Always the Last to Know by Kristan Higgins Page 0,124
was terrified you’d turn away and talk to your extremely good-looking and fit boyfriend, who would no doubt go on to become president of the United States or cure cancer. But you didn’t turn away, and you didn’t have a boyfriend, and you graciously said yes when I asked you out after forty-five agonizing minutes of mindless chatter, the subject of which I still have no recollection.”
His eyes were tearing up. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, never more so than after you had our daughters, or when you’re folding laundry, or in the car, or at your desk. You never have to eat salmon again. I will henceforth take on all the baking of the fucking gluten-free vegan cupcakes, and I can assure you that our firstborn doesn’t hate you at all, she is merely blinded by the horrors of adolescence and will once again become your darling girl.”
He folded the paper and put it in his back pocket. “I love you. It’s pathetic, really. I worship you. You at twenty percent is more than every other woman in the world at one hundred, and you at one hundred is nothing short of a magnificent tornado, but if you need help, darling, please, ask for it. That’s my job. To take care of you.”
She was crying again, but the tears felt wonderful this time. “Why haven’t you told me this before? I always . . . I never . . . I never knew you watched me buy tampons.”
“Darling, I’m British. Free expression of emotion is forbidden by the Crown.” He looked down. “I just assumed you knew.”
“I love you.”
“Thank God, because I’m nothing without you, Juliet Frost.”
They were in each other’s arms then, holding on tight, kissing with relief and love and blessed familiarity. His darling bald spot and strong arms, the smell of his soap, how they were the perfect height for each other.
“They’re kissing,” came Sloane’s voice.
“Gross,” said Brianna, and Juliet smiled against her husband’s mouth.
What a joy, what a blessing to know that after all this time, love could grow and flourish like the lilacs below, growing stronger and intertwining, becoming more beautiful with each passing year.
* * *
— —
The next day, almost purring from the lack of sleep and an abundance of sex, Juliet went into DJK and buckled down to work. A phone conference with a client, design tweaks on the senator’s house, a long meeting with Brett on an airport addition. Nothing bothered her. Work was finally as it used to be.
To her surprise, Arwen stopped in her office around five. “Would you like to have a drink after work?” she said.
“Oh! Sure. Where did you have in mind?”
“Barcelona at six?”
“Sounds good.”
And so, at six on the dot, she opened the heavy wooden door of the restaurant and went in. Arwen was already there at a high top. “Just a Perrier for me,” Juliet said to the server.
“Same,” Arwen said. “And privacy, please.” She smiled at the server to soften the words. “How was your time off, Juliet?”
One day off. One day. “Lovely,” Juliet said. “My mom and I went to Boston.”
“Fun.”
“Are you close with your mother?”
“Sure. Of course.” She offered no further details, and Juliet realized she really didn’t know Arwen at all.
The server brought their water and slipped away. “What’s up?” Juliet asked.
“I’ll get right to it. I’m leaving DJK and starting my own firm.”
“My goodness.” That was fast. Not entirely unexpected, and not terribly unwelcome news. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
“Positive. It’ll be called Arwen Alexander Architecture.”
“Triple A.”
“Exactly. I’ve already had a logo designed.”
Juliet opted not to point out the car association. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I want you to be part of it.”
Okay, now that was surprising. “That’s very flattering. Thank you.”
“You know I’ve gotten a lot of attention recently, and it’d be foolish not to seize on it and make a move now.”
Smart woman. “There will be the usual noncompete issues, of course.”
“Of course. I’m not worried. Are you interested?”
“What’s the offer? I assume I’d be a partner.”
Arwen sipped her water, maintaining steady eye contact, then set her glass down. “Actually, no. I’d like you to come on as senior associate.”
The nerve. Eleven years her junior, and she wanted Juliet to be subordinate. “Who are the partners, then?”
“Just myself and Kathy.”
Kathy? That was . . . wow. Kathy. “Well, good luck.” DJK would go back to the way it was. No more It Girl, no more fawning over the shiny new thing. Good.