After the Kiss (12 page)

“Ladies, how about a progress report on August’s articles?”

Julie stiffened. A progress report for August? It was too early. Camille
never
asked this early. She had nothing prepared.

Her panicked gaze flew to Riley and Grace, but they looked completely unperturbed as
they rattled off their initial findings on the growing popularity of threesomes (Riley) and twenty ways to rekindle the fire with your longtime love (Grace).

“Fine,” Camille said with a nod. “Julie?”

She resisted the urge to put a protective hand over her hickey. “Um, things are going well. Still in research mode, but I’ll have more to report next week.”

Julie felt the entire room staring at her in surprise. As far as updates went, this was the equivalent of “the dog ate my homework.” The only one who looked impressed was the intern from Alaska who’d asked for her autograph.

“And what
specifically
are you working on, Julie?” Kelli asked.

Julie’s eyes narrowed on the devious blonde, who knew full well what the story was.

She kept her face completely devoid of emotion. “Oh, did I not say? It’s about taking the relationship to the next stage.”

A couple of people nodded with mild disinterest and looked ready to move on, but Kelli the pit bull wasn’t done. “Oh, yeah? Had a lot of experience with that, then?”

Julie thought she heard Riley hiss from across the table, and she rushed to prevent a catfight, because Camille, she noted, wasn’t making any move to interfere. Not a good sign. “It’s not my usual area of expertise, but I feel more than equipped to handle the assignment,” Julie said.

“But it’s going to lack that personal touch, isn’t it?” Kelli said with wide-eyed innocence. “You know, I’ve been in a relationship for almost a month now, and I think I’m really in a unique position to tell this story from the inside out,” she added with an innocent glance at Camille.

Julie tilted her head at Kelli’s practiced little monologue.
Tell the story from the inside out? What does that even mean?
She glanced around the room to see if the others shared her disdain, but they were all nodding in agreement. Even Grace looked conflicted.

“Kelli does have a point, Julie,” Camille said slowly, an intensely speculative look on her face. “You’ve always been
Stiletto
’s strongest proponent of adding a personal touch to articles. In fact, I’d say that your unique perspective has really helped shape
Stiletto
over the years. Perhaps Kelli could take this one, and you could cover something different this month. I’m thinking it might be time for another shoes article.”

Julie took the smallest sip of her coffee and tried to calm her panic. Shoes.
Shoes?
She
was the
dating
girl, not a footwear drone.

“Oh, well, I’d really prefer—”

“Actually, Julie
can
add the personal touch to this article,” Riley blurted out.

Julie glanced across the table, widening her eyes in warning.
Riley, no
. If Camille found out about their plan, there’d be no going back. She’d have to see the pseudo-relationship with Mitchell through to a story.

And she was no longer sure she could do it.

But her friend ignored the silent command. “See, Julie knows better than anyone the high standard she’s set with her previous articles. In order to ensure this story is of the same quality, she’s doing a little undercover work so she can speak personally about developing a relationship.”

“Undercover work? In a relationships article? Isn’t that a little … tawdry?” Kelli asked with a sneer.

No more than that tiny skirt that’s one sneeze away from showing your hoo-ha
, Julie wanted to snap.

“Julie, is this true?” Camille asked, looking unusually intrigued.

“Well, that was my original plan, but it’s not really panning out, so I was thinking—”

“She’s being coy,” Grace chimed in. “The truth is, this guy is smitten with her. They’ve seen each other almost every day since the first date.”

Grace, nooooooooo!

Her friends knew what they were doing, however. Camille was eating it up, and Kelli looked positively livid.

“But I can provide a
real
relationship,” Kelli whined. “Julie has to use a guy for a fake one.”

Camille nodded at Julie as though Kelli hadn’t spoken. “I like it. We can call it ‘Undercover Girlfriend.’ Good work, Ms. Greene. I look forward to reading your draft.”

Mitchell’s steady, kind face flashed before her eyes, and she felt sick to her stomach.

