Dating Games(71)

“Good to see you, Chloe,” Julian says, finally acknowledging I’m not alone.

“You, as well, Julian. To what do we owe the…pleasure?” She discreetly pinches my side. I bat her away, struggling to maintain my composure.

“I came to collect Guinevere.” He shifts his gaze back to mine, a mysterious aloofness about him.

“Did I forget about something?” Frantic, I reach into my commuter bag to retrieve my planner, where every event I’m set to attend has been written down and color-coded. “I could have sworn—”

A hand reaches out, forcing me to let go of my planner, my life. Glancing up, I’m met with Julian’s smirk.

“Put the calendar away. You didn’t forget anything.”

I blink, swallowing hard at the intensity in his stare. “I didn’t?”

His lips turn into a playful smile as he shakes his head, slow and flirtatious. “No.”

“Then—”

“I stopped by to see if you wanted to do something.”

“Chloe and I were planning on dropping by Nora’s yoga studio—”

“But I was just telling Evie how exhausted I am from a crazy weekend,” Chloe interrupts, faking a yawn before winking conspiratorially. Squeezing my arm, she passes me a sly grin, then leans toward me, her voice a low whisper. “Don’t think. Enjoy the ride…on his rocket.”

I snort out a laugh, then instantly cover my mouth.

“Bye, you crazy kids!” Chloe calls out, waving as she heads off.

Once we’re alone, Julian returns his attention to me. “So it’s settled. We’ll do something.”

“What about the itinerary?”

“The itinerary?”

“Yes. The itinerary.” Passing him a coy smile, I bat my lashes. “That was part of our deal. You promised we’d only have to see each other during pre-approved times.”

In an instant, his playfulness disappears, his expression turning impassioned and carnal as he closes the distance between us. When his hand palms my back, forcing me against him, I gasp. My legs weaken as every synapse in my body fires at the same time.

It’s official. Julian Gage is the most potent drug known to man. He should be regulated and come with a warning to all females…and perhaps a few men.

Side effects include wet panties, labored breathing, and irregular heartbeat. May cause multiple orgasms upon even the slightest touch. Consult a doctor prior to repeated use.

He leans toward me, his voice a heady growl. “Fuck the itinerary.”





Chapter Twenty-Five





Fuck the itinerary indeed.

Over the next several weeks, that’s precisely what Julian and I did. I still accompanied him to the myriad of events that seemed be the hallmark of summer in the Hamptons, where he continued to try to convince many of the power players that his project was worth them investing their time and connections, but we also spent time together away from the Hamptons.

On more than one occasion, he made the trek back to the city to take me to dinner, or for a walk through Central Park, or to see Hamilton…after I’d mentioned I’d yet to see it and doubted I’d ever be able to score a ticket. He claimed he needed to come into the city for work anyway, but the fact that he seemed to spend many work hours with me made me believe otherwise.

When I wasn’t with Julian, I worked tirelessly on getting more of a feel for who August Laurent truly is. Now I know why Viv was so eager to green light this story. He’s incredibly tight-lipped. Yes, over the course of our phone conversations and email exchanges, he’s given me some insight into what he does and why, all revolving around the theme of empowering women and making them feel beautiful during a difficult time. But the article is missing something. No matter how many times I’ve written and rewritten it, it’s not the gripping exposé I’d originally envisioned. Not without more than he’s given me.

I tried to press for details about his clients, even asking if I could talk to a few with a guarantee of complete anonymity, but he denied my request instantly. Without any other option, I asked if the rumors about him and Sonia Moreno were true. I thought perhaps that would encourage him to open up more. I may have overplayed my hand because an entire week has gone by without so much as a response to any of my emails.

Before Viv approached me regarding this promotion, I’d always enjoyed my work. Writing for the sex and dating columns has been one of the least stressful jobs I’ve ever had. Yes, there are deadlines and Viv can be particular with how the articles are worded and presented, but after a while, I learned what she liked and adjusted my style to match her preference. Now I can’t help but feel like a complete failure, like I’m not cut out for this. Maybe my parents are right. Maybe I’m better suited to teach.

When Julian picks me up on the second Friday in August for my obligatory weekend in the Hamptons, I try not to let this roadblock affect my mood, but it’s obvious something’s bothering me. The instant I’m in the front seat of his Porsche Spyder…or as I’ve affectionately renamed her, Monday…Julian notices.

“You okay?” He steals a glance at me as he merges into traffic.

I float my eyes from the trendy buildings that make up the East Village, forcing a smile. “Of course.”