The Allure of Julian Lefray (The Allure #1)(5)

“How long ago did you start your blog?” she asked as we settled across from each other at the table.

“It’s been five years.” I inwardly cringed as I thought about her going back to read my very first posts. “But those first few years were rough. I was just starting college at the time.”

“NYU?”

“Um, no,” I corrected. “A small fashion school in Texas.”

She smiled, and I hurried to change the topic away from the fact that my degree wasn’t from a prestigious New York fashion school.

“I’m sorry, but may I ask how you even happened upon my blog in the first place?” I asked before taking a small sip of champagne.

She smiled wider, but before she could respond, a pair of dress shoes hit the marbled floor right behind me and I caught the scent of spiced cologne. There was a hint of fresh citrus with a unique blend of cinnamon and geranium. The combination was intoxicating.

“Ah, there you are Maxine,” a deep voice said behind me.

Six of the sexiest syllables I’d ever heard gave me no choice but to turn and put a face to the voice. I shifted to look over my shoulder, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, and then openly gaped as I came face to face with the handsome stranger from earlier.

His eyes shifted to me and he nodded, the tip of his mouth lifting in a silent acknowledgment that he recognized me as well.

“Julian! I wasn’t sure if you’d make it. I’d assumed things were too hectic with your family right now.”

“It was a last minute decision. You know how I like to fly by the seat of my pants.”

If I was a provocative temptress from a James Bond movie, I’d have picked up my champagne, held his eye as I took a sip, and then seductively whispered, “Is there room for two on that flight in your pants?” or y’know, something equally as seductive. But since I am Josephine, weird-girl-from-the-country, I stayed silent and took another sip of champagne.

Maxine cleared her throat and then held her hand out in introduction.

“Josephine, this is Julian Lefray.”

My eyes widened in shock as I fought to keep from choking on my champagne.

Julian Lefray. Julian Lefray, as in the brother to Lorena Lefray, the designer I’d submitted a resume to just that afternoon. He was the silent partner of her brand, heir to his family’s old-money fortune, and apparently keeper of all my hopes and dreams.

I pulled it together and held out my hand.

“You look nothing like your sister,” I noted, trying to reconcile the fact that they were related. Lorena was a lithe, pale woman, all skin and bones. Julian was…the polar opposite: tall and tan, with a captivating smile and those bright, hazel eyes.

“I got more of the Spanish blood,” he said as he took my hand. “She took after our mother.”

I nodded as I let his strong grip encase my hand. His touch was hard to reconcile, and for a moment, I glanced down at where our hands met, surprised by the connection.

“Do you have a last name Josephine?” he asked as he dropped my hand. I gripped my fist after losing contact with him, trying to maintain the fading warmth in my palm for as long as possible.

“Keller.”

“Josephine Keller,” he repeated, testing it out on his tongue. “Well, it has been a pleasure.” He motioned around the room. “Unfortunately, I have to keep making the rounds.”

To his credit, he didn’t look too pleased about it, but before I could come up with a reply, he excused himself to greet other party guests. I was left staring out after him, trying to understand how someone could possibly be that gorgeous.

“He’s quite a lot to take in, no?” Maxine asked once we were alone again.

I laughed and brushed off her question, careful to keep my silly feelings under wraps.

“So anyway, I believe you were saying something about how awesome my blog is…” I joked, letting the laughter rescue me from the ether of Julian’s presence.

It wasn’t until I was in the bathroom later, fixing my red lipstick, that I realized my mistake. I’d had Julian Lefray right in front of me and I hadn’t even mentioned my desire to work for his sister. He probably didn’t have much say in the hiring process, but I’d been a fool not to mention it. Wasn’t this how it worked? Insider jobs were given to people willing to go the extra mile, to put themselves out there.

I clasped my clutch and evaluated my look. The rented gown had only been available in a size smaller than I normally wore, which meant my chest was a bit more on display than I would have preferred. Thanks a lot for the boobs, Mom. I pulled up the strapless bodice and tried in vain to hide a bit of my cleavage. Yeah. Nope. Not happening. They had minds of their own.

I blew out a puff of air, checked that I didn’t have any red lipstick staining my teeth, and then finally exited the restroom.

After a few minutes of searching, I finally spotted Julian in the middle of a discussion with a group of men near the bar. They were older, with thick beards and hard lines across their foreheads. They looked like a stock photo of investment firm big wigs, but I couldn’t let that stop me. I just needed a moment to speak with Julian.

I subdued my nerves and waltzed up to the group. I inhaled his cologne as I stepped close; it was just as captivating as the first time. He was in the middle of a conversation, but I didn’t want to take the chance that I’d lose him again. I ignored the curious stares from the other men in his group and cleared my throat.