Modern Girl's Guide to One-Night Stands (21 page)

Throughout the next week, she had become a regular part of his day. Julia was the last person he spoke to most nights and often the first one he heard from in the morning. Simon found himself checking for new messages during work. It was strange how a simple chat screen became something more.

But as much as he was enjoying what they had, it was inevitable that their virtual relationship would come to a head.

She was telling him about the issues she was having setting up a shot at the Harper estate. She was doing a series of self-portraits against the backdrop of the abandoned house. And just like that, Julia slipped into teacher mode. When she started explaining all the elements needed to set up your camera and the importance of lighting, he got lost.

But he didn’t stop her. Simon loved when she talked about her work. He could almost close his eyes and see her on the deck of the boathouse, waving her arms about with a bright gleam in those smoky blue eyes. Then out of the blue she asked an innocent question that stopped him short.

Julia: Will you be coming to the Fourth of July party?

After three weeks of nightly chats, they had avoided the obvious question. When would they see each other in person again?

It wasn’t that he didn’t think about seeing her or touching her.
Christ.
Those thoughts kept him up at night and in a perpetual state of arousal. And as the Fourth approached, it had been the only thing on his mind. Their connection online was real, but Simon was afraid it would turn awkward in person.

Simon: Yes. Peter and I will be up on Friday. Our other partner, Matt, and his wife are coming up on Saturday.

He waited for her reply. Her delayed response made him nervous and he got up from the sofa to get a beer. Was she looking forward to seeing him? He was acting like a teenage girl again. But when the message alert chime rang he hurried back to his laptop, beer forgotten on the counter.

Julia: Well, I guess I’ll see you when you get here. I’m going to log off now. I need to get to bed.

Julia: It’s not that I don’t want to chat. I’ve got six dozen mini tarts to make in the morning for the party. I love to bake. I don't get to make stuff like this very often. I might do crab puffs. They’re Megan’s favorite.

Julia: Do you have any special requests? Didn’t you say you were a big fan of cherries? I’m hitting the market in the morning so can I pick up anything?

Julia: I know there’s a caterer. Megan says not to worry about it, but I love baking. I’ve said that already. Really, I need to get some sleep. These late nights have been killing my sleep schedule.

Simon couldn’t help but smile at her rapid-fire posts, one after another. He’d noticed the last few weeks she tended to ramble when she was nervous. Deciding to put her out of her misery, he replied.

Simon: Yes. I like cherry. Goodnight, Julia. I’ll see you tomorrow night.

He logged off and went to his room to pack a bag. Later, he fell into bed anxious and excited, like a kid headed to Disneyland.

For once, he was actually looking forward to his family’s yearly parade of wealth. In college, he went just to please his father. Later, he started using the event as a way to court clients. But this summer, his reason for going had stormy blue eyes that haunted his every waking hour.

Unfortunately, the next day was a steaming pile of shit. The New York office was falling apart. Kim called, threatening to quit. She was one of their top designers, and they couldn’t afford to lose her. The creative director, Charlie Filer, wasn’t in the mood to play nice. He'd been rejecting with no explanation every project board she put in for review, preferring to work with his original creative team.

To top that off, Simon was worried this was going to impact the final production on the Star Atlantic campaign. They still had two more print runs to do before they were officially done with that client.

They all assumed Simon was going to move to New York that fall and take over the day-to-day operations, but only after he’d finished up with his current clients in Chicago. It was looking more and more like he would have to move up that timetable. After scheduling a conference call with the design team in New York, Simon called Megan.

“Office of Magical Workings and Party Planning. How can I amaze you today?”

“Hey, Meg. I’m not going to be able to make it until Saturday.”

“So help me, Simon. If you skip out on this party, I will hunt you down and skin you alive.”

“Down, girl. Things are mess at the office and I have to take care of it. I’ll be there first thing in the morning, promise. Would you mind letting Julia know? I told her I’d be there tonight.”

“Oh? And when did you talk with her?”

So Julia hadn’t said anything to Megan about their nightly chats. He felt uncomfortable saying anything more, knowing she hadn’t confided in his sister. “You gave me her email, remember? We’ve exchanged some messages. She asked if I was coming to the party and I let her know Peter and I were going to be there tonight. I just didn’t want her to think… Fuck, Megan. Just tell her I’m not coming until the morning. I’ve got to get back to work.”

“Okay. We’ll see you Saturday. Just don’t screw this up with Julia, big bro. She deserves someone who will treat her nice."

Megan hung up before he could respond. What was she talking about? They didn’t have anything to screw up. At least not yet. But Simon did have every intention of changing that this weekend.

Chapter Thirteen

Modern Girl Tip #17: Let Him Down Gently—Even with careful planning things can go wrong. The best way to nip things in the bud is to be honest. Tell him you had a great time—even if you didn’t—but you’re not looking for a relationship. Period.

“Julia, why are we here?” Megan asked as she pushed the cart down the aisle.

“I told you. I need more eggs, and the chocolate I got yesterday was too sweet. I need some with a higher cocoa content,” Julia said.

She pulled a carton of brown eggs out of the case and inspected them. The recipe called for four eggs and if she was going to make eight batches she’d need at least three dozen. She grabbed two more dozen and a couple pounds of butter for good measure. You could never have too much butter.

