L.A. Fire (37 page)

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Authors: Sarah Bailey

BOOK: L.A. Fire
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Again warmth flooded through me, followed by another twinge of doubt and jealousy.
“Did you want Megan to live with you, too? Or did you just give her the key for
convenience?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I instantly regretted
them. I just proved to myself that I was the one with the problem. I wasn’t
ready to let go of the betrayal by a man in my past. I was still making Julian
pay for Rob’s mistakes. But Julian didn’t get angry. I saw patience and
understanding register on his face, and then his eyes coaxed mine to meet his.
When our eyes locked, he peered deep into mine, his gaze full of honesty and
earnestness.

 

 
“I never asked Megan to live with me,” he said, stroking my cheek. “In fact,
I’ve never asked any woman to live with me before. This is a first for me,
Sarah. It just feels right.”

 

 
My throat tightened again, and this time I couldn’t keep the tears from welling
up. Julian saw them, and his eyes filled with tenderness. He kissed me gently
and wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. I tried to speak, to tell
Julian how much he meant to me, but my throat closed up, and the tears started
spilling freely. Julian continued to wipe away the tears, and kiss me
fervently. My whole body started trembling, and he pulled me tightly to him,
caressing my back. His touch was so soothing, and after a while I regained
control over myself. I pulled away slightly, feeling embarrassed. The moment
was too much, too overwhelming, and I needed a break from all of the intensity.
I sat there for a moment just looking at Julian, taking in his perfectly
sculpted face and fiercely intelligent eyes, when I heard my stomach grumble.
Loudly. Julian chuckled and rubbed his hand over my stomach. “Someone’s
hungry,” he said. “Let’s get dressed and go eat.”

 

 
Julian found me a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, and we made our way downstairs
to the kitchen. As we passed by the breakfast table on the way out to the
courtyard, I heard a phone ringing. It was coming from my bag. Without
thinking, I rummaged in my purse and pulled it out. Julian snapped it right out
of my hand. “No. We said no cell phones this weekend.” He looked at the call
display and frowned. Then he powered off my phone and placed it on the kitchen
counter.

 

 
I bit my lip and shifted from foot to foot. “What if it’s important?” I said.

 

 
Julian’s eyes became intense. “Nothing’s more important than the two of us
spending time together.”

 

 
A moment later, there was more ringing. This time it was Julian’s phone. He
picked it up and looked furious when he saw the call display. “I’m sorry, Sarah.
I have to take this one. And then I promise I’ll turn my phone off as well.”

 

 
Julian answered his phone impatiently, and then walked into the courtyard. I
heard him listening for a long beat. When he finally spoke, his tone was icy.
“No,” he said. “Absolutely not. Everyone deserves a break. And this is
ridiculous. It’s nine-thirty on a Friday night. I’m sure it can wait til
Monday.”

 

 
There was another beat of silence, and then Julian said, “I said no, and I meant
it. You can deal with it yourself.” When he returned into the kitchen, he
looked angry and irritated. He powered off his phone, then grabbed both of our
cells and put them into a cabinet. “There,” he said, his voice decisive. “That
takes care of that.” Then his expression softened, and he moved toward me,
pulling me into an embrace. “Now where were we?” he asked, his voice taking on
the husky tone that always gave me shivers.

 

 
“Who was that?” I asked. Irritation briefly registered on his face, and then he
waved whatever it was away with his hand.

 

 
“Just business,” he said, sliding his hands to my waist. “Nothing that can’t
wait ‘til Monday.”

 

 
I nodded, satisfied with his answer. Then my stomach rumbled again.

 

 
“The girl is hungry,” he said, squeezing my waist. “It’s time she got fed.”

 

 
The rest of the weekend turned out to be exactly what both of us needed. The
next day we got up late, had a fantastic waffle brunch on Ocean Front Walk, and
then went surfing. I taught Julian a few of my moves on the board, and he
quickly caught on. He was too tall and muscular to get any air off the waves,
but what he lacked in acrobatics, he certainly made up for in sheer power. He
effortlessly weaved across the waves, taking their curls at difficult, dangerous
angles. 

 

 
Saturday night, Julian took me out on his yacht. We drove to Marina del Rey,
and walked down to his boat. It was big, sleek, and white on the outside, with
a beautiful marble floored living space below deck that featured a black leather
couch and an antique breakfast table. The bedroom contained birds-eye maple
cabinets, and a large eighteenth-century Portuguese bed. We spent most of the
night in that bed, making passionate love to each other. By now, we’d gotten to
know each other’s body’s well. We knew each other’s arousal triggers, we knew
exactly how close the other was to getting off. But we’d also gotten to know
each other’s emotional triggers.

 

 
Julian knew that deep down I needed someone to lean on, to take care of me, and
I now knew how important it was for him to feel that I trusted him. After
declaring our love for each other, things had changed. We were both more secure
with each other, more connected. And Julian opened up to me about his
childhood. He told me about his dreams about becoming a racecar driver. He told
me about the first girl who broke his heart. And he told me again how money and
power was only important to him insofar as it gave him the means to influence
the people who counted and to take care of those he loved. By the end of the
weekend, we were fully in tune with each other’s rhythms, and had significantly
deepened our connection with each other. When Monday morning rolled around, I
was sad our magical weekend was over, but I realized I was closer to letting go
of my past. I trusted Julian, I loved Julian, and he loved and trusted me.
Those simple facts, I decided while driving Little Blue to work Monday morning,
were enough to carry us through and make this thing work.

