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Damn it. I was already halfway sold before knowing I could use the time to continue my job hunt.
“What are you thinking?” Julian asked.
“That this is crazy,” I said, if only to remind myself that it was. The near stranger I’d almost fucked in an elevator last week, whom I’d spent the past six days obsessing over, was proposing to hire me as sexual bait for a couple of sleazy billionaires. The money made me want to say yes, but I knew I owed myself a moment to consider the cons of the situation. There were probably tons.
I just couldn’t think of any.
“Tell me about the job you quit,” Julian said, breaking my weak train of thought. “Where was it?”
“June Magazine.”
He laughed. “You’re kidding.”
I looked at him curiously. “I’m not. Why?”
“No reason,” he replied, the closest I’d ever seen him to smug. “But if I told you that I could guarantee getting you either your job back or a better one after our contract is finished, would you agree to work for me?”
I blinked.
Okay, this was one of the cons – the fact that this man was making such lofty promises while remaining a complete fucking mystery to me. I had no reason to trust him. I knew nothing about him except that I made rash decisions around him, and that he disabled my logic with just a look in my eyes. My heartbeat was never steady around him, and it always inclined me to do something reckless, impulsive.
So in what world was it a good idea for me to work for him? And in such a strange, sexual role?
My best bet by far here was to decline, invite him back to my apartment, and sleep with him for the first and last time. After that, I’d cut myself off before getting addicted. That was the smart thing to do. The right thing to do.
Of course, I’d established a pattern of doing very much the wrong thing around Julian.
“Okay,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
Even Julian looked partially surprised by the speed of my response, which had me instantly questioning my decision. But when he extended his hand and asked, “We have a deal?” I gazed at that slight but stunning curl of his lips and forgot to backtrack or at least ask a couple questions like I told myself I would.
“Yes.” I let out the breath I was holding. “We have a deal.” I swallowed the knot in my throat. “And in case you were at all interested, my name is Sara.”
His voice softened unexpectedly.
“Sara,” Julian repeated as he shook my hand. My pulse picked up as his gaze grew heavy, taking its time to look me up and down. “It was nice to meet you last week, Sara,” he smiled, sending a shiver up my spine. “I look forward to working with you.”
“Likewise,” I said, pretending to be casual despite the fact that I was still processing what I’d just done, and telling myself the same thing on repeat in my head.
You are fucked, Sara.
You are so incredibly fucked.
6
SARA
I was going to be late for my first day at the office if I didn’t stop Googling, but I was just too. Damned. Floored.
I
thought the surprises were over after not only seeing my mystery man again yesterday, but also realizing that he was Lukas and Lia’s Julian. All that was very much shocking enough without the bombshell that dropped during my cab ride home while searching the full name on the bone white business card that Julian gave me.
Julian Hoult.
He was Julian Hoult. As in Hoult Communications, which owned Hoult Publishing, which of course owned about half the magazines of my career dreams. The company was so revered in the magazine world that my former employer had consistently tried and failed for years to get bought out by Hoult. The fact that I now worked so closely with the man they fell to their knees for was exhilarating. It already felt like sweet, sweet revenge on its own. Of course, it would be even better if they knew, but whatever. I was no longer thinking about them anymore. I was thinking about the exciting new chapter in my life that had fallen into my lap.
And, of course, I was still Googling.
