Louboutins. Julian got them for me as a Christmas gift, and I’d been dying to give them an outing for weeks. I left my hair down in its natural wavy state and put on a touch of makeup.
“Somebody’s out to impress,” Julian commented as he adjusted his cufflinks in the living room mirror.
“Hey! I wear dance pants five days a week. A girl needs to get dolled up every once in a while, you know.”
“Especially when there’s a tall, dark, and handsome ex-film star to be seduced,” he taunted, but I didn’t take the bait. Instead, I eyed him pointedly.
“You Googled Damon.”
“I most certainly did. Made for some very interesting reading.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” said Julian, “according to an inside source, his father took him on these crazy week-long benders when he was underage, encouraging him to drink and do drugs.”
Now I frowned even harder, because, going by what Damon told me of his dad, I imagined it was true. “That’s awful. And you of all people should know not to be judgey about stuff like that.”
“I’m not being judgey. In fact, I feel bad for the poor bloke. Things must have pretty shit with his old man for him to give up his entire career just to get away from him.”
“To be honest with you, I don’t think that was the only reason. He wasn’t cut out for the fame. There were some paps following him last night, and he got real edgy.”
“Well, if he doesn’t like being papped, then he picked the wrong city to start working in,” Julian commented glibly, and disappeared inside his bedroom. When he emerged, he was sliding a slim black tie around his neck, and I had to admit he looked good. With tousled golden-brown hair, hazel eyes, and perfect lips, Julian wasn’t a man left wanting in the looks department. It made me wonder why Alicia had been so frosty with him when they met today.
What had she seen that she didn’t like?
When I heard a car horn beep outside, I knew our taxi had arrived. I quickly grabbed my coat and purse before Julian slid on his suit jacket and offered his arm.
“You should count yourself lucky that your best friend is an escort who can offer you free services whenever you need a male companion,” he teased as we went downstairs and into the lobby.
“Not to mention unsolicited tales about sex swings,” I added, and he shot me a playful smile.
When we arrived at Club 49, a hip and stylish bar in Soho, I noticed a few familiar faces among the smokers outside. I waved a quick hello before Julian ushered me in. Not once in my life had I been stopped by a bouncer when accompanied by Julian. He simply exuded a worldly confidence that made other people want to bend to his will.
That annoying “What Do You Mean?” song was playing, and I spotted Iggy over by the bar with Farrah. We went to join them, and, since my boss had a soft spot for Julian, he smiled flirtatiously.
“Long time no see, Jules. How’ve you been?”
Julian bristled slightly. It irritated him when people called him Jules because it made him sound like a woman. Iggy knew this and always played on it. I never mentioned to my boss the reason for Julian’s prickliness. He’d been bullied pretty harshly at school for looking like a girl, and he hated any reminders of that time.
He didn’t look like a girl anymore, of course. Puberty had worked its magic, and his pretty face had grown into a masculine sort of beauty over the years.
“I’ve been good,” he answered curtly, leaning casually against the bar and lifting a hand to get the bartender’s attention. “A glass of pinot grigio and a tonic water and lime, please.”
The wine was for me, the tonic water for him. Due to a history with drug abuse, Julian had been teetotal for years. Don’t get me wrong, he liked to party with the best of them, but he tended to steer clear of alcohol.
“I heard there were some problems with the corset,” said Farrah, sipping on a glass of red.
I nodded. “I had to loosen it a little because she couldn’t breathe. It means there won’t be as much boob lift as before, but at least she won’t look so stiff.”
“In that case, I’ll have to make a few adjustments.”
“Did you hear that Bob got the sack?” Iggy butted in, and I frowned gloomily.
“Oh, no,