The Allure Of Julian Lefray Part 8

He laughed and came to stand in front of me. "Jo, I love it. Thanks for waking me up at the a.s.s-crack of dawn to see it. I don't know what I would do without an employee as dedicated as you are."

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was patronizing me.

"I hate you," I said, hitting his shoulder playfully.

"No." He smiled, pretending to ma.s.sage where I'd just hit him. "You can't hate your only friend in New York."

I narrowed my eyes. "Pfft. I have way more friends than you."

He arched a brow; he clearly didn't believe me.

"Like Dean," I said with a triumphant smile. I'd only met him last night but that didn't mean we weren't friends.

He rolled his eyes. "Right."

"He's pretty cute."

I'd said it as a joke-partly-but Julian obviously didn't take it as one. His laughter died and his gaze sliced over to me.

"Dean has a new girlfriend every week. He's not the settling down type."

I held up my free hand. "Whoa. It's not like I want to date him."

He didn't seem convinced, so I pushed further. "Besides, I don't date. Ever."

There. Julian had the truth and he could do with it what he wanted.

I brushed past him and headed toward the subway entrance, ignoring my flaming cheeks. He jogged to catch up with me and I could feel him studying me, clearly struggling with what he wanted to say. We walked down the stairs in silence. I swiped my subway card, pushed through the metal barrier, and headed toward the blue line track, all the while keenly aware of Julian's presence beside me.

"Why not?" he finally asked as we took our seats beside each other on the subway.

I tilted my head. "Why not what?"

"Why don't you date?"

His voice was gentle, and where I'd a.s.sumed there would be hints of judgment, there was only curiosity.

"Do I need an excuse?" I laughed.

He chuckled. "You make it sound like it's worse than pulling teeth."

For me, it was.

"The last time I went on a good date, I was in the seventh grade and Hunter Buchanan invited me over to play Mario Kart with him for three hours."

Julian started to crack up. "You're kidding me."

I shrugged. "I wish."

"Are you a virgin?" he asked. Just like that. Point blank.

I gaped so wide my jaw practically came unhinged. Jesus. Good thing the subway car was fairly empty.

"No!" I said, glaring over at him. "I'm not a freaking virgin. How lame do you think I am?"

He held up his hands in defense.

"What? You made it seem like that was the case. I thought I was going to have to do you a favor."

My cheeks were on fire. I knew I was blus.h.i.+ng so hard that the astronauts on the s.p.a.ce station would be able to detect it.

"By deflowering me?! Oh my G.o.d, Julian, you're verging on a.s.shole territory right now."

"No! No," he said, reaching for my arm so that I couldn't move away from him. "That's not what I meant."

He tried to catch my eye, but I held my gaze steady at the top of the subway car. There was an ad about an apartment finder service stretched across the edge of the ceiling; I focused on it like my life depended on it. I knew he was kidding, but the whole conversation was beyond embarra.s.sing. My self-confidence was lying in a pool on the ground, and my ego was mixed in there with it. I didn't need Julian to make it any worse.

"Jo-"

I shook my head. This conversation needed to end. Now.

"You know what? None of this even matters anyway because I have a date." I forced myself to look at him as I continued, "Tomorrow night in fact."

His grip loosened on my arm until he let it slide completely away.

"Really?"

His brows were drawn together, but I did nothing to relieve his confusion.

"Really." I nodded as an elaborate lie started to play out in my mind. "A friend of Dean's asked me to get drinks during the restaurant opening and I told him I'd think about it."

Hmm, that seems fairly logical. Even if I'd been with Julian most of last night, that didn't mean I hadn't had a few moments to myself, a few minutes for someone to hypothetically hit on me.

"And you're going to go?" he asked with a sharp tone.

I nodded, smug and annoyed by his line of questioning. "Yup. I think it's time to finally push myself out of my comfort zone, make some other friends in New York besides you."

Chapter Thirteen.

Josephine Did I have a date the following night? Sure.

Was it with a real person? Technically, no. (Unless ghosts of relations.h.i.+ps past count.) Would I be dressing to the nines, going to a bar, and sitting alone? Yes.

Why? Because stupid Julian with his stupid good looks could suck it.

In truth, I hadn't thought much about my love life in the recent years. When you go to an all-girls high school and then enroll in a fas.h.i.+on program for college, your odds of running into cute, eligible, interested men are just about zero. I'd dated off and on in Texas, but there'd been nothing serious and no one worth remembering.

I'd secretly hoped that moving to New York would change that, but it's not like I'd had much time to spread my wings (or my legs). So far I'd spent nearly all of my time working with Julian, hanging out with Julian, or texting Julian, which is why I was taking a night off from him, or at least a few hours.

I'd looked up good bars around my apartment. I knew that I could sign up for a dating site or download one of those "hookup" apps, but I wanted to do it the old school way. Surely there was still hope for people like me.

I'd decided to go to an intimate c.o.c.ktail bar near my tenth-floor walkup. (Yet another reason I didn't need to exercise. Ten sets of stairs is the work of the devil.) It was called The Merchant and it catered to a young professional crowd. At 5:45 PM, it was already packed and I had to slither past groups of friends to find the bar toward the back.

