Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I blink, and blink again. I wonder if I just imagined what Jules just said.
“I think it’s just… I don’t want any chinks in my armor when I see her. I don’t want her to be able to point to anything in my life and say, ‘I did better than you.’”
“I vote for my theory,” she says. “Either way, I’m right there by your side. And I’m going to Bergdorf’s this week to buy something that will make her look like she’s wearing the housekeeping uniform from The Mayfair.”
She sounds like she’s coaching me back into the boxing ring. The corner of my mouth turns up. Right here, right now, Jules Moore might be my favorite person on the planet.
“Whatever you wear, you’ll outshine her.”
“What about the pantsuit I wore when I was your assistant?”
“Oh, your asshole-repelling outfit?” I shrug. “Never worked on me.”
“It kinda did,” she says. “It’s not like you ever made a pass at me.”
“Because you worked for me, not because I didn’t find you attractive.”
She shrugs. She clearly thinks I’m lying. “If you say so.”
“I say so. I have a strict policy of not dating women I work with. So yes, I tuned out that side of you.”
She starts to laugh. “You tuned me out?” She wrinkles her nose and brings up her shoulders as if she’s hugging a teddy bear or something. “You say the cutest things to me.”
“What are fiancés for?” I ask. There’s no way I’m getting out of this hole. The only thing I can do is stop digging.
The fact is, I’m tuned all the way into Jules Moore, no matter how she’s dressed.
SEVENTEEN
Leo
Despite having to share air with Caroline Hammond, I had a great night tonight. I follow Jules out of the restaurant, enjoying the sight of her as I do. As soon as we get outside, she stops and turns so suddenly, I almost run into her.
“Can I suggest something?” she asks, her eyes full of mischief.
“What?” I ask.
“Promise you’ll say yes?”
Her smile is infectious and I can’t help but grin back. God only knows what she’s up to. But right now, I don’t care. I want to be carried along by her enthusiasm. “Okay, I promise.”
She grabs my arm and squeezes me, like I just told her the manager job at The Mayfair is hers permanently. “Tell your driver to meet us in a couple of blocks. Let’s walk for as long as these shoes will let me. I love these late summer nights. We haven’t got many left.”
I chuckle. She gets an unrestricted promise from me and walking home is what she asks for?
Just as I press send on a text to my driver, asking him to follow us in the car, a boom of thunder sounds above us.
Jules’ eyes widen and she bursts out laughing. “Looks like we’re getting wet.”
I expect her to change her mind about the walk, but she just slides her hand into mine and we begin to stroll. It’s late, but New York doesn’t want to sleep tonight. There are people everywhere and the traffic is rush-hour heavy. Quarter-sized drops splat onto the pavement as we head west. I peek up at the sky, wondering how quickly we’re likely to be drenched.
“Why don’t we just drive with the windows down?” I suggest.
“Because we’ll be home too quickly and I’m not ready for tonight to end.”
Something pulls in my gut. I’m not sure if it’s because Jules just called my place home or because she wants tonight to continue some more. Maybe it’s because I feel the same way.
“We can do a circuit of the park,” I suggest.
She grins and her eyelashes flutter away the rain. “You promise we can keep the windows down?”
I nod and put a hand out to my driver, who’s just behind us.
As soon as we slide into the car, Jules lets down her window and glances as me. “Come on,” she says. “We need New York turned up to full volume tonight.” It’s exactly how I felt when New River’s first fix was complete. This is a city of so many possibilities. We just have to open our arms.
I stare at her, completely unable to reconcile the grumpy assistant she was in my office with the fresh, light, complex woman sitting next to me.
“A promise is a promise,” she says, reaching across me to hit the button that lowers the window. Our faces are so close now; she looks up at me, smiling, and all I can think about is how beautiful she is. I catch her wrist and I let the window down myself, but I don’t release her or take my eyes from her.
The light must change because the car jolts and Jules gets pushed even closer to me, her arms on my chest, her lips an inch from mine.