Page 84 of Julian

“You think I don’t notice things?”

Color rises into her cheeks and she looks away again, but I can see the wheels turning now.

“They’re huge,” she murmurs to herself. “Their engagement on social media is so strong. They have a great brand narrative, but I’m surprised they haven’t expanded further.”

“Yes,” I reply calmly. “And there’s a position open for the chief of staff to the Chief Marketing Officer to help with exactly that.”

She stares at me, then laughs once under her breath like the idea is absurd.

“Julian…”

“I am not handing you the job,” I say firmly before she can spiral into objections again. “But I did tell them they should interview you.”

“I haven’t done anything like that before,” she says quietly.

“No,” I say. “You’ve done a lot harder.”

Her eyes lift back to mine.

“You’ve survived,” I say. “You’ve adapted, raised a teenager while working multiple jobs and still somehow remained ambitious underneath it all.” I shake my head. “Most executives I know would collapse within a week inside your life.”

A faint laugh escapes her. “I do it because it’s family. I’d do anything for my family.”

“The Penny Aura founder wants to meet you next week,” I continue more gently now. “That’s all this is. A meeting.”

She stares out at the snowy city again, processing. “You really think this could work? That I could make this work?” she asks, an innocence in her voice that I find so sexy.

“I know you can.”

I arrive home late that night after our annual board meeting stretches nearly two hours longer than anticipated. Year-end meetings always do, especially when our agendas grow longer and longer each season.

The approach of January, the start of a new year and new problems, always makes otherwise intelligent people suddenly desperate to solve every unresolved issue before year-end.

It’s exhausting.

By the time I step through the front doors of the townhouse, the city is subdued, dark and ready for rest.

I loosen my tie as I cross the foyer.

Harper had plans tonight with Abby, which, if I’m being honest, I’m glad about.

Dylan returns from North Carolina shortly, and once he’s back, Harper’s world will become chaos again around responsibilities and schedules and the endless gravitational pull of caring for other people. I want her to enjoy these final few days of peace while she can.

The aroma of food reaches me before I step fully into the kitchen. Percy, of course.

My dinner is already laid out neatly at the island beneath the warm pendant lighting—a beef filet, roasted broccoli, a glass of red wine breathing beside the plate. Percy never misses.

Usually at this hour, he has already disappeared upstairs to his private quarters for the evening. Tonight, he remains downstairs, leaning lightly against the counter with a dish towel folded over one arm, watching me with a calm patience.

I suppress a smile as I shrug out of my coat.

“You’re still awake,” I observe.

“So are you, sir.”

I glance toward him as I cut into the steak. “You’re hovering.”

“I am lingering,” Percy corrects mildly. “Hovering implies panic.”