Page 58 of Julian

“And you’re my boss.”

“I’m aware.”

She exhales slowly. “This isn’t the most—I mean, this is… it’s complicated,” she says quietly.

“Yes,” I agree, because anything else would be disingenuous.

“What—like, how—” Harper takes in a breath, gathering her thoughts. “What would people say?”

“I think they’d say, ‘Look at that Julian Langley… how’d he get so lucky to have such a beautiful woman on his arm?’”

Harper blushes. “Stop it. I’m worried about what your employees would think. I’m hardly the type of girl who sleeps her way to the top.”

I can’t help but laugh. “First… I’m not asking you to sleep with me.” She blushes again, eyes wide with shock and maybe a tinge of disappointment, which prompts me to add, “At least not yet.”

“But—”

“Harper,” I say, cutting her off. “We can be discreet while we figure this out, or we can shout it to the world. I don’t care. I just want to see you outside of our professional roles.”

Her lips press together, her thoughts visibly moving behind her eyes, weighing the implications and consequences.

“Then how would we do this?” she asks.

It is, objectively, the right question. Instead of responding immediately, I lean toward her. If there’s doubt or hesitation, I intend to resolve it.

Her breath stutters, her hand tightening slightly in her lap, but she doesn’t pull away. The kiss is different this time. More passionate, more electrifying.

When I pull back, it’s gradual, allowing space between us without fully severing the connection, giving her the opportunity to respond in whatever way she chooses.

She doesn’t retreat.

“What does this mean, Julian?” she asks, her voice vulnerable.

“I’m not going to take advantage of my position,” I say, my words steady, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Not with you.”

Her gaze sharpens, searching for any indication that this is anything less than what it appears to be.

“And I’m not interested in an undefined arrangement… I’m going to take you to dinner,” I say. “This weekend.”

She blinks, the simplicity of it clearly not what she expected, her mind recalibrating around the shift. “Dinner?”

“Yes.”

“And what happens after that?” she asks.

I hold her gaze, allowing the faintest trace of a smile to surface. “We’ll find out.”

Chapter 16

Harper

The elevator glides upward in near silence, smooth enough that I should barely notice it, and yet I feel every second of the ascent because I’ve read Julian’s text too many times in the last twenty-four hours.

Dinner. Saturday. 8 PM.

No explanation, just an address on Central Park South and a time, delivered with the same certainty he seems to apply to everything.

By the time the doors slide open on the eighth floor, my pulse has picked up slightly, not enough to alarm me but enough that I’m aware of it, aware of myself in a way I usually try not to be. I step out into a dimly lit space. It’s a grand room with large chandeliers, banquettes on the outskirts of the restaurant area, and large dining room tables spotting the rest of the room. But what registers most is the absence of sound.