Page 7 of The Truth of Us

Okay then.

I drop into the chair across from him, feeling the weight of the day pushing down on me. Typically, after a long day, I’d stop at a high-end lounge and find a willing participant to blow off some steam. But I can’t muster up the energy to even consider doing that tonight.

Instead, I relax into the leather chair and study one of the closest people in my life. “Lucy Bennett? The woman from this morning?”

“Yes,” he admits quickly.

Shit. Okay. Theo wasn’t lying; she really managed to get to Julian.

I exhale, thinking about my situation with Harper. “Didn’t think you were the type.”

Julian sits up straight. “I’m not. That’s the point.”

I never thought I’d see the day Julian conformed to dear old Richard's whims, but maybe, after all these years, he’s finally cracked under the pressure. I think back to the woman in question. We said little in our brief interaction, but Lucy definitely had a soft, warm quality you rarely see in the women of our world.

“You think she’s the right fit?” I ask, more worried for her than anything.

Julian doesn't relax, nor does he take his dark eyes off me. “I think she’s rational, discreet. Capable. Unattached.”

Jesus. Is that how we determine who we're going to marry?

“And human,” I joke, though not entirely. I feel like it needs to be said. “What if she’s a romantic?” I asked suddenly, thinking about how she carried herself. How she remained perfectly professional, but anyone looking closely could tell she was barely holding it together.

He doesn’t blink, stating in an almost bored tone, “In her position, she doesn’t have the luxury of romance.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to say,” I quip.

“It’s accurate.”

“Or cold,” I countered.

Julian actually looks like he’s feeling something for a brief second before he breaks eye contact. “She needs stability and support. I need alignment and a wife. This resolves what we both need.”

“And feelings?” I questioned, wondering how a setup like this could work in my situation, too.

He exhales loudly, working through how to answer. “This eliminates them.”

Could I do that? Figure out an arrangement with Harper? No feelings, just terms and boundaries.

“Huh. Interesting,” I say without meaning to.

“What is?” Julian asks, looking back at me.

I stand, suddenly feeling exhausted and ready to get out of here. “Nothing. Just...” I don't know why this thought is taking over me, or why I’m so worried about protecting a woman I barely know, but I say it anyway. “She would make a good mother.”

A wave of unexpected vulnerability crashes over me.

"Why do you say that?" Julian asks, drawing me out of my spiral.

I look at him, and for the first time in a very long time, I just speak without filtering my words or using a charismatic shield. "She seemed warm. The opposite of my mother... of our mothers."

I suppress the urge to shiver at the thought of my mother, quickly pushing it away and straightening my jacket. I think about what Julian is drafting, and my mind races.

"Send me a copy when you are done?" I ask.

Julian gives me a look I don’t have the energy to dissect, so I flash him one of my signature grins. “Relax. I won’t beat you to the altar.”

I turn and walk out of his office, closing the door behind me. But the thing that truly frightens me is that the thought of Harper standing across from me at an altar isn’t terrifying at all.