The Allure of Julian Lefray (The Allure #1)(17)

“Did that woman outside think that you were a prostitute?” Julian yelled through his door.

I smiled. “Yeah, is she used to a parade of them lined up for room 3002?”

“Ha ha. Sadly, my only visitor is Gary from room service.”

I smiled as I stepped toward the window to admire his view.

“Okay, so I suppose I just look the part,” I joked as the door to his room swung open.

He stepped out wearing gray slacks and a crisp white button-down. He was still finishing buttoning his shirt, so I was momentarily graced with one last glimpse of his chest. Buff—check. Tan—check. Just a sprinkling of chest hair that made my mouth water—check.

I glanced up to see him eyeing me with curiosity. He’d shaved away the stubble I’d grown familiar with the day before and had taken the time to style his hair after he’d gotten dressed. He looked like a consummate business man. Too bad the rest of him didn’t fit the bill. He’d developed a tan from our time spent outdoors while looking at properties, which only made his features more appealing. He had a devious glint in his eye as he inspected me from across the room, but I captured my thoughts and pushed them away before my silence became too noticeable.

Julian laughed. “Between you and my sister, I don’t think I can handle any more women in my life at the moment.”

I sat down on the couch and pulled out my laptop.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he said, meeting my eye for a moment before picking up the hotel phone. “Have you eaten already?”

“Some toast before I left the house.”

“What an inspired meal,” he said sarcastically, just as a voice on the other end of the line picked up.

“Hey!” I argued, trying to defend my love of toast, but he held up his hand to silence me with a smile.

“This is Julian Lefray in suite 3002. I’d like to place an order for French toast with a side of sausage.”

“Oh gross. Everyone knows bacon is better than sausage,” I whispered over the back of the couch.

“And a side of bacon,” he said with a touch of amusement in his voice. He held his hand over the receiver and turned to me. “How do you prefer your coffee?”

“With a splash of almond milk, please.”

“Yes. Two cups of coffee, and could you bring some almond milk on the side? That will be all. Thank you.”

He dropped the phone back onto the receiver and I stared down at my laptop as I typed in my password.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught his bare feet and smiled. He’d styled his hair, shaved, and put on business attire, but apparently wearing shoes was asking too much.

“I figured if I’m going to force you to work in a hotel room, the least I can do is feed you,” he said, grabbing his laptop from his desk and joining me in the suite’s living room. There were two small couches that faced each other and a modern armchair that looked about as comfortable as a rock. He picked the couch across from me and met my eye.

“Will this do?” he asked, his tone a bit more vulnerable than I was used to.

Sure the situation was unorthodox and I’d just seen my boss in nothing but a towel, but nothing with Julian seemed awkward or strained. Working across from him and joking about whether he employed any ladies of the night seemed like normal water cooler talk.

I smiled up at him. “Perfect,” I said, looking to see if my laptop was finished booting up yet. It needed another few minutes.

“Now tell me how your boys’ night went before you make me get to work.”

He glanced up at me. “Oh! That reminds me.”

I tilted my head and waited for him to continue.

“I have an unusual request,” he said with a nervous smile.

“Oh?” I asked, my interest already piqued.

His stare met mine and he hesitated for a moment as if determining whether or not he wanted to continue.

“How do you feel about ribbon cuttings?”





Chapter Eleven


Julian





In truth, I already knew that my feelings for Josephine weren’t 100% platonic; the memory of her figure in that red gown from the gala had ensured that. She had curves and grace, such a classically beautiful face that over the last week, I found myself trying to memorize every detail. Despite all of that, she was also down to earth and humble, a contradiction that made me wonder if she knew her effect on men or if she’d somehow skated through life without yet realizing it.

I told myself I noticed these details and thought about her beauty not because I wanted to sleep with her, but because she and I had become friends. Besides Lorena and Dean, Josephine was my only friend in New York. Plus, after only a week of working with her, I was fairly certain that out of everyone, I enjoyed her company most of all.

She was smart and witty, different than the women I’d surrounded myself with in Boston. My life there was cold, a boring routine I’d tried to think of as something more. I hadn’t realized it at the time, but there was definitely an emptiness in my life there. Yes, I’d achieved quite a lot: I had an investment portfolio that guaranteed I didn’t need to work another day in my life, three cars, and a house in the most expensive part of the city, but then I thought of Josephine’s smile, and everything I’d built before just seemed…hollow.