“Okay.” I’m breathless, almost dizzy.
“I want you to meet someone.”
“Meet… someone?”
“You’ll see.” He smirks at me and walks away.
I’m left there, next to the huge painting, heart hammering in my chest.
I don’t know what just happened. I mean, I guess I know what happened, but… I don’t know what it means.
I kissed Julian. I kissed my boss, my dad’s friend, a man twice my age.
And now he wants me to meet someone?
I head back to my desk in a daze, not sure what’s coming next.4JulianI cover shrimp with garlic and olive oil before tossing it on a pan. It sizzles and fills my penthouse with the smell of cooking.
I’m smiling to myself, practically humming and buzzing, when I hear my intercom buzz. I wipe my hands and walk over, pressing the green button.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Hi, uh, Julian. It’s Avery.”
“Come on up.”
I buzz her inside. She’ll have to ride the elevator up to my apartment. I enter the code that’ll allow her to select my floor, and the elevator doors will open right into my apartment.
I didn’t plan on doing this. I was having this dinner here no matter what tonight, and I never intended to bring Avery along.
But I couldn’t help myself. I had to kiss her earlier today and now I need to see her again. Maybe it’s not exactly the situation I wanted, but she might actually be useful tonight.
Avery comes in a few minutes later. She’s wearing dark jeans, a white top, and a light blue button-down over it. Her hair is full and down, thick around her shoulders, and I’m tempted to grab it again like I did earlier today.
“Glad you came,” I say, kissing her on the cheek.
She’s already blushing. “When my boss invites me to dinner, I always say yes.”
I laugh. “I’m not really your boss tonight.”
“Is this a business thing?”
I hesitate. “Sort of.”
“You said you wanted me to meet someone.”
“Come on. I’ll tell you about it.”
She follows me into the kitchen, and I flip the shrimp. She takes a seat at the island and I pour her a glass of wine.
“Nice place,” she says.
“Thanks.”
“How long have you lived here?”
I hesitate a second. “Over ten years now.”
“Wow. So this is, like, your home.”
“Pretty much.”
“Have you always been in the city?”
“I lived in London for a bit. Prague for a bit. But mostly Philadelphia.”
“Prague? Really?”
“Sure.” I laugh a little bit. “That was a stupid idea. I lasted like six months before I came crawling back to the States.”
“Must have been cool, living in a totally different country.”
“More lonely than cool,” I admit. “I didn’t speak the language and I had trouble picking it up.”
“Ah. That sucks.”
“Yeah. Well, I was a younger man back then.”
She nods and sips her wine as I check on the shrimp. It’s finished, so I take it from the pan, set it aside, and start on the pasta. The salad is finished and ready, and I have some tomato, basil, and mozzarella to pick at.
“So, who am I meeting tonight?” she asks me.
“You’re meeting Haylee Price.”
She frowns a little bit. “Why do I know that name?”
“She wrote the Angel Darkness series.”
Avery’s eyes go wide. “No way.”
“Sure. It was a big self-publishing hit, or so I hear.”
“I read those books.”
I grin at her. “I thought you might have.”
“I mean, seriously. I loved them. I didn’t… you’re publishing her?”
“Trying to,” I admit. “It won’t be easy to convince her. I thought you might be able to help.”
I stare at him like he’s insane. I loved the Angel Darkness series, and actually just finished the last book a few weeks ago. The characters are still fresh in my mind, and now I’m going to try to convince the author to work with us?
“No way,” I say.
“What?”
“No way,” I repeat. “I can’t.”
“You definitely can.”
“No, really. I mean, I don’t know what to say.”
I look at her and smirk. “Just tell her the truth. You love the books, right?”
“Right, but—”
“Just say that.”
She gapes at me. “Julian—”
“Avery,” I say over her protestations. “Listen to me. You said you’d do whatever I ask, didn’t you?”
She clenches her jaw. “Yes,” she says.
“Okay, good. So you’ll do this. Meet with Haylee, eat dinner, smile, make nice. It won’t be so bad.”
She takes a breath and slowly lets it out. “Okay, fine.”
The intercom buzzes a second later and I laugh a little. “Perfect timing,” I say.
Avery’s eyes go wide. “She’s here? Already?”
I ignore the question and walk over to my intercom. I buzz Haylee inside and enter my code. A few minutes later, the doors open, and she steps into the room.
Haylee is a few years older than Avery, with light blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. She’s wearing a baggy sweater and tight jeans with ratty old sneakers. She looks like she just rolled out of bed, which, maybe she really did.