Bad Boss by Stella Rhys

35

SARA

Julianand I had fallen asleep together a few hours after he had accidentally woken me up.

But I thought I had dreamed him sitting up in bed again in the middle of the night, the glow of his phone illuminating his silhouette in the dark of the room. I remembered blinking sleepily at him, and I could have sworn that twice, I reached for him and murmured his name.

But he didn’t respond, and for that reason, I was sure I had dreamt it.

This moment, however, I wasn’t dreaming.

“Julian?” I was foggy, already halfway panicked when I woke up to see him striding into the room in a grey suit, both his and my bag fully packed and set on the chest at the end of the bed. I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and blinked down at the time. Barely eight in the morning. “Where did you just come from?” I asked.

“The last meeting. They wanted to move it up, and I didn’t want to wake you. You were smiling in your sleep.”

“Was I?” I couldn’t help smiling again now.

“You were. It was cute,” Julian smirked at me. “But we have to go now. We have a flight to catch in less than an hour.”

My eyes fluttered. “Really? So it’s… all done? Everything?” I was so disoriented for some reason. Perhaps the lack of sleep, though I usually functioned fine on minimal rest. I sat at the edge of the bed, processing everything at a delay as I watched Julian move around the room. But he finally stopped to tend to me when he saw how very lost I looked.

“Get dressed, Sara,” he said, gazing down at me as he cupped my cheek. “I need you ready to go as soon as possible.”

“Is everything okay? Did you finalize the deal?”

“All but. Everything will be finalized back in New York.”

“Aren’t you happy it’s done?” I grinned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Very,” Julian answered, taking my hand and leading me to the closet. “But we can celebrate on the plane. We really do have to leave soon.”

I blinked at a lone dress of mine hanging in the closet, everything else apparently packed. I couldn’t help feeling strange and slightly thrown off by the unexpected rush, but when I glanced at Julian, I caught that devastatingly handsome smile as he knotted his tie. And suddenly, I forgot my worries.

“Okay,” I said brightly. “I’ll be ready to go in ten.”

* * *

From Teterboro Airport, Julian’s car picked us up and brought us straight to his riverfront penthouse in TriBeCa. All he’d said as we walked across the tarmac was, “Stay with me tonight,” and I was sold.

The fact that he lived in what looked like a high-rise palace was just a bonus.

From the cobblestone road, our car turned into a private drive-in courtyard, stopping in front of a towering arched entrance, where we got out. A warm glow greeted us when we walked into the double-height lobby boasting sculptures and artwork more beautiful than I’d seen in museums.

“Of course this is where you live,” I murmured mostly to myself as I walked beside Julian toward the elevator.

It required a key to even move to the top floor of the building, and when the doors opened, they did so directly into Julian’s stunning triplex.

“Whoa.”

I felt him watching me as I wandered in awe under the twenty-plus-foot ceilings, in the nighttime glow of the downtown lights sparkling in from the windows. They stretched from ceiling to floor, facing north, east, south and west. The panoramic view alone pumped my heart with adrenaline.

“Meet me on the terrace,” Julian said, nodding toward a glass door. “I’ll pour us some wine.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Floating out onto the terrace, an almost tearful smile burst to my lips.

God. I’d lived in New York for almost ten years, and never had I seen a view like this. After my trip to Biarritz, this view was like a final reminder that there was in fact so much more out there.

Three times, I’d been stuck thinking this is it, so deal with it. The first time was in high school, the second was my freshman year in college, and the third was my backbreaking tenure at June Magazine.

I kept letting myself think that I’d seen it all, and I knew all my options.

Never had I been so wrong, and never had I been so happy to be.

“Enjoying the view?”

I turned to find Julian holding two glasses of red as he came out to join me.

“How could I not?” I asked, nodding my thanks when he handed me the glass of wine. “Please tell me you’re not too jaded to ever come out here, because if that’s the case, I might actually have to smack you.”

Julian laughed. “I’m out here often, actually. Generally when I can’t sleep.”

“So, what, you come out here in your velvet robe with a glass of Scotch and gaze out at Gotham like Bruce Wayne?” I grinned.

Julian smirked. “More like a pair of sweatpants, a book, and a glass of water.”

“Mm. That’s an even sexier image,” I said as Julian gave me a low, sexy, kind of tired laugh. Something about it compelled me to snuggle into his chest and close my eyes. It was quiet for a moment as we just breathed against each other, both of us exhausted, but neither of us sleepy. Julian was first to break the silence.

“I have a proposal for you.”

I peered up at him. “Hm?”

“I want you to stay home from work tomorrow.”

I frowned and pulled slightly back. “Why?”

“Because I want you to stay here,” Julian said, his mouth curving into a grin when I arched my brows in surprise. “I think I took a page from your book and developed a vivid fantasy while we were in Biarritz.”

“Oh? What fantasy?”

“Coming home to you after a long day of work.”

My heart practically sang.

“Julian Hoult,” I feigned shock. “That is filthy.”

“I’m aware.” His gorgeous lips spread into an irresistible grin. “I’m a bit of a sick fuck, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Mm, totally. So, tell me more about this fantasy. What am I…what am I wearing in it?” I asked scandalously, sipping my wine. Julian laughed hard enough to give me the eye crinkle. God, I loved the eye crinkle.

“Honestly, I imagined everything. A robe. One of my shirts over a pair of your panties. One of my hoodies – ”

“You own hoodies?” I gasped teasingly.

“Two.”

“Let me guess, one is an Empires American League Champs hoodie.”

“Correct,” Julian smiled. “The other is from my days at Columbia. Probably haven’t worn it since I was nineteen.”

“It’s weird to think that you were ever nineteen.”

“Not at all sure how to take that.”

“You just seem like you were always a wise, ridiculously handsome grown man,” I giggled. “So in some way, that was a compliment.”

“Thank you then,” Julian grinned, pulling me back into his chest, wrapping his arm around me and kissing the top of my head. Gah.

Another tiny thing I fucking loved.

At night, when we slept, we did the same dance we did our last night in Biarritz – Julian sat up reading while I lay next to him, our pillow talk winding down to a sleepy murmur as I slowly dozed off, lulled to slumber by the sound of his flipping pages.

Again, I woke in the middle of the night to find him still sitting there, awake and reading with one knee up and his arm resting over it.

“Can’t sleep?” I murmured, my eyes still half-closed. I felt his fingers gently comb through my hair.

“No.”

“Isn’t this when you usually go to the terrace?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Yes.”

I said nothing more as I waited for him to get up and leave, but he didn’t. So with a smile on my lips and his fingertips gently massaging my head, I drifted back to sleep.