wanted to delete the email his mother was undoubtedly drafting at that very moment, listing every detail about his hot date. I wanted to feign amnesia about the whole topic.
I hadn’t yet decided what I would do about it by the time the hotel door opened and Julian stepped in. I was sitting on the couch with the list beside me and his mother’s email open on my laptop. I didn’t look up when he rounded the back of the couch, but I listened to the sound of his shoes hitting the hardwood floor and I picked up the scent of his spiced aftershave as soon as he stepped close.
“Italian cream cake,” he said, holding out a clear plastic takeout box in front of my line of sight. “As a peace offering.”
For two seconds, I couldn’t reply, too choked up with the weight of indecision. Why did his mother have to call when he was out? Why did I have to know just how gorgeous Priscilla was? Could she not have picked someone a little less easy on the eyes?
“Jo? Are you still mad at me?”
I blinked up at him, catching sight of his earnest eyes. I smiled and shook my head, too caught up in his sweet gesture to ignore him.
I reached out for the cake and laughed. In the corner of the box, there was a little dollop of icing.
“You got me extra icing?”
He smiled. “You mentioned that you preferred it that way. I figured it wouldn’t be much of a peace offering without it.”
He tucked his hands into his suit pockets and took a step back as I set the cake down on the table in front of me.
God dammit, did he have to act like my perfect soul mate at this very moment? I held the name of his very hot, very single, very blonde date in my hands and he was bringing me cake.
“What did I miss while I was gone?” he asked, unbuttoning his suit jacket and taking a seat on the couch across from me.
The shredder was only a few feet away. I could just reach over and drop the notes right into…
“Jo?”
I sighed. The truth. I had to tell him the truth. “Your mom called.”
His eyes widened. “Did you speak with her?”
“No. I told her I’m not allowed to talk to strangers.”
He looked truly horrified. “Seriously, what did she want?”
I held out the sheet of notebook paper and watched his long fingers wrap around the edge and pull it away from me.
“She wanted me to deliver that message to you,” I said.
His brows furrowed as he read my chicken scratch and then his jaw tightened. I watched the muscle shift beneath his sculpted cheek and then I turned to stare out the hotel window, wishing I’d never answered that damn phone call.
“You took this message?” he asked, staring back up at me with clear confusion.
“Every word,” I said with a flat smile, finally turning back to look at him. “Looks like you have a hot date on Wednesday.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julian
I pulled my tuxedo jacket off the hanger and slipped each of my arms inside. I straightened the lapels on my jacket so that they lay flat against my chest and then reached to pull my cufflinks out of a small leather box. My father had passed them down to me on my fourteenth birthday and each one was inscribed with a cursive L. Once they were in place, I paused and stared up at my reflection in my hotel mirror. My black tie hung loosely around my neck, waiting to be fastened into a bow. My hair still stuck up in every direction from my shower. I’d need to tame it before I left for my mother’s fundraiser, but I was taking my time, dragging my feet to get ready.
Truthfully, I hadn’t wanted to go to the fundraiser, especially not with a date handpicked by my mother. In the beginning, I’d set my heels in about the event, but then I spoke with Lorena and she planted the first seed of guilt in my mind.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to my mother in months. I’d moved back to the city without even telling her and now she knew I was here and didn’t care enough to see her. My mother had a nasty streak to her, but it didn’t make me sleep any better at night, knowing there were ways I could have tried harder.