by Pamela Ann
“Do you fancy the man?”
I raised my brow at her, aghast.
She made some lazy hand gestures before adding, “This best friend, whatever his name is.”
“Julien. And no, I don’t fancy him in that sense, but if you’re curious to know if he’s handsome … Well, let’s just say the man knows how to make me blush. He’s quite a charmer and very easy on the eyes. It’s a lethal playboy combination, one I try to stay away from.”
She had the audacity to tap her chin, pretending to ponder my situation. “Oh, right, ‘cause going as his date tonight is the best way to take your own advice.”
“It’s not like that. I don’t know…” I sighed loudly before deciding to take the white leather chair that was situated in the corner, feeling a little lost all of a sudden. “I have this feeling that, if I don’t go tonight, I might miss my chance.”
“Chance for what?” Claire took the opposing chair, appearing more confused than I was.
“I have no idea.” I wish I did. “It’s simply a feeling I got, and I had to follow my gut.”
“Bloody hell, you’re making this Julien man break bro codes. Best we transform you into a super model in case you have to deck it out with the sexy French ex-lover. If it does happen, it’s safer to be equipped with all of your best assets.”
I couldn’t agree more. Therefore, with a mission in mind, we started to work together since I had so little time on my hands—about forty-five minutes, give or take.
While she helped me with my hair, I was applying my foundation.
She paused, seeking my eyes through our reflection in the large expanse of the mirror. “One more thing, Isobel. I hope you won’t take offence in this, and if you don’t agree, I don’t mind, because I value our friendship above all else. I hope you know that, don’t you?”
Her blabbering was making me positively nervous. “What is it? It’s nothing horrid, is it?”
“No,” she breathed out, as if having a trifling time gathering her bearings. “Well, I hope you don’t consider it as such.”
Bloody fuck. “Say it, Claire, or I might go bonkers from waiting!” I exclaimed with exasperation. She was making me more jittery than I already was. What could it be?
“Okay.” She glared at me before she started to look as if she was preparing herself for war. “I need your permission, you see. Well, I meant to ask—if it’s perfectly fine that is—if I could ask Noah out.”
She likes Noah?
Well, hell. Good for her.
Seriously, the only qualm I had with her was, what took her this long to ask me?
“You’re an idiot. Of course you can. There was no need to make it appear as if our friendship was doomed if you asked the question out loud. Noah’s a great man; I think you might find a gem in him.”
“From the few times I’ve met him, he’s quite a proper, genuine man. I also admire the fact that he’s passionately invested in his craft. He’s also funny, and I can’t fault a man who has a knack for making me laugh, you know given my dry sense of humor and what of it.”
“I’m more than happy for you, Claire. Truly. Now, if we can get myself all done up, you can immediately put this idea into action once I leave. I believe Noah will be off from work in an hour’s time.”
She instantly perked up, cheerful, and winked at me.
Julien blew out a long, whistling sound the moment he saw me stride towards where he was standing in the hotel foyer, waiting for yours truly to arrive.
“How perfect you look!” he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, his eyes gleaming with devilish charm.
Beaming, I cocked my brow at him, utterly pleased. “As do you, Julien. How are you this evening?”
“Quite better now, actually.”
Blushing from his appreciative gaze, I ventured towards safer subjects. “And is your room to your liking?”
He smirked as he took hold of my elbow, leaning in to whisper in my ear, “Chérie, that is the last thing I care to think about. Now, are you ready to begin our splendid evening ahead?”
Quite forward, wasn’t he? It was part of his charm, after all.
“Lead the way, Monsieur Geroux.” Flirting was part of this ordeal, anyway. The more I seemed to practice the art, the more effortless it came to me.
“I think you and I will get on just fine, Isobel,” he mused with a sexy laugh while carting me off to his car that was parked right outside the hotel, waiting.
Without giving a backward glance, I knew Claire, who was hiding somewhere, was cheering me on, as I was for her and her wicked plans with Noah.
The racy, two-seater sports car wasn’t so obliging to my tiny dress because it made it quite impossible to shift without exposing more of my thighs. The tight-hugging dress was undoubtedly begging for attention, which was my point all along. Still, I didn’t want to tease the wrong man. Though, it seemed irrelevant at this point since Julien seemed to be quite captivated by me.
Recalling our few encounters beforehand, he had been a natural flirt, and if I remembered correctly, he tended to bait Hugo’s temper whenever he could. Knowing how he was, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was doing this on purpose just for their friendship’s sake. His humor, when it came to his friend, was rather strange, but I supposed men had their own kind of pranks that would somehow push each other’s buttons.
All I knew was that Hugo trusted him, and for him to bestow such on him, it only meant Julien was a man of his word. That fact alone comforted me enough to go out with him.
That aside, I wondered how this night would turn out.
Boring, surely, it wouldn’t be, not with this amorous man.
Chapter 18
Isobel
The dinner consisted of sushi, sake, and clever stories. I dared to even confide a little about my dilemma with Damen and how difficult it had been since I had gotten back from Monaco. Surprisingly enough, Julien was a good listener. He was rather keen when I spoke and gave rational advice, something I hadn’t foreseen, since he tended to never take things seriously. The fact that he wasn’t at all judgmental made me respect him a little more. Though I wasn’t brave enough to disclose what truly transpired between Hugo and myself, I got the feeling that I simply didn’t have to if I wasn’t willing.