“Wait, Camille!” she blurted out. Grace and Riley shot her warning looks, which she ignored. “The undercover-girlfriend aspect isn’t really shaping up like I’d hoped, and I was thinking a new direction, maybe—”

Camille held up a hand. “Your first draft is due in just a couple of weeks. And while I
certainly don’t doubt that you can pull something else together, it won’t be as strong as your original idea or what Kelli can offer.”

“But—”

“Either you can go through with your original plan or Kelli can cover your spot in this issue. What’ll it be?”

Julie felt something fierce throb at her temple. She wanted to rage at Camille, who was being completely bullheaded and unreasonable, but that was futile.

Her heart demanded that she step aside. Her career wasn’t worth the pain. Not to herself, and certainly not to Mitchell.

She had opened her mouth to concede when she caught sight of Kelli grinning broadly and already scribbling something in her glittery purple notebook.

“I’ll do it,” she heard herself say. “I’ll finish what I started.”

Camille looked pleased. Kelli looked constipated. Grace and Riley looked worried.

And Julie felt even more ill.

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, and when it was over, she nearly bolted from the stifling conference room, desperate for fresh air.

Grace and Julie flanked her on either side as they steered her toward the elevator instead of their shared office.

“Sorry,” Grace said quietly. “I didn’t realize how conflicted you were over this until it was too late.”

“Me neither,” Riley said by way of apology. “What are you going to do now?”

Julie gave a mirthless laugh. She had no choice. “Now? Now I pull out the big guns.”

“Threesome?” Riley asked.

“No. Movie night.”

“I think I made a mistake.”

Colin halted in the doorway in surprise, his coffee sloshing over the side of his company mug. “Jesus, Forbes, what the hell are you doing in my office?”

Certainly not catching a glimpse of Liberty Island. Colin really did have a shitty view. But Mitchell didn’t spare the ugly office building out Colin’s window a second glance. He barely even registered it.

For the first time in his professional career, he was camped out in a colleague’s office, waiting to get some advice.

“What’s this about a mistake? Did the Fox deal not go as planned?” Colin asked as he grabbed a tissue and dabbed the coffee off his hand.

“Fuck the Fox deal. This is about the bet. You know that ridiculous plan we came up with after one too many shots of Maker’s Mark?”

Colin grinned. “Of course I know the bet. The whole floor knows about the bet. I have a pool going.”

Mitchell ground his teeth. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to plant the seed. That way people won’t be surprised when we switch offices in a few weeks. After you lose.”

But Mitchell wasn’t thinking about winning or losing.

He was thinking about what would happen if news got back to Julie. Having it be between him and Colin was one thing. But the entire office?

“You idiot,” Mitchell growled. “Do you have any idea how fast gossip travels in this town?”

Colin shrugged as he plopped into his swiveling desk chair, immediately beginning to spin and reminding Mitchell of a troublemaking sixth grader. “Don’t worry, dude. They all know the stakes. And everyone’s been cautioned to be careful around Greg Parsons. He’ll turn around and tell Grace, and she’ll babble to her best friend and ruin all the fun.”

Even if Greg
didn’t
tell Grace, all it would take was one loose-lipped intern, and this shit
would be all over the gossip columns.

As if trying to keep Julie at arm’s length when she seemed determined to wriggle under his skin wasn’t stressful enough, now he had the added pressure of having to make sure she didn’t find out about the bet. A bet that had officially gone from being a spontaneous error in judgment to the worst decision of his life. He’d thought it would be a helpful reassurance that he wasn’t a docile, wife-seeking drone.

Instead it was a sad reminder that he was a complete son of a bitch.

And if Julie found out about it … Mitchell’s stomach twisted at the thought.

He wanted to punch the smug expression from Colin’s face, but he knew it would only be a deflection of his own guilt. Colin might have instigated the dumb bet, but Mitchell should have refused outright. Or at least he should have opted out once he realized she wasn’t some fluffy ditz who could be easily set aside when it was over.

Do it now. Call it off now
. It was the smart decision. The right decision. But that would mean failure. Not something Mitchell had ever suffered lightly.

And truthfully, underneath the guilt of it all, Mitchell wasn’t ready to let it go.

For the first time he could remember, he genuinely looked forward to spending time with a woman. With Julie, there was no suffocating pressure. No expectation that he always be “on.”

