20. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
JULIAN
The moment I established myself as a serious artist—which was no easy feat—I created a foundation for myself in the world.
Growing up, I never had a stable home environment.
The very prospect of stability and the hope of having my own people drove me forward in life.
As time passed, that prospect started to feel more like a dream I may never achieve.
I have most of what I’ve wanted for myself; everything my mother wanted for me.
There’s still a part of me that will never get used to this life. My past will always press a daunting weight on my shoulders. No matter what or how hard I try to push it all away, I’m still the little boy laid out on the floor with stars dancing around his head.
Typically, the busier I stay, the more bearable the pain is. It’s strange, but lately, I find that the silence isn’t so bad if Andrea’s standing in it with me. If I were someone else, that might be comforting, but to me, it sets off warning bells that tell me not to get attached.
Andrea has a way of keeping me sane and the reminder that she’ll be with me tonight has a wave of relief coursing through me. My mind and my body are on different pages, which makes my walls weaken and in turn, allows her the opportunity to do some damage if she pleases .
It’s not a good sign on my part. If there’s one thing I’ve learned lately, it’s that I need to learn to keep certain thoughts to myself; especially the ones that arrive cryptic as fuck. I don’t know what these emotions mean yet, so the best thing to do is say nothing.
Taking a breath, I adjust the cuff links of my classic black Dior suit, paired with Oxfords.
Once I’m satisfied with my appearance, I continue gazing over the city and lift my glass of Macallan off the bar cart.
It does a wonderful job of replacing the bitter taste the thought of my past has left behind.
After I arrived home, I was going to check in with Andrea and see how shopping went, but when I walked by her bedroom door, I heard another female voice. I left them alone so she could get ready. I’ve only been waiting thirty minutes before I hear her bedroom door open.
My body tenses as if bracing for an impact.
The sound of heels clicking against the wood floors grows closer. I turn around at the same moment she appears, and I think that my body knew before my brain that I’d lose my breath.
“Does this look okay?” she asks quietly, approaching me slowly. She chews on her bottom lip, staring at me with a childlike uncertainty in her eyes.
It’s more than okay. She’s ravishing and my mouth goes dry as I take her in. Her hair is in a slick ponytail curled in soft waves. She wears smokey eyeshadow, but nothing too over the top, and a green gown enhances the soft color of her eyes.
Andrea Sommers is a walking sin—a forbidden fruit.
I’m not sure how I’ll be able to focus on anything else tonight. I grit my teeth, feeling a flush of arousal and protectiveness come over me. I know the type of men that attend these events. I’m prepared to swat hands all night and if it’s necessary—completely necessary—I’ll start breaking bones.
“You’re perfect,” I say and by some miracle, I manage to not start drooling when she flashes me a smile worth more than all my paintings combined.
She accepts the compliment with grace, and her unsureness slips away. “Well, you don’t look too shabby yourself.”
I chuckle. “I’m glad you approve.” I take a sip of my drink, and she eyes the glass.
Jutting out her chin, she asks, “Drinking all your worries away?”
The corner of my mouth curves. “Something like that.”
“Do you mind?”
It takes me longer than it should to realize she wants to try it. “Not at all,” I say, handing over the glass. I don’t expect her to sling it back and I’m already grimacing for her.
She immediately breaks into a coughing fit, shoving the empty glass into my chest. “ Jesus ,” she wheezes.
I take the glass and set it down on the bar cart. I reach over to rub her back. “That’s whiskey, ma cerise.”
“Ma, what?” she asks, brows drawn in confusion.
My stomach tightens as I realize what I’ve said, but thankfully we’re interrupted before I can respond.
“And he speaks French.” Removing my hand from Andrea, I turn to find the voice belonging to a blue-haired woman.
She extends her hand toward mine to shake it.
She openly checks me out as I accept her hand.
“You are. . .excellent,” she says appreciatively.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Andrea rolling her eyes.
When she finally frees my hand, I shove it into my pocket .
“It’s nice to meet you. . .” I trail off, fishing for her name.
She frowns slightly, side-eyeing her friend. “Maisie Dupont.”
Andrea whistles beside me, nudging me with her elbow. “You totally just killed her ego.”
Maisie nods in agreement, but shrugs. “I needed that.”
My brows cast downward as I glance between them. “I’m sorry if I—”
“Don’t worry about it.” She waves a hand through the air. “You’re too beautiful to hate.”
She does look familiar now that I’m really looking at her, though I can’t place where I’ve seen her before. “I’m Julian Hav—”
“I know who you are,” she states and then eyes Andrea and me side by side. “You two do make a handsome pair.”
“Maisie,” Andrea warns, and I know that I’m missing something.
Ignoring her, she says, “I wonder what your babies will look like.”
My eyes widen and beside me, Andrea puts her head into her hands and mutters to herself. A wicked gleam enters her eyes. “How’s the sex?” she asks, wagging her eyebrows.
“Maisie!” Andrea turns to face me with an apologetic expression. “She knows.”
“Ah.” My head tips back slightly in understanding and I smile in amusement.
Maisie makes a show of zipping her mouth shut. “My lips are sealed,” she quips and then leans in to whisper. “That is, unless you prefer them open.”
Fucking hell.
Before I can think of what to say to that, Andrea is slapping her friend on the arm. “Maisie, you heathen! Don’t make me throw my stiletto at your head. ”
She points at Andrea’s feet. “You do that, and I’ll binge-watch The First 48 without you.”
I stare at the two of them in fascination. Even as Andrea gasps in horror, I want to laugh. I can tell at this moment they’re best friends, the very rare kind.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Maisie’s eyebrows lift as she nods. “I would.”
Andrea looks at me, crossing her arms. “Make her leave.”
Not having enough willpower to deny her, I’m opening my mouth to do just that when she beats me to it.
“Lucky for you, I’m on my way out, anyway.” Maisie turns to leave and as she does, my memory comes back and a wince-worthy recognition kicks in.
“Hey, wait,” I call out to her, and she stops in the foyer, turning to face us. “It was Midnight Rainbows, wasn’t it?” I ask, naming the movie.
She tosses me a pleased smile. “You dig me in it?”
I glance over at Andrea and then back to Maisie. “It’s Carter’s favorite movie.”
An emotion flickers across her face. “Is that right?”
“Oh no,” Andrea says under her breath.
I nod and I know I shouldn’t tell her what I’m about to say because Carter is going to kill me, but this will make us even. “He calls it his lucky charm whenever he brings a woman to his place.”
Her mouth falls open and then she bursts into delighted laughter. “I’m his fluffer ? Oh, this is rich.” She winks at me. “Points for you, art boy.”
And then she’s gone, the door clicking shut behind her.
“You do realize what you just did, don’t you? ”
The corner of my mouth lifts as I stare down at Andrea. “I do.”
She sighs. “Poor Carter. She’s going to have a field day with this one.”