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Julian moved toward the bar set up on the side table and poured a hefty jigger of alcohol into the shaker. She slowly made her way back to the living area and sat on a chair as he shook up the ice and gin.
“I’m only staying to answer questions about the charity,” she said primly. “That’s all.”
Julian nodded as he strained the ice-cold liquid into two martini glasses. He walked back to the table with the two glasses and handed it to her, their fingers brushing.
She sucked in a quick breath, then frowned and snatched the glass from his hand.
“I do so enjoy some silent sexual tension,” he said with a smirk.
Skylar choked on the sip she was taking. “You’re wrong. There is no sexual tension,” she said when she was done coughing. She’d lied, of course, but she wasn’t ready to admit she lusted for this man. She’d get the interview over and done with.
He raised an eyebrow. “What was that, then? That jerk? That flush that crawled up your neck?”
“You mixed a strong drink,” she murmured.
Julian chuckled. “You don’t lie well. You’ve reacted to me time and time again before you ever had a sip of that drink.”
She avoided his eyes as she raised the glass to her lips.
“Do you think about that night often?” he asked. His voice was soft and casual, but a hint of danger lurked beneath the surface.
For a moment, her lungs emptied and refused to fill again. The room grew fuzzy, distant, dim. She couldn’t think about that night. If she did, she’d come undone. “As I said, I’ll answer questions aboutEmpowered in Finance. That. Is. All.”
Don’t blush. Don’t blush. Do. Not. Blush.
“As you like,” Julian said. He reached into his tuxedo jacket and slipped a slim, black notebook out of the inner pocket. “In that case, what can you tell me about the financial health of the charity?”
She relaxed slightly. In discussing the charity, she was on solid ground. The earth wasn’t shifting under her feet, threatening to spill her into the arms of Julian Bauer. “It’s in excellent health. We hold fundraisers quarterly, which consistently bring in an amount well above the projections. People like the idea of helping the underdog. The Board has hired Embrette to diversify and grow the funds, and while there have been a few dips over the years, the increase in overall investments has steadily been on an upward climb. Embrette waives its fees, as does this hotel where we hold our fundraisers, so we’re able to spend a higher percentage on the charitable work than other nonprofits of our kind.”
He wrote steadily as she spoke. “Those dips? Linked to the financial industry’s ups and downs?”
“I believe so. Most years, at least. I’d expected a higher return on investments last year, but Mr. Priese, who runs the project at Embrette, changed the investment structure, and we lost a little. I expect it will right itself by next year, though.”
Julian asked a few more questions about the charity, all of which Skylar answered with ease. She grew excited when he asked about specific people the charity had helped, mentioning what he’d overheard her saying about Gabrielle.
“See, that’s exactly why this mentorship program is so wonderful,” she said enthusiastically. “While the mentorship program is designed to bring disadvantaged young women into finance, we hold our doors open for other young women who impress us. Gabrielle wasn’t interested in finance, but her drive, her determination, were what piqued my interest. And the interest of the Board, who saw her value right away. Without a support system, she might have fallen through the cracks. We became her support system, and with that foundation in place, she’s grown to levels not even Gabrielle thought she could reach.”
“Hmmm. Very impressive.” He stopped writing and gave her a long, hard look. “I have a question about your fiancé.”
Her grip tightened around the stem of the martini glass. How had they gone from speaking about the charity to Rex? She frowned. “Formerfiancé. We are no longer engaged. What does Rex have to do with the charity?”
15
After Skylar asked Julian what Rex had to do with the charity, he said, “You were speaking of Gabrielle needing a support system. Everyone does, especially someone in such a high-stress, high-power position like the one you hold. You’ve risen quickly to a top position in a prestigious international firm. You do an incredible amount of important charity work. I am aware that you and your partner parted ways a few months back. What I want to know is, who makes up your support system? Who replenishes you when you’re tapped out?”
Maybe she shouldn’t have taken it as such, but the way he was questioning her when he'd just admitted he knew she was no longer with Rex made her think he was taunting her. She felt herself getting angry. “What do you want me to say? You want me to admit that I have no one? Is that what you want?” With just a few words, this man had managed to unravel her carefully woven facade, and she was surprised at the emotion in her voice.
But she was even more surprised when his face softened for just the briefest moment. Was that . . . compassion?
I’m seeing things.
His voice was soft when he spoke again. “I imagine many see you and suppose that you don’t need anyone.” He swirled his martini casually, but his eyes held hers with startling intensity. “But being alone is hard. Trust me, I know.”
There was honesty and vulnerability and intimacy in his words.
It’s not real. He’s not real.
She averted her gaze and pushed around the lemon twist in her glass. “I like being alone.”
