15. Jules #2
As Ash is introducing me to someone he works with at the gallery, I glance around for Drew.
I’m sure he’s having a terrible time, especially since he doesn’t know anyone here.
I’m surprised to find him talking to a woman.
She’s tall, with honey colored hair and golden skin.
She looks ethereal, and Drew seems to be enjoying himself.
I’m worried about nothing.
“What do you do, Juliet?”
I turn back to Ash’s friend, whose name I’ve already forgotten. Not that it’s worth remembering since the first thing he said when Ash introduced me is, “Your real name is Jules?”
And now he insists on calling me Juliet. The only person who calls me that is Drew.
“I host a podcast with my best friend,” I say. I hate answering this question, and not because it’s literally the most boring question you can ask someone. Since when did we, as a society, lower someone’s worth to what they do? Like if you’re not in a certain tax bracket, you’re not worthy.
“Not just any podcast,” Ash says. “Unscripted has millions of listeners. Oh, Remy’s calling me. Talk amongst yourself.”
Ash walks away, leaving me with what’s-his-name, it was T-something. Trevor? He looks like a Trevor.
“Ah, so what do you talk about on this podcast?” His tone drips with condescension, like the podcast is a little hobby.
“The podcast is unscripted. We talk about everything,” I say.
Trevor sips his champagne, humming softly. His eyes have that dull gleam which seems to suggest he’s already checked out of this conversation. Maybe he’s a great friend to Ash, but so far he’s been a really terrible conversation partner.
My eyes find Drew again and I see him leaning toward the woman he’s talking to, looking at something on her phone. Glad one of us is having a good time.
“Women stuff?” Trevor’s mouth twists into a condensing grin.
I blink at him, my mouth twisting. “Women stuff? You know, I’m glad men like you exist because it saves women the time and effort to find out if you’re an asshole since you wear it like a badge of honor.”
Trevor laughs like I’ve complimented him. His hand lands on my shoulder, slimy and wet. I shrug it off. I don’t like being touched as a general rule, and even less when it’s a man, especially when it’s a man I don’t know and who happens to hate women.
Trevor holds up his hands. “There’s no need to be upset. I just assumed you’d be the kind to make podcasts about women.”
“As a matter of fact, our podcast is about women, but there are people on this planet who see women’s issues as human issues, rather than gendered issues. Not people like you, of course. You’re the reason women’s issues exist.”
Trevor’s face goes from condescension to furious in a matter of seconds.
“Jesus, you don’t have to be such a b—”
“If you want to walk away with all your teeth intact, don’t complete that sentence.”
I glance up in surprise to see Drew standing beside me. When did he come over?
Trevor scoffs, rolling his eyes. “See, this is what I don’t understand. You talk about being independent as a woman and still need a man to come to your defense.”
“Buddy, I’m not even going to touch you,” Drew says. “But she’s going to leave your mangled, decimated carcass here for the birds to feed on.”
He takes one intimidating step closer and Trevor swallows, tilting his head back to maintain eye contact. “She doesn’t need me to defend her, I do it because I want to. I do it because I don’t want her to breathe the same air as assholes like you.”
I blink up at Drew, a little surprised by his words. This is the second time he’s come to my defense, and for a man who frequently talks death to me, he doesn’t hesitate to step in when someone is disrespecting me.
“Apologize to her,” Drew says, jaw tight. I’m sure I see a muscle pop.
I’ve never seen him this way and I’m not sure what to make of it. Especially because he’s this angry on my behalf.
“Fuck that, I’m not—” Trevor’s words cut off when Drew takes a menacing step closer toward him. He swallows, and the way his eyes widen, I think it finally occurs to him that he’s in danger of getting seriously hurt here.
“I won’t ask again.” Drew's voice is soft, but each word is sharp, the underlying threat ever apparent.
I should stop him. Right? If I was writing this situation, I’d make my heroine stop the hero because it’s just not worth it. It works in the context of the story because it’s a fictional world I’m creating. In real life? Hell nah, if it comes to it, I want Drew to pummel this man into the ground.
I’ve had enough of men and their audacity.
Trevor’s eyes shift to me. I can see how much he loathes submitting to the request.
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think so.” Drew shakes his head. “Say it again, and this time, with more sincerity and less condescension.”
Trevor takes a breath and I’m sure it costs him every little sliver of what’s left of his dignity to push out the words with utmost sincerity. “I’m sorry.”
Drew crosses his arms, looking less than pleased. “I’m not convinced, but I don’t want her standing near you any longer.” He turns to me, his eyes softening slightly, and nods toward the exit. “Let’s go.”
I stop by our table to pick my wrap before finding Ash and Remy. I hug them both and promise to call them while Drew hovers behind me. It’s gotten windy as the day shifts towards evening and I pull my wrap on as we start walking toward the hotel.
Drew walks beside me silently, and I glance up at him every so often. I can’t stop myself from noticing the scruff around jaw, the pout of his lips, the way his eyelashes are so long and thick.
“Thank you,” I say, when we’re close to the hotel.
I might be the only person who loves walking down Fifth Avenue. Yes, it’s a tourist trap. But I love the rush of people. Right now, I also love that I can pretend to focus on walking so I don’t have to look up at Drew as I feel his eyes on me.
“What for?” he asks.
“For rescuing me. Again.”
Drew scoffs. “You don’t need my rescue, and you don’t have to thank me.”
I open my mouth and he cuts me off. “Jules, you never have to thank me.”
Finally, I look up at him and find him staring at me. I can’t read the expression on his face, but it makes my stomach twist, not unpleasantly.
“You never have to thank me,” he says again.
The wind whips his hair, making pieces of it fall across his forehead so he looks like a romantic hero.
“I’m not going to stand by and let someone talk shit about you or touch you without your permission.
I don’t see it as rescuing you because as far as I know, you’re perfectly capable of rescuing yourself.
I’m just helping, and I’ll keep doing it.
I want you to tell me if someone is saying shit and I’ll take care of it.
And I don’t need you to thank me for it.
I’m not going to let someone hurt you, Juliet. ”
I didn’t know until now it’s possible to like someone you don’t really like. I mean, we’ve never gotten along even though I know Drew isn’t a bad person. The proof is right in front of my eyes. He fights with me and calls me crazy, but he also respects me as a person.
I want to tell him that he’s wrong. That I’m not capable of rescuing myself. I wasn’t when I needed to be. I want to tell him that he should have offered his help a long time ago. But that’s not his fault. I’m finally starting to accept it wasn’t my fault, either.
“I don’t know what to say, since you told me not to say thank you.” I shift on my feet, tucking my wrap closer around me.
The corner of Drew’s mouth tilts up into a smirk. “Just say you’ll think twice before killing me now.”
I laugh. “I’m not making any promises.”