They simply enjoyed each other in bed and out of bed, and there was never any tedious thought or talk of what they were or where they were going. Hell, Evelyn hadn’t been able to go a month without sitting him down for a “compatibility check” to make sure they still had the same goals.

Evelyn. God, that night at the opera had been up there with every man’s worst nightmare. He’d half expected John Blake to come at him with a shotgun. He might have preferred it. Instead the senator had treated him the way he always had—like a son.

And Evelyn—he hadn’t realized how much he’d hurt her. Maybe he hadn’t let himself realize. Somehow he’d convinced himself that she was like him, going along with the relationship simply because it was expected. But seeing her again, with her heart in her eyes, had ripped at him.

Because while she’d been making eyes at him, he’d only had eyes for Julie.

Julie, with whom there was none of the garbage, none of the boring stuff. Nothing but laughs and sex and fun. There was never any sign that she was trying to wangle a ring from him
or turn his office into a nursery.

At least there hadn’t been until last night.

He took a deep breath and sat in the chair across from Colin. He wasn’t used to sharing confidences with anyone, much less coworkers, but he needed help. Advice.

“Julie suggested we stay
in
this weekend,” Mitchell blurted out. “For a movie night.”

Colin paused in the obnoxious swaying of his swivel chair. “Uh-oh.”

Exactly
. Mitchell had nothing against staying in on weekend nights. He actually preferred it. He hated crowds, hated “the scene.” He and Evelyn had made a Friday ritual out of checking out the latest independent film releases, usually with a bowl of healthy air-popped popcorn and a bit of olive oil. Evelyn didn’t eat animal fats, so butter hadn’t been an option.

But he knew what movie night meant. It meant that you were a
couple
.

Mitchell didn’t know which had alarmed him more: that the fun-loving Julie had even suggested it, or that he’d been aching to agree. A movie night with Julie wouldn’t have resembled anything he’d experienced with Evelyn. For starters, she’d want to watch one of those tacky, blockbuster affairs. And from the way she’d devoured her greasy fish and chips that first night, he doubted she’d have a problem with butter on her popcorn.

The prospect was oddly appealing.

Colin read his expression correctly and gave a gleeful guffaw. “You said yes, didn’t you? I knew it. You’re falling for this girl. There’s no way you can see someone casually without convincing yourself she has
future
potential.”

“I’m not falling for Julie.” He almost believed it. “And I said no to movie night. I’m sure she only suggested it because she thought it was what I’d like to do.”

Because that’s what she did. Shaped herself to be whatever she thought people wanted her to be.

Colin’s smile slipped. “So you’re
not
seeing her? Remember, the deal requires that you have at least five dates, but it can’t go past August.…”

“I know what the bet is, Colin.”

And we’ve already had more than five dates
. No need to tell Colin
everything
.

“So then what’s the problem?” Colin asked. “You told her no to movie night and she got mad? Is that it?”

“Not exactly.” As far as Mitchell could tell, Julie Greene didn’t do mad. He tugged at his
tie, which inexplicably felt tighter than usual. “I kind of suggested that we go to a nightclub. In the Meatpacking District.”

There were several seconds of stunned silence before Colin began snickering. “Dude, have you ever
been
to a club? You know they don’t serve single-malt Scotch and play Bach, right?”

“Yes, Colin, I’m aware. It’s like I said when you first walked in. I made a mistake.”

Colin was still shaking his head. “Mitchell Forbes at a nightclub. Oh, how the mighty have fallen for the sake of a broad. But you made the right call,” he said with approval. “This will keep her at a distance on the off chance she was getting the wrong idea. A woman like Julie Greene will know exactly what an invitation to a club means. It’s not exactly aperitif hour at Bemelmans.”

Mitchell winced. Had anyone ever thought Julie might actually enjoy having an aperitif at the classy Bemelmans? Or had they always assumed that she wanted glitter and vodka shots? Just the way he had.

“And on the bright side, you’ll probably get to go straight to the front of the line. Julie’s hot and she’s a regular at those places. She’s there with a different guy every week.”