After the almost two hour Japanese feast, I found myself much more comfortable around him. I had never become accustomed to that when I was with Hugo, as he never failed to put me on edge. Maybe it was the type of attraction I had with the man or simply that tantalizing kind of energy he had around him that never failed to command a room with his presence alone. Whatever it was, it was the polar opposite with his friend.
Julien was easy to get on with. His personality was less intimidating than his friend. I couldn’t help truly liking him as a man yet also as a person because underneath the flirting and musings was a genuine man. Although, I got the inkling that not a lot of people got to see it.
Highly stimulated by the sake and abundant merriment, we both left the restaurant to head over to Callum Kensington’s birthday bash at his home in Chelsea.
The ride in his car was far less strained and awkward than it had been a couple hours before. This time, there was shared laughter and comfortable ease, which made it rather easy for me to relax and not be as uptight as I had been before the night had begun.
Throughout the evening, I had been dying to ask the one question that had been in the forefront of my mind, and that was if Hugo was going to come at the party since he, too, was a dear friend of the birthday boy. Instead, I held my tongue, still unsure what he would make of it had I truly inquired about it. Besides, I also didn’t want to be deemed eager or, worse yet, like I was using him to get to Hugo. I could lie and deny it, but it was the underlying truth, so if this was how I would go about it, then so be it.
The Kensington’s grand home was exactly what I had expected: lavishly styled, minimal grandeur, with understated wealth. We were greeted by Callum’s wife Stella, whom I also had met o
nce and who happened to be blossoming in her pregnancy.
“Congratulations! You look quite lovely,” I joyously greeted her when she directed me a warm smile.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Isobel.” Her eyes then gazed towards my companion, impishly curious. “Julien, you’ve been keeping up with the naughtiness, I see. Good luck, I think you might need it.”
She was referring to Hugo, which made me all the more anxious. I mean, everyone in their circle knew Hugo wasn’t exclusive to one woman, so for her to insinuate that Julien would need luck … Well, was that about breaking the bro code thing Claire had mentioned earlier on?
Watching Stella beautifully gliding about in her cream colored gown with such grace and elegance, I felt a small tinge of jealousy creeping out of nowhere. Maybe it was because she appeared to be content with her life. She glowed and her smile struck me as one a person would make when they had all their wishes come true. I wished that someday I would have that, too, a future where I had a man who loved me as much as I was crazy about him.
In this era, it would be quite a feat to acquire such rarity. After all, this was the age of self-expression, and there was no limit to where that could lead. Even sexually, men and women could simply explore both sides, and it was mostly freely accepted in society. If one felt undermined by your boss, one could simply sue them for such and such.
That was a great achievement for our society, but that, too, had its downfall. Too much of anything could lead to being too absorbed with oneself. Our daily lives littered the social media. Privacy was a thing of the past. Too much self-entitlement and self-promotion promoted an unhealthy recipe for relationships, and the influence along with the overall perception of the younger generation would suffer. Marriages tended to end in divorces because each party felt like their needs weren’t being met. Everything could be done in such drastic measures that one couldn’t even take a moment to reflect that maybe a compromise—a simple conversation about how it had come about—was all that was needed to make it work. No one, it seemed, could spare a moment to cherish what we had instead of chasing for something better out there.
Love would shift, but it would be up to the people committed to each other to see it through so they themselves would evolve. Time was unstoppable, and with time came change. If one wasn’t willing to progress, then one stopped their growth.
One thing that my father and the other selfish ilk like him didn’t realize was that marriage was a commitment. Egocentricity should only be applied if it would benefit your partner, as well. My mother had abominably endured this maltreatment. She would argue that she had done it out of love, but to me, that wasn’t love. Love should uplift a person, and nowhere did it state that it could be forgiven if the object of your affection struck you and started to abuse you mentally, physically, and emotionally. What she was, unfortunately, was an enabler to his addictions and faults.
What I had learned from witnessing such horrific events through my mother’s experiences was that there was a fine line between love and idiocy, and no matter the fault of the woman, no man should ever strike her just because he was temperamental or simply fancied it at the moment. Women should never endure such abuse from anyone, let alone their husbands, the partner who had vowed to love them through sickness and in health.
Subsequently, with all these poor examples of love, I was becoming a skeptic to whether it lasted forever.
My meandering thoughts were brought to a halt when Julien interrupted me by handing me a champagne flute with a succulent strawberry deliciously floating about.
“Here’s more alcohol to taint your bloodstream, chérie. But do sip on it slowly,” he dutifully advised. “Oh, just to warn you, Hugo will be here tonight, and I have this feeling that he won’t be at all pleased to know that I have taken a liking to one of his past lovers.”
Well, hell.
“I wasn’t particularly one of his favorites.” I paused, giving him a thoughtful look then adding, “Well, in that particular sense, I mean.” That wasn’t hard to admit, now was it? Not particularly.
