, motorcycle-riding, incredibly talented boyfriend who valued my mind as much as my body, who respected my work and my independence.
And on Monday, I was going to get on a motorcycle for the first time in my life.
The thought terrified and thrilled me in equal measure, which, I was beginning to realize, perfectly summed up everything about being with Julian Thorne.