The Allure of Julian Lefray (The Allure #1)(13)

A moment later, a “recovery and wellness concierge” popped her head in and smiled. “The group activity is starting in the main room in fifteen minutes. We’ll be screening Sixteen Candles while lighting sixteen lamps filled with different aromatherapy oils.”

She smiled and closed the door after her announcement and Lorena’s eyes widened in horror. “Do you see what I mean? They’re poisoning me with cheesy 80s movies and yucky lettuce.”

I laughed and stood to leave. My baby sister had made her bed of kale, and now she had to lie in it.





Chapter Eight


Josephine





I’d just finished shoving the last bite of a donut in my mouth when my phone buzzed in my hand. I wiped the chocolate icing from my mouth and discarded the donut box in the trash. I took extra care to get rid of all the evidence of the sweet doughy deliciousness because that’s how denial works. No proof, no calories. Ha!

After I wiped my hands, I swiped my finger across the screen and answered the call.

“Hello?” Yeah, my mouth was still pretty full. Attractive, I know.

“Josephine?”

The deep voice sent a slight shiver down my spine. I swallowed slowly.

“Julian?” I asked, pulling the phone away from my cheek to check the number. I didn’t recognize the area code.

“Yes. Sorry to call you so early. I just wanted to let you know that we won’t be meeting at my hotel like we originally planned.”

“Oh.”

I sounded sad. Why did I sound sad? Had I been looking forward to seeing the inside of Julian’s hotel room? Had I wanted some alone time with him?

“Is that all right?” he asked, sounding worried.

“Oh! Yeah. Of course. Where are we meeting instead?”

“My realtor has lined up a few properties for us to take a look at. I’ll text you the first address after we hang up.”

“Okay, cool. I love looking at real estate.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

I laughed. “I’m borderline addicted to HGTV. It’s not healthy.”

“Ah, I see. Well, we’ll be going into some unfinished job sites, so make sure you wear closed-toe shoes.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll dress the part,” I quipped.

“Are you getting ready as we talk? I’m already on my way to the first address.”

Oh crap. “Let me go so I can map it.”

“All right. Good luck.”

I dropped my phone and scrambled to finish getting ready. Last night Julian had emailed me a few details about my first day on the job. I’d planned on meeting him at his hotel—where we’d be working until we found a space to rent in Manhattan—but if we were going to be running around town all day, I needed to change my shoes. My feet would be screaming by the second listing.

I slid into some black leather flats and peeked at the mirror before dashing out the door. A stray chocolate sprinkle was lurking in the corner of my mouth from the donut I had allegedly eaten a minute before. I wiped it away and reassessed my makeup. Not bad. Not bad at all.

It was warming up nicely in New York City, but there was still a morning chill lingering in the air, so I walked to the first listing instead of taking the subway.

Julian was standing near the entrance of the building, chatting with a short, balding man in a three-piece suit. The man had on a blue paisley tie that coordinated with his pocket square and a Bluetooth thing sticking out of his right ear. Ah, he was definitely the realtor.

“Josephine,” Julian said with a smile as I approached.

I scanned over his outfit quickly, pushing away the swell of lust that accompanied the sight of him. Black slacks—not cute. White button-down—not cute. Fitted black jacket—ew. Who thinks defined arms and a broad chest are attractive? No one.

He reached forward and gripped my arm just above my elbow as he leaned in to kiss my cheek. JESUS CHRIST. He smelled divine, like he’d spent the morning in the woods building me a log cabin. I hated him.

When he pulled back after our kiss, he kept his hand on my arm and introduced me to Sergio, our realtor. Taking it as a cue, Sergio leaned in to kiss my other cheek. I flinched, and my nose knocked his earpiece to the ground.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, let me get that!” I sang, trying to allay the awkwardness.

I bent to grab it before either of them could get it, then handed it to Sergio with an apologetic smile.

“Let me just grab the key from the lockbox and then we’ll head inside,” Sergio explained.

I nodded and wet my lips, trying hard to work up the nerve to glance at Julian. I’d felt so confident during our phone call, but in person my courage dwindled away as if it’d never been there at all.

“No overalls? I’m a little disappointed,” Julian quipped as he turned toward me.

I laughed and glanced down at my outfit. He read that blog post!

“I figured overalls were more of a second-day-on-the-job kind of look,” I said with a smile.

Julian laughed. “What’s a third-day-on-the-job look then?”

“Jorts.”

He laughed, but furrowed his brows. “Jorts?”

My smile fell. “Oh c’mon. You don’t know what jorts are?”