Chapter Four Julia #2
“Filthy rich? The heir to a billion-dollar corporate empire, or at least one of the heirs? Yes, and yes.” Dylan drained his glass and set it down with a resounding thunk. “Harry is one of the few Ellenes who refuse to work at the family business.”
Julia stared at her boyfriend. His jaw was clenched, an angry vein pulsing in his temple. But what right did he have to be angry, when he’d kept something like this from her? It was a pretty major secret to conceal from the person you loved.
Harry was an Ellene. He was one of them—the rich people she dealt with on VIP tours—or worse, like Preston.
Actually, Harry was richer than Preston, and he was certainly richer than the people she took on tours. His family didn’t go on cruises; they owned an entire fleet of cruise ships.
Julia said, her voice very quiet, “I used to work at TWL. On the cruise line.”
“Really? Which cruise?” Dylan asked, but Julia’s eyes were fixed on Harry. His face had twisted into a mask of contrition.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to—”
“You knew,” she interrupted. “You listened to endless stories about my time on that boat, and you never thought to mention that your family owned it? That your father was my boss’s boss’s boss?”
“I think you’re missing a few bosses in the middle there,” Dylan said cheerfully. “Corporate bureaucracy and all.”
Harry and Julia both ignored him.
“I’m sorry, Jules! I should have told you who I really was. But when we met that night, I never imagined that it would go this far,” Harry said urgently.
Dylan reached across the bar for the champagne bottle and topped off all their glasses, then stood. “I should probably, um…Julia, it was a pleasure meeting you. Harry…” After an awkward pause, he started off, still clutching his full glass of champagne.
When his cousin’s steps had receded, Harry reached for Julia’s hand.
She tugged it away. “Harry, this was a big thing to lie about.”
“I know you won’t get it, but my family isn’t like yours.
I needed to separate myself from them, after—after what happened,” he fumbled.
“Coming to New Zealand and living as someone else, it was all so liberating. I’ve gotten to meet people on my own terms, without the complications of being an Ellene. ”
“I’m glad you had so much fun playacting at being poor.”
He winced. “Julia, I wasn’t trying to play at anything. I just love the person I am when I’m with you. That’s the real me, not the person I used to be, with my family.” He reached for her hand again. “Please, forgive me?”
Julia stared at the handsome lines of his face. It struck her that no matter how well she thought she knew him, there were vast stretches of Harry’s past that would remain locked to her. She would only ever see the parts of him that he showed her.
But then, she hadn’t shared her entire history, either. Harry didn’t know about her relationship with Preston. He didn’t know what had happened that awful night twenty years ago. Those memories were so painful that Julia had locked them away, even from herself.
“I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me the truth,” she said quietly.
“Of course I trust you! It’s my family I don’t trust,” Harry hurried to interject. “Or maybe…maybe I don’t completely trust myself.”
Julia laid her hand atop Harry’s on the counter. As always, even a slight bit of physical contact sent a shiver down her spine.
Harry wrapped her hand in his, closing his eyes. “Please, Jules. I would never forgive myself if my family came between us.”
Julia didn’t know how to reply, so she just sat there, absorbing the revelations of the past ten minutes. After a moment, a strangled laugh escaped her chest.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“I just…” The laughter was bubbling out of her harder now. “I can’t believe you’re an Ellene, and you still agreed to live in that apartment with me! We don’t even have a washing machine!”
“Is that supposed to be a drawback? I don’t really enjoy doing laundry,” Harry said equably.
“You eat boxed ramen—”
“I love ramen!”
“You made me pay you back that time you bought tickets to the local winemakers’ festival!”
He looked a bit sheepish. “Sorry. I should have treated you to that one. I was just trying to be believable as, you know…”
“As an ordinary person?” She shook her head, still smiling. “I think you owe me for that ticket. Fair warning, my interest rates are steep.”
They were quiet for a long moment, both sipping their champagne, grateful to no longer be fighting.
“What was Dylan talking about when he said your family is getting together next month?” Julia asked after a beat. “Is it a wedding?”
“More like a family reunion. But I’m not going,” Harry said quickly.
“Why not? I want to meet your family.”
“I promise, you really don’t.”
Julia started to protest, only to fall silent at something in Harry’s expression. She could let it go, at least for tonight. Might as well salvage what was left of their anniversary.
She shifted on the bar stool so that she was fully facing Harry, her eyes roving over his handsome features: his chiseled jawline, his striking blue-gray eyes, the light brown hair that curled around his ears.
After two years together, she felt like Harry’s face was as familiar as her own reflection.
And yet the whole time it had belonged to someone who had lied about his name.
Who was, apparently, worth millions. The thought was dizzying and slightly terrifying.
“I love you,” Harry said again, as if he sensed her uncertainty.
Julia leaned in to brush a quick kiss over his lips. There would be time for questions later—and she had so many of them. “I love you, too. Happy anniversary.”