The Allure Of Julian Lefray Part 30

I needed to call Elizabeth back, but I gave myself some time to process her message first. I jumped in the shower and ran the water until it was hot as sin, dipping my head beneath it and closing my eyes. I could count the number of times in my life when I'd felt out of control on one hand: 1. When Jimmy Sanders knocked my hotdog to the ground in elementary school and I was too chickens.h.i.+t to stand up for myself.

2. Right before I jumped out of the plane the first time I went skydiving.

3. When I'd had a one-night stand with a woman who showed up at my place the next day with a suitcase in tow. She'd a.s.sumed she was moving in. After one night together.

4. Right f.u.c.king now.

I was supposed to get out of the shower, don my suit, go to my mom's dinner, and sit across from her at the table while she rambled on about something I couldn't care less about. Meanwhile, the first woman I'd truly come to love was in Texas, completely out of cell phone range and completely unaware of my feelings for her.

I turned off the water, wrapped a towel around my waist, wiped the fog off the mirror, and stared good and hard at my reflection. My eyes stared back at me, challenging me. This is it. She doesn't know how serious you are about the relations.h.i.+p, and she doesn't know how valued she is at the company. You either grow a pair and go get her or you regret it for the rest of your life.

By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, I was ready to call Elizabeth back. That is, right after I called my sister. I dialed her number and then pulled my suitcase out of the hotel closet.

"Hey, I can't talk right now," she answered with a frenzied voice. "I'm scrambling to get ready for dinner. I just got back to my apartment."

"That's fine. I'm just calling to let you know that I won't be at dinner. Tell Mom I'll make it up to her."

I pulled open my dresser drawers and reached for a few pairs of boxer briefs and socks.

"What? No! Why the h.e.l.l are you canceling last minute?"

I dropped my running shoes into my suitcase, straightened up, and took a breath.

"Because I'm going to Texas."

Chapter Forty-Seven.

Josephine By the time I stepped off the last Greyhound bus, I felt like a baby giraffe learning to walk for the first time. My knees were wobbly and my feet had lost all feeling at about hour 20 of my 36-hour drive. I needed to charge my phone and check my email, but first I needed to retrieve my suitcase from the growing pile beside the bus.

I'd lost Gladys somewhere around Lubbock, but worry not, for she left me clear instructions to find her on "that internet yearbook". I'd a.s.sured her I'd find her on Facebook and we'd parted ways. For the next few glorious hours, I'd had two seats all to myself. I'd stretched out and stared out at the Texas hill country, wondering what Julian would think of all this wide open s.p.a.ce. New York City can be overwhelming; the concrete jungle seems to never end. I was beginning to think that a week back in Texas would do me some good.

"Oh my G.o.d. Oh my G.o.d. Oh my G.o.d!"

I turned toward the squealing voice just in time to catch my best friend as she hurled her full body weight at me. Lily wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips, nearly toppling me over. I stepped back and caught my balance, but she still clung to me with her full strength.

"You're like a flying squirrel," I laughed.

She loosened her grip around my neck and stepped back, flailing her arms.

"I cannot believe you're here right now," she said, beaming from ear to ear.

Getting a good look at her made me want to cry. I'd missed her so much over the last few months-especially in the last few days-and now there she was, standing in front of me in her full glory. Lily had clearly been out in the Texas sun. A smattering of freckles ran along the bridge of her nose and across her tan cheeks. Her blonde hair was streaked with honey highlights. Whereas I was tall and on the slender side (hence why Marc Jacobs had pulled me up onto the runway), Lily had been the adorable one growing up. I'd always envied her heart-shaped face and bee-stung lips. Our small town boys were never sure what to do with my height, but Lily was always the center of every adolescent boy's heart.

"Do you understand how happy I am to see you?" she asked. "This town is slowly crus.h.i.+ng my soul."

I laughed and pa.s.sed her my backpack so I could grab my suitcase from the top of the pile near the bus.

"I'm sure it's not that bad," I contested, though I knew she wasn't really exaggerating.

She shot me a pointed stare.

I laughed and trailed after her toward the parking lot. Her beat up red car sat in the very last row, backed into the spot just in case it didn't start and needed to be jumped. Our high school and college years had been marked by continuous failings on the part of her old car. Even still, I was happy to see it. I tossed my luggage in the back and slid into the pa.s.senger seat. It still smelled like the Ocean Breeze air freshener she hung from the rearview mirror and the pealing upholstery clung to my skin as soon as I took my seat.

"That was the longest bus ride of my life," I said as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the gravel drive.

"Well at least you'll have me beside you on the way back."

I smiled.

"We'll have to find someone to drop us off though. I'm selling this bad boy tomorrow afternoon."

I glanced back. "What? Really?"

She slid her hands across the steering wheel and nodded. "Yup. I'm only getting a few hundred bucks for it, but it's better than nothing."

I frowned and glanced around the car. The dashboard was cracked and peeling off near the corners. The numbers on the radio had chipped off years ago and the CD player had never worked. The cloth covering on the ceiling had lost hold a while back and it dipped low in some parts. Even still, I'd kissed my first boy in the back of this car. Lily and I had tee-peed quite a few houses in high school using this bucket of bolts as the getaway vehicle.

"I'm kind of sad to see ol' hoopty go," I admitted.

She grunted. "That makes one of us. I can't wait to get rid of it."

"Well thanks for picking me up. I was scared you weren't going to show up since I couldn't call and remind you."

She turned off the main highway and pulled onto a dirt road, toward our small town. We still had miles to go before we'd be home.

"Yeah, I tried to call you this morning, but I figured you didn't have signal."

I nodded.

"I'm a.s.suming you have to eat dinner with your family tonight?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Today is my dad's birthday so I can't miss it. I'm going to help my mom with the cake and stuff."