My skin crawled with nerves as I made my way through the crowd. It seemed like everyone else was sitting with at least one other person, but I was hoping I wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb if I sat at the bar by myself. The music was loud and the conversations were flowing around me. I kept waiting for someone to notice me, but no one even batted an eyelash as I pulled back one of the bar stools and reached for the drink menu. In some ways it felt like New York was a city for the lonely.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked with a heavy New York tongue. His blond hair was buzzed short and he had a five o'clock shadow that was working wonders for his otherwise baby face. I smiled and then motioned to the drink menu.

"Could I have just one more second?"

He nodded. "Take your time."

There were all sorts of fancy c.o.c.ktails with ingredients I couldn't p.r.o.nounce, but I didn't have much to spend, not if I wanted to stay within the strict budget I'd set for myself.

"Do you have any sauvignon blanc?" I asked the bartender with a friendly smile. A gla.s.s of wine couldn't cost that much.

He furrowed his brow. "Let me check."

He walked to the other end of the bar and I turned to inspect the patrons around me. I was smack-dab between two couples. The two on my left had thick foreign accents and were using boisterous hand gestures as they chatted loudly. They didn't even notice me watching them as they continued their conversation at lightning speed. Even if I'd understood what they were saying I couldn't imagine keeping up.

"Here you go," the bartender said, sliding a gla.s.s of wine across the bar.

I met his eye and smiled.

"Although between you and me, you shouldn't come to a bar and order wine," he said with a flirty smile.

"Oh really?" I asked, quirking a brow as I took a sip. "Tastes pretty good to me."

He laughed and wiped down the section of the bar in front of me. Maybe he was actually cleaning, or maybe he was stalling so we could keep talking.

"It's a waste of my talents as a mixologist. Unless I'm using the shaker, I'm basically a glorified bottle opener," he said with a wink.

I cracked up. "Oh really? Well, what's your favorite drink to make?"

He dropped his right brow as if I'd just issued a challenge.

"How about I make it for you?" he asked, already reaching for the shaker and a bottle of t.i.to's Vodka. "On the house, of course."

I smiled. We were flirting. This was flirting 101 and I was doing a fairly good job of it. At least I think I am.

I opened my mouth to reply just as someone spoke up behind me.

"Owen, we'll never turn a profit if you offer every beautiful woman a drink."

I thought I recognized the voice. Dark, deep, and confident. I spun around in my chair and grinned when I saw Dean standing there, hands tucked into his tailored suit pockets and a wicked smile lighting up his devilish glare.

"Dean! What are you doing here?" I asked, leaning forward and accepting his kiss on the cheek. His five o'clock shadow rubbed against my cheek as he pulled away and I realized that I hadn't been 100% honest with Julian earlier. Dean was definitely a catch, and were he not Julian's friend, I'd have a really hard time staying away from him.

"This is actually my bar," he admitted somewhat sheepishly. "What brings you here? Out with friends?"

Dean waved to Owen, the bartender, as the hostess greeted the couple beside me. Their table was ready in the lounge, which meant Dean could nab the open seat beside me before someone else swooped in. He slid into the vacant seat and turned his full attention my way.

"No. I'm here by myself." I held up my gla.s.s. "A girl needs a gla.s.s of wine every now and then."

He laughed.

"This is actually the first bar I've been to in New York," I admitted.

His eyes widened and he held his hand to his heart as if he were wounded. "Then you have not had the proper New York City tour guide."

Is that true? I thought back to the day before, when Julian and I had explored Central Park and then eaten breakfast on the steps of the Natural History Museum. After we were sufficiently stuffed, I'd forced him to help me grocery shop and we'd stolen every free sample inside the Whole Foods bakery department until a customer service employee had politely asked us to purchase something or leave. All in all, it was an awesome day.

"Is Julian keeping you at work until all hours of the night? Is that why you haven't gone out much?"

I shook my head. "No. Not at all. I'm just a homebody by nature. This city can be a little intimidating."

He turned to the bar as Owen pa.s.sed him a drink. I smiled at him, but the flirty man who'd been there a few moments ago was gone, probably too intimidated by the fact that his boss was watching now.

"To friends," Dean said, holding his gla.s.s up toward mine.

"To friends," I repeated, clinking my gla.s.s with his.

"Now tell me how you like working for Julian."

Julian, Julian, Julian. Even when I wasn't with him, he seemed to find a way to become the topic of my thoughts and my conversations.

"It's fun," I answered. I knew I was being vague, but I wasn't sure how much I wanted to divulge.

"Have you two found a workplace yet?"

I shook my head.

"So do you just work from coffee shops or something?"

I glanced down at my drink. "Uh, no. We usually just work from his hotel room."

He grunted in disbelief. "Guess that explains your relations.h.i.+p with him."

"Our relations.h.i.+p?"

He nodded.

"It's strictly professional between us," I began to clarify before backpedaling. "Well, I mean we hang out and talk outside of work, but it's strictly..."