Dating Games(61)

“You can just call me Evie. And yes.” I nod. “I did at one point.”

“I do, as well, but not like most people. I like to think soul mates can include more than just a romantic relationship. I truly believe Mr. Price and Mr. Gage were soul mates. They were both in need of a certain kind of companionship, and they found it in each other.” She clutches my hands in hers. “Julian hasn’t had the easiest life. There’s a darkness that continues to hang over him. Just… Be patient with him. He’ll come around.” She passes me a reassuring look before turning to walk out of the room.

“But I don’t want him to come around.” I spin to face her, then lower my voice. “This isn’t real.”

She glances over her shoulder, smiling. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, dear.”

I open my mouth, about to argue my point further, when Julian rounds the corner, coming to a stop the instant he sees me standing in front of the large windows overlooking the ocean. The two-day scruff he’s been sporting is gone, his face clean-shaven. His hair’s wayward in a sexy sort of way, curling slightly over the collar of his jacket. And his tux… It should be a crime for a man to look this exquisite without being naked. The lines accent his chiseled physique in a way that almost makes me never want to see him with his shirt off again.

Almost.

I’m not that much of a sadist.

I didn’t count on missing him as much as I did throughout the day. I shouldn’t have longed for his touch, craved his scent, considering the brush-off he gave me last night. I tried to blame it on the fact that I spent the afternoon at the spa with Sadie where we talked with a few other women about my whirlwind romance with Julian. Some of the women, whom I expected to greet me with cold shoulders and upturned noses, ended up gushing over what they viewed to be a real-life Cinderella story, one I could sense they secretly wished for themselves.

“Guinevere…,” Julian exhales, his gaze holding steady with mine, his pupils dilating. No one’s ever admired me the way Julian does, even when I’m dressed more casually. No one’s ever made me feel so beautiful.

Emboldened, I twirl, the layers of the skirt flaring around me as I show off for him.

“I stand corrected.”

I stop spinning. “Regarding?” I arch a brow.

With determination, he strides toward me. In an instant, his hand palms my lower back, pressing my body to his. I wonder if this is what Cinderella felt like. If she struggled against hope, knowing once the clock struck midnight she’d have to go back to her ordinary life. Just like I’ll be forced to return to the pieces of my life once the summer’s over. But that didn’t stop her from dancing, from dreaming, from living. Why can’t I do the same thing?

Because life isn’t a fairy tale. If you wake up missing a shoe, you’re not a princess. You simply drank too much. There won’t be a prince showing up on my doorstep, a glass slipper in hand, promising to make all my dreams come true. This is the real world, and in the real world, I have to chase my dreams myself.

“Dana.”

“Dana?”

“She doesn’t just deserve a raise. She deserves everything she could ever want.”

He links his hand with mine and spins me around, his motions graceful as he soaks me in. I’m so swept up in this moment, I don’t even have to concentrate on maintaining my balance or not tripping over my own feet, as I’m sometimes prone to do. Under Julian’s watchful gaze, I feel like I’m flying.

“You look…” He stops twirling me, then brings my body back to his. One hand remains clasped with mine as the other returns to my back. He begins swaying to no music at all, except the song in our heads. And I hear it. It’s low and struggling to break through the other noise, but it’s there. “You are stunning, Guinevere.” The hunger in his gaze softens as he lowers his voice. It’s gentle, benevolent, earnest. “I won’t be able to leave you alone for a second tonight, not with you looking like this.” He leans in, his breath warming my neck. “I won’t want to leave you alone for a second.”

I do everything to keep my composure. Inside, I want to scream at how perfect Julian can be when he wants. He seems to always know exactly what to say so I’ll never want to leave his side. I’m still supposed to be heartbroken over Trevor. But in the span of only a few days, Julian’s completely endeared me to him. What will he do by the end of the summer?

Placing my hand on his chest, I push against him, needing to put a little distance between us for my own sanity.

“We should go. We don’t want to be late, do we?”

He stares at me for a moment. I notice the subtlest hint of his shoulders dropping at the loss of contact. Or perhaps I simply imagine it, my desperation for him to feel this growing connection between us forcing me to see things that aren’t real. Then he fixes his expression, that flirtatious smirk I remember from the first time I saw him crossing his mouth.

“I suppose that would be a bad thing.” He holds his elbow out for me to place my arm through. “Come on, Princess. Time to get you to the ball.”





Chapter Twenty-Two





During my first month at the magazine, Viv insisted I attend the opening of an art installation at an eclectic little gallery in SoHo. It was the most upscale event I’d ever attended. Waitstaff in tails and gloves. Men in beautiful suits. Women in gorgeous gowns. And Champagne flowing like it grew on trees, which I suppose one could argue it does, since grapes are grown on vines and Champagne comes from grapes.