Her eyes lit up. "I just put together a bunch of good cake recipes for my blog. You should test one of them out."

I smiled. Typical Lily. "I'm pretty sure my mom is just going to make a box cake. We aren't fancy like you."

She cringed. "Why do people have so little creativity in the kitchen?"

I reached out and gripped her shoulder. "Have no fear, Lil. Soon you'll be in New York City and there will be crazy restaurants galore. You'll have so many restaurants to review for your blog, you won't know where to start."

She smiled. "If only I could afford to eat at one of them."

I let my hand drop to the car console and stared out the front window. We were two broke b.i.t.c.hes, but that wouldn't always be the case. Lily was so talented and she knew food. She'd gone to culinary school instead of a standard college. She didn't want to be a chef. She wanted to be a restaurant reviewer for the ma.s.ses, a trustworthy version of Yelp with easy to read reviews posted weekly with photos and interesting tips.

"We'll figure it out," I promised, offering her a smile.

By the time she pulled into my driveway to drop me off, I was wholeheartedly confused on what I was supposed to do about the Vogue position. A part of me didn't want to tell Lily about it until it was a sure thing. I'd already be upset enough if I didn't get it, maybe it was best if I didn't have to spread the bad news around.

"Call me tomorrow and we'll go over plans for New York," she said as I leaned down to close the pa.s.senger side door.

"Sounds good. Thanks for the ride!"

She pulled out of the driveway and I turned to the house. Nothing had changed in the months I'd been away. My mom still had roses in the front flowerbeds and my dad was a few days late on mowing the gra.s.s, as usual.

I smiled and headed for the front door just as it swept open and my mother appeared. She wiped her hands on her ap.r.o.n and stepped onto the porch. G.o.d, we looked so much alike. Her brown hair was chopped off in a short, blunt bob and she was wearing a sundress that was a familiar staple of my life growing up. Her face was makeup free, as usual, but she didn't need any. Her green eyes were rimmed with dark lashes, like mine, and her smile was infectious enough not to need any lipstick.

"My Josie," she beamed, pulling me in for a tight hug. I inhaled her scent and wrapped my arms around her, letting her envelop me in a much-needed hug.

"Hey Mom," I said as she released me to grip my shoulders and get a good look at me.

Her smile faltered. "Are you eating up there in New York? You look too thin, sweetie."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "I promise I'm eating a lot. I just walk everywhere."

She pursed her lips, not quite sure if she wanted to trust my answer or not. I was sure by the time I left on Friday I'd have a heaping amount of food to take back with me, "just in case".

"Where's Dad?" I asked, dropping my bags in the foyer and stepping farther into the house.

My dad poked his head over the leather recliner in the living room, waving the remote control in greeting. "Hey sweetie!"

I smiled and bent down over the chair to give him a hug.

"Happy birthday, Dad."

"Oh, thanks. It's not every day that your old man turns forty."

I laughed and kissed his cheek. "Whatever you say, pops."

"C'mon, Josephine. You can help me with dinner while Dad finishes watching golf."

When she turned, I made a gagging motion toward my dad. He laughed and shook his head.

"Go help her. She misses you, y'know."

"Yeah, yeah."

I dropped my luggage in the hallway and followed my mom into the kitchen.

"Bet you don't get many home cooked meals up in New York," she said, handing me an extra ap.r.o.n from the back of the pantry door. Our kitchen hadn't changed at all in the last twenty years. Old floral wallpaper still covered the walls. Dark wood cabinets sat above weathered countertops. The refrigerator was still covered with drawings and photos of me from when I was younger.

I smiled at the sight.

"Actually, I fixed spaghetti for a friend just last week."

Julian had complained that the noodles were so al dente that he chipped a tooth, so we'd tossed it out and gone for takeout instead. But technically, I cooked.

"Oh, so you're finding friends? I've heard it can be pretty hard to get to know people up there."

She pa.s.sed me the pepper grinder and together we added salt and pepper to a chicken dish that was about to go into the oven. Carrots, peas, and onions were stuffed around the chicken inside the ca.s.serole dish. My mouth was already watering.

"Yeah. I have some friends."

"Where'd you meet them?" she asked, glancing up at me over the chicken.

"Work," I replied, dropping the peppershaker back onto the counter.

She went to work chopping up green beans and I stood to the side, trying to stay out of her way.

"And they're good people?"

I laughed. "From what I've seen so far."

She pursed her lips. "Well. I just want you to be careful. Don't get swept off your feet by some guy. You need to focus on what's important."

I rolled my eyes when she turned to toss the green beans in a big pot to boil, deciding it was best to just stay silent. She hummed as she added spices to the green beans and I plopped down on one of the bar stools.

"Do you remember Sonya Foster?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.

I quirked a brow. "She was in my graduating cla.s.s. Why?"

She turned back around and shrugged. "She's really made something out of that little salon downtown. People travel from all over to get haircuts from her. Her parents were bragging about it during dinner the other night."

She waved the spoon in the air and kept on rambling.

"I think it's just great that she's brought something to our community like that."

I gripped the edges of my stool. "Did you mention my career at dinner?"

She turned to reach for the salt and met my eye for a moment. Shame burned behind her gaze, plain to see.

"Your father and I told them you were in New York, but I couldn't remember what your exact job t.i.tle was and I didn't want to get it wrong." She shook her head. "The Fosters wouldn't know anything about that sort of thing anyway."

Of course, because country folk are incapable of learning things. Right.

"Y'know if you wanted to come home, I really think you could do something like Sonya has done. You could maybe even work for her for a little bit and get your bearings again."

I scooted my stool back so that it sc.r.a.ped against the wood floor.

"Jo?"

I shook my head.