 

Chapter 19

 

 

 
I bounded through the glass doors to Cooper McGregor, and flashed Annabel a
huge smile. She beamed back at me and said, “Well someone had a good weekend.”

 

 
I winked at her. “You better believe it.”

 

 
When I got to my desk, I settled in, and then started sifting through emails
from clients. Right before I opened an email from Richard Phillips, the phone
rang. I answered.

 

 
“Sarah. In my office. Right now.” It was Paul, and his tone was so icy, I started
shivering. I quickly got to my feet and made my way to his office, trying to
wrack my brain for a reason for his angry tone. When I got to the door, his
steely eyes rested on mine for a moment, and then he gestured for me to close
the door.

 

 
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. I slowly
sat down, and felt a sinking feeling in my gut. Paul picked up a pencil, and
started tapping it on the desk. “One of the expectations of this job,” he
began, his voice so quiet and even it was scary, “is that you be on call at all
times.”

 

 
My stomach twisted with dread. I had a strange sense of where this was going.
Paul sighed deeply, then tossed his pencil back on his desk. “Richard Phillips
called early Friday evening, saying he was ready to sign with us.”

 

 
My whole body tensed up, and the twist in my stomach turned into a sickening
knot. “I needed you here Friday night, Sarah. You had his file. And he asked
specifically that you be at the meeting too.”

 

 
“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. “Julian and I– ” I saw Paul wince at the sound
of Julian’s name. “Julian and I,” I begun again, “had decided on a cellphone
free weekend.”

 

 
Paul’s brow furrowed in consternation. “When I couldn’t get through to you, I
called Julian and told him how important it was for you to come in to the
office. I told him Richard insisted that you be here, because, in his mind, you
were part of his potential team of agents, and he needed proof that you were
committed. Committed enough, as he put it, ‘to sacrifice your precious Friday
night for the sake of the job.’”

 

 
Paul’s eyes flashed with anger, but then the steely look I’d seen earlier
returned. “I told Julian my getting this account was contingent upon you coming
in, but he told me in no uncertain terms that you were not available.”

 

 
My mouth dropped open, and I felt my blood start to boil. I took a few deep
breaths, and then looked at Paul pleadingly. “I’m so sorry, Paul. I never got
the message.”

 

 
Paul studied my carefully, then nodded solemnly. “I thought that might have
been the case.” He leaned back in his chair, and picked his pencil back up
again. “In any event, we lost the account. Richard said he needed a team that
could accommodate his schedule, and your personal time obviously meant more to
you than your work.”

 

 
I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. Then a whole range of conflicting
emotions bubbled through me. I felt guilty as hell, and mortified that I’d let Paul
down. He had pretty much just told me he lost a client because of me. Then all
at once I thought of Julian, and a mix of range and betrayal started brewing
deep inside the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t believe he would do this to me. I
took a couple of deep breaths, determined to maintain a professional appearance
in front of my boss. I gave him the most penitent and apologetic look I could
muster, and said. “I didn’t know, Paul. I’m so sorry. It will never happen
again.”

 

 
Paul nodded slightly as he eyed me carefully. “I’m sure it won’t,” he said. “In
any event, what’s done is done. It’s too late to fix it. Now please get back to
work. I need the Samuels file on my desk before noon.”

 

 
I nodded quickly and got to my feet. I took slow steps out of his office, still
feeling in shock. But once I made it to the hallway, my pace quickened, and
without even thinking about it, I was flying toward Julian’s office.

 

 
His secretary saw me coming. “Hi Sarah,” she said, but when she saw the expression
on my face, she paled slightly.

 

 
“I need to see him now,” I said, and without even waiting for her response, I
burst through his office door. He spun around in his chair and looked up at me
pleasantly, until he registered the expression on my face. When he saw how
angry I was, his expression clouded over.

 

 
“You fucked up my work,” I said. “Richard Phillips. He didn’t sign because I
failed to show up Friday. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

 

 
Julian’s face became pensive. “You needed the time off, Sarah. Paul’s been
driving you ragged with work, and you needed some well-deserved down time.”

 

 
I felt my pulse start to race from the adrenaline flowing through me, and I had
to bite on my lip to keep from screaming. “You don’t get to decide when I work
and when I don’t, do you understand?” My voice was loud, and it crackled
through the room. My whole body was shaking. “How can I trust you? You know how
important my career is to me. Yet you singlehandedly jeopardized my whole
future, and made me look like a fool in front of my boss.”

 

 
Julian’s expression was grave. He got to his feet, and started approaching me.
“Sarah,” he said. “I was just looking out for you. For us. Paul had no right to
call you in late on a Friday night. He’s taking advantage of your strong work
ethic. He needed to be put in his place.”

 

 
Julian tried to pull me into his arms, but I pushed him away. “No, Julian,” I
said. “You’re the one who doesn’t know his place. You made a decision about me,
without even consulting me. Not even my parents would do something like that.”

 

 
I felt my lower lip start to tremble, and I bit down on it hard. “I can’t trust
you anymore,” I said, my voice shaky. “If I stay with you, you’re going to take
over my life.”

 

 
Julian’s eyes became stormy. “I was looking out for your best interests.”

 

 
I narrowed my eyes at him, and clenched my fists. “It wasn’t your decision to
make.” My breath shuddered out of me, and then I quickly gulped in some more
air. “I love that I can lean on you, Julian. And I love that you take charge in
bed. You anticipate my needs there, without me having to ask. You just know.
But that take charge attitude doesn’t fly with me when it comes to my life, and
my work.” I stared at him long and hard, waiting for a sign that what I was
saying to him was sinking in.

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