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I glanced up to catch him smiling wide down at his phone in my hand. I looked back down fast so he’d feel free to keep grinning.
“And who’s this?” I held the screen up and pointed at the white-haired woman he and his brother posed with. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall, but she was holding and drinking from her own bottle of champagne. Julian’s eyes crinkled adorably as he laughed.
Lord, I thought to myself, noting that I hadn’t seen that particular laugh before.
“That’s my grandma. Rosemarie Hoult,” he answered with a glimmer of pride in both his voice and his eye. “She immigrated from Germany when she was eighteen, and the first thing she did when she arrived was go to a baseball game. She said it felt appropriately American.”
“Sounds about right,” I said, already charmed. “I’m going to assume it was an Empires game.”
“Absolutely. She was hell-bent on learning every detail of the game, and her sisters were very much disinterested, so she went alone, and eventually, my grandfather spotted her. He was an usher, and the day she sat in his section – according to him – he decided he had to marry her.”
“Oh God, that’s too cute.”
“It is.” Julian crinkled his nose. Another new one! I thought with delight, mentally collecting all his new expressions this afternoon. “Needless to say, we grew up an Empires family.”
“And now you own the team.” I shook my head. “If that’s not the happiest story I’ve ever heard, then I don’t know what is.”
His expression faltered slightly. “Yes, well, there’s certainly a lot that happened in between, but ultimately, it’s a happy story,” he said, a bit less enthused than he was a second ago.
My expression fell as I watched all shreds of joy or excitement leave Julian’s face. Damn it, what did I say? I lamented Julian’s smile when it faded fully back to his neutral look. I touched my neck, wondering if I was pushing it to ask if something specific had happened in between to make this anything but the perfect American dream story. I touched my neck unsurely.
“Was there… something that – ”
“Tell me about your family,” Julian interrupted. The stern look on his face was my confirmation that he didn’t want to delve further into the topic of the Hoults. He took a drink of water. “You told your mother my name was Robin.” I was relieved by the teasing look in his eye. “If you’d like to explain that now, I’m all ears.”
I grimaced as I took my own slow drink of water to stall.
“Robin was my last boss. I said her name because my mom… doesn’t know I quit June Magazine yet.” I stared into my water as I wrung my hands in my lap. “She sees that place as my miracle job – prestigious, decent pay, full health benefits. So, I’ve been acting as if I still work there.”
“Why can’t you tell her yo
u now work for Hoult Communications? I imagine that would sound even more prestigious.”
“Well, because my contract with Hoult Communications ends within a few months, sir,” I said, enjoying the way Julian so hated that word from my mouth. He lifted his gaze from my lips to my eyes and gave a smirk.
“I’m glad you’re so pleased with yourself.”
“Getting reactions out of you is fun.”
“I hope you and Emmett never meet,” he said before going back to our original topic. “Can you not tell your mom that after this contract is over, you’ll be with Hoult Publishing?”
I let out a sigh. “Again, this is no slight to you, but I would rather not tell her anything like that until a contract has been signed, and everything is solid. She is absolutely paranoid and untrusting when it comes to me, and she leaves no stone unturned when questioning even minor changes in my life.”
I could tell Julian was confused because while he frowned only slightly, he was quiet for several seconds. I knew he had to be wondering whether my mother was just paranoid by nature, or if I’d given her some reason to be this way. I braced myself for a question about it, but instead, he changed the subject.
“Una Magazine is based near Columbus Circle. Is that close to where you live?”
“No, but I can take the D train from Broadway-Lafayette. I live on Mulberry Street. I’m a downtown girl.”
“I prefer downtown myself.”
“Oh? Where do you live?”
“TriBeCa.”
I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Of course. I’m sure you own entire buildings in TriBeCa.”
“No. Just one. But I have others nearby in SoHo and DUMBO.”