“Odd that you think that…” He made a face, eyeing me differently. “From what I can recall, he was rather too keen on you.”
Was he? I supposed he was keen to have sex with me, but apart from that novelty, I didn’t think he was, not in the way he was implying.
“I somehow doubt that. We parted amiably, though, if that helps ease your worry.” Hugo was considered in my past … and my future… Well, who knew who would be the contender. I was simply streamlining my options.
“That is the last thing I am worried about, chérie. Trust me on that.” He winked before raising his glass for a toast. “To an unforgettable evening.”
“To an unforgettable evening, indeed,” I cheekily murmured back, feeling better not that we were on the same page. What particular page? I was not quite so sure about that, but since he and I were having such a splendid time together, I wasn’t entirely keen to find out at the moment.
For a while, we enjoyed mingling with other people until we got to an open patio that had a piano and a famous pianist playing. Pergolas adorned with white mesh fabrics and dimly lit candles made the area aglow with bonding and intimacy. The ambiance and the slow jazz music simply made my blood sing. Feeling rather buzzed and amazing, I softly swayed to the music, purely relishing the beautiful moment.
This sentiment, however, was cut short the moment Julien leaned close to my ear and whispered, “The man has arrived.”
My swaying instantly stopped. My smile, the buzzed feeling I had, everything stopped and ground to a standstill. The urge to run and hide in the closet—or anywhere, really—was inviting as the seconds ticked away.
“Dance with me.”
My heart started stampeding against my chest.
“Where? Here? Right now?” I was trying not to look to my left and see him for myself. Though I was dying inside, I simply couldn’t do it. Was it guilt? I wasn’t sure yet.
Julien appeared too amused for my jumpy nerves. “Here. There. Anywhere is fine with me.”
Before I knew it, he had his hands around me, gently swaying to the music that had enthralled me only a little bit ago.
“You’re full of mind games, aren’t you?” I voiced out my observation and got the answer I needed when he shrugged, unperturbed about my seemingly suggestive question. “Why, what has poor Hugo done to you?” The plot was getting complicated, and I wanted to know what was going on with his mind.
My question aroused a husky laugh from him before he shook his head in denial. “He’s been rather dull and gloomy as of late, so I thought this might cheer him up a bit.”
“Well, what a thoughtful friend you are, dear sir.”
“Aren’t I?”
What a cheeky bloke he was. “You’re really, really wicked, Julien.”
“It’s the best way to live. You should try it sometime,” he roguishly suggested.
It was my turn to laugh. “I just might.” I most likely would. I had read somewhere that, if one started to care less about things, the clearer their path became. That notion had benefited me when it came to my father and his twisted antics. It was advice I surely wouldn’t forget.
“Well, well, well, am I interrupting this intimacy you two are having?” A distinctly familiar voice came from right behind me, which was too close for comfort.
Frozen in place, I glowered at Julien, who was rather the opposite of me.
“Hugo—”
“Since when did you start fishing in my pond of ex-lovers, Julien?” he threw the question in such a passive manner that it reminded me of a ticking time bomb.
“Well…” Julien playfully supplied before adding more to my anxiety, “I suppose it was the second my eyes fell on this extraordinary, stunning woman. She is exquisite, wouldn’t you agree, Hugo?”
Fuck. Why would he bait him in such a way? I was so tense that I started to profusely sweat.
It didn’t help my cause when Hugo decided
to ignore the question. Instead, he chose to make a snide remark, “She’s in love with someone else. Best you move on to better pastures. I did.” With that, he walked away.
I supposed I should congratulate myself for not having the energy to face him, but still, his presence alone had almost given me a heart attack.
“He’s still dull and gloomy, I see,” he said as he watched Hugo walk away before giving me a kind, understanding face. “Don’t let his manners or lack thereof ruin your night.”
“No, of course not. I was just taken aback with his comments, is all.”
He was rather unkind stating such things, pretending as if I wasn’t standing there in between them.
All the excitement in me had gone and fizzled. Needing to regroup and have some time to myself, I quickly made an excuse to go to the loo then broke away from Julien to search for my safe haven, currently named the powder room.
I was about to heave a sigh of relief when I entered the bathroom that was decorated in black and mirrors when someone briskly pushed or, rather, shoved me into it. Then I heard the clicking sound of the door being secured by its lock.
Trepidation instantly filled me.
Chapter 19
Isobel
“What the fuck did I ever do to you to earn such disrespect, Isobel?” The loud, screeching question echoed in the room, making me immediately still before spinning around to finally face him.
“Disrespect? Aren’t you being a bit overdramatic?” I hadn’t meant to be spiteful, but he had purposely ignored me earlier, and now he had the gall to throw such weighty subjects. I simply wouldn’t have it.
My comment infuriated him further, so much so that I could see veins on the side of his head as he ground his teeth together. “Dramatic? You’re here with my best friend! Have you no decorum at all?”
“Oh, I have plenty, but I didn’t deem it a necessity when dealing with the likes of you!” I spat back at him. I was so enraged that I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash before I clawed his eyes out. If he wanted to play dirty—well, let’s have a go at it, shall we?