“You know what I mean. There is a caterer for tonight’s party. I know you wanted to make something, but how did you making lemon tarts end up becoming the entire dessert menu? You’ve already made four different tarts.” Megan grabbed a bottle of coffee creamer out of the dairy case and followed Julia down the baking aisle. “Does this have anything to do my brother?”

“Of course not.” Julia turned around and smiled, trying to laugh off the suggestion. “What gave you that impression? I just want to bake and I don't get many opportunities to make tarts and truffles these days.” Julia held up two bags of chocolate and compared the ingredients. “What do you think? The sixty percent cocoa or the seventy-five?"

Megan ignored her question. “Bullshit.” Her lips pulled down tight in a disapproving frown and she put her hands on her hips. “That first month you lived with me, we ate pie with every meal. This is anxiety cooking, plain and simple. So what is it? Are you still angry with Simon and don’t want to see him? Or are you pissed at him for not coming last night?”

“Honestly Megan, your imagination is running wild. I don’t have any reason to be angry at Simon. Now the Belgian or the Costa Rican chocolate?”

“Denial, much? If you don’t want to talk to me, your best friend, see if I care. Get both so we don’t have to come back." Megan grabbed both bags of chocolate and dumped them into the cart. She turned and left in a huff.

Sighing, Julia trailed behind her to the cosmetics section of the market. Megan was wrong. She wasn’t anxiety cooking. She was just helping out. The caterer’s menu only had one dessert. That was not nearly enough for the number of people Megan said attended the party.

Really, once she started the tarts, it wasn’t any trouble rolling out mini apple pies. Or the cherry turnovers she made for Simon. And with all the fruit desserts, she needed something different. Thus, the truffles.

This had nothing to do with Simon.

Megan picked up a bar of handmade soap, bringing it to her nose. “Oh, I like this one.” She passed the bar to Julia.

The scent was a bright orange and smelled like summer. “I like it.”

“I hate the soap at the house. I don’t think my skin will ever forgive me.” Megan grabbed the four bars on the table and tossed them in the cart along with a few bottles with the same logo. “Now, are we done with your baking crisis? There’s still a lot to do, and Simon said he’d be at the house this morning. He might even be there when we get back. He was very insistent that I let you know he was still coming.”

A hot blush crept into Julia’s cheeks, and she looked away. They had just been chatting, that’s it. “I can’t think of anything else I need.”

“Good. Heddie had someone deliver the dress to the house. I’ll make sure it’s in your room for tonight.

The rest of the morning flew by, and Julia didn’t even notice the time until Megan came to drag her out of the kitchen.

“The caterer is complaining, dear. Evidently, he doesn’t like you directing his staff.”

“Well, if he’d given any of them proper training, I wouldn’t have had to tell them what to do.”

“Out. Now! You need to shower and get dressed,” Megan said and pointed to the clock. “If you don’t move your ass, I’m going to abandon you. My father is due any minute and I want to avoid him as much as possible. Although, seeing us in the kitchen with ‘the staff’ might actually give him a stroke.”

“It’s already four?”

Julia untied the apron and tossed it over one of the stools. She’d have just enough time to shower and get dressed before the first guest arrived. As they walked through the living room to the stairs, Julia took a quick look around. Megan had done a wonderful job planning the event. The catering staff had moved furniture and set up tables. It looked professionally planned.

“He’s not here yet,” Megan said.

“Who?” Julia asked, frowning. She knew exactly who Megan was talking about, but she wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of letting her know that.

“Don’t worry. After fetching you out of the kitchen, the next thing on my To Do list is to call Simon and bitch him out.”

Julia was about to deny looking for him, but Megan was already halfway down the hall before she came up with an appropriate lie.

Where was he? Last night was the first time they hadn’t chatted in over two weeks. The nightly chats had become part of her routine, and she’d discovered that not only was Simon melt-in-your-mouth hot, he also had a good eye and gave outstanding advice.

That morning, there had been an email, but she couldn’t open it. She didn’t want to hear some weak apology or tired excuse. Julia had had a lifetime of that with Luke. It wasn’t as if he owed her any explanation. And besides, she had plenty of things to keep her busy. But since they hadn’t talked, that nagging voice in the back of her mind got louder, telling her to back away while she still could.

She couldn’t stop comparing him to Luke. Like Luke, Simon was dedicated to his work. They both came from wealthy families and had appearances to keep up. The chats were eerily similar, too. Luke preferred to keep in touch via email and chat while he was away. Despite the fact she and Simon chatted daily, they never spoke on the phone.

Now that she was comparing the two, Julia couldn’t help but wonder if he shared Luke’s disdain for fidelity. After all, Simon had hooked up with her without any problem, and Megan had commented on his playboy lifestyle more than once.

She should be relieved that she’d figured this out before they did anything foolish, like jumping back into bed. But the ache in her gut wouldn’t go away.

She looked down at the dress laid out on the bed. She had known giving Megan free reign in her dress choice would end like this. Megan always hated the conservative clothing that Luke had preferred Julia to wear. She’d tried to talk Julia into a complete wardrobe change those first months, so it wasn’t a surprise that she went to the other extreme just to prove her point.

The dark red truly was perfect for her coloring, but it was outside her comfort zone. Julia wasn’t sure she could wear it. The plunging back and high leg slit were bordering on indecent. It was the kind of dress that screamed sex—
contents too hot to handle!——
and it wasn’t the message she wanted give off now that things were so uncertain with Simon.