Page 53 of Ungodly Rich

“Jules! That’s awesome!” Harry sounded maddeningly relaxed, not out of breath at all.

“It wasn’t a big piece, but still. I’ll get my first commission.” It was a giclée geometric print, small but beautiful. The sort of thing Julia dreamed of buying for a home office, if she could ever afford it.

Shewouldbe able to afford it once she married Harry, she thought. The realization made her feel strange.

Julia paused, staring up at her footholds, then tried to swing around like a barn door to grab one of them. Her hand scrabbled into empty air.

There was a split-second delay before Bianca tugged at the belay line and the harness caught her, slack tightening around Julia’s waist like a seat belt in a car crash. Harry watched, slightly tense, until she regained her footing.

“Speaking of work, some of the other girls from the gallery go to trivia on Wednesdays with their boyfriends,” Julia panted, trying not to sound as though her heart was racing. “I was thinking we could go next week?”

“I’ll pass, but you should absolutely go.” Harry cast her one last look, then started climbing upward again. “Trivia isn’t really my thing.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“No.” Harry’s voice sounded oddly strained as he replied. “My domain is the physical. Athleticism, competition.”

“Mydomain?” she echoed, teasing. “Are you quotingThe Lion King? Everything the light touches is your kingdom?”

“I should have said, being smart is not my thing.” Harry was too far ahead for Julia to see him, but she could picture the self-conscious smile on his face. The same one he wore when Julia was doing the Sunday crossword or started rambling about an obscure artist.

“You are smarter than you give yourself credit for,” Julia said softly, a bit resentful of Harry’s parents. As far as she could tell, Bruce and Tara had done this to Harry—to all of their children, really, by trying to fit each child into a box. She’d heard them on Olympus, praising Alina for being so smart, or telling Hector how creative and thoughtful he was.

Where else did that leave Harry except to think of himself as the wild one? The son who played contact sports and probably got into his fair share of fights at school?

“Anyway,” she added, “trivia may not be your thing, but games totally are.”

“Games?”

They were nearing the top. Unlike at most gyms, there was a true ledge here, several feet deep, where climbers could pause to catch their breath. Julia hauled herself up to sit next to Harry, her ponytail damp on the back of her neck.

“Yes, games,” she insisted. “Playfulness, obstacles, competition—it’s all part of trivia, the same way that it’s part of basketball, or rock climbing. I think you’d like it.”

Harry sat with that for a moment. “You really think my thing isn’t war, it’s games?”

“Who said anything about war?” Julia asked, confused. Where had that come from?

“I meant competition.”

Julia shook her head. “I don’t know why you’re fixated on athingat all. You don’t need to commit to any single definition of yourself, Harry. You can be many things at once.”

He looked over at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “Like how you’re brilliant and sexy at once?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she teased.

They lingered for a moment longer, staring down at the empty gym. “This is nice,” Julia heard herself say. “It feels a little like the old days.”

Harry must have heard something in her tone, because he looked at her with concern. “Do you miss Queenstown?”

“No, I love New York,” Julia assured him.

She felt nostalgic for the way their life used to be—easy, uncomplicated. Just the two of them laughing and making love and planning their next adventure. Without thinking, she let out a soft, almost wistful breath.

“What is it, Jules?” Harry asked.

It’s your family,she longed to say,andyour money, andthe world you grew up in. I don’t want any of it to come between us.

“I feel overwhelmed,” she admitted. “The engagement party is so soon, and now we’re deep in all the wedding planning, too. It’s just…a lot.”