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She laughs, the sound carrying into the Paris night. “And when I saw you walking down the street, I knew you had to be swinging a horse cock.”
It’s my turn to crack up. “You were right.”
“I’m so glad I estimated correctly,” she says as candlelight flickers across her face. She looks different tonight—all dressed up and yet completely relaxed. Almost like how she was at dinner with Zach and me. At ease. Minus the cock comment. “So when my bartender friend asked me to fill in at The Scene,” she adds, circling back, “I basically saidyes, now,andI’ll be there.”
“And that’s how we met,” I say as fairy lights in the sidewalk’s trees flicker above us.
She lifts a brow. “I like that version better.”
Translation: better than meeting over dinner with her father.
“It’ll be our new story,” I say, and it feels real enough. I’m acutely aware that our time here is make-believe. But if this is all we can have, I want it to matter. “Do you like your job? You seemed excited to work with Solange.”
Her face is a mix of emotions—intensity and passion. “I don’t want to show it in front of her, but yes. I’d love to be an EP someday. Honestly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
My gaze drifts briefly to a gift bag at my feet. Something I picked up for her earlier and want to give to her later. Assured it’s there and safe, I look to her again and ask, “Young Jules imagined being a TV producer? What drew you to it?”
Her brow furrows, like she’s contemplating whether she wants to crack open this topic, but then she must decide she does. “I wasn’t allowed to watch TV when I was younger.”
Oh. Right, Tate is strict. “Your father,” I say, wishing I didn’t have to acknowledgethatshared connection, but hating lies more.
“He said the world was violent enough, and we didn’t need to see more of it. Ironic, because Willa and I never wanted to watch shows like that.”
I sit up straighter. She doesn’t say much about her sister, but I’ve sensed they were close. “And once you watched TV you were hooked?”
“No turning back,” she says, laughing, then she leans closer, like she’s sharing a naughty secret. “I love stories. Especially visual ones. They just grab me and draw me in, and him keeping TV from me only made it more alluring.”
“Ironic,” I say.
“Yes, because we’d sneak out to friend’s houses…to watch TV.”
I laugh. “That’s hilarious.”
“Most of the time that’s what we did,” she says in a quieter voice, then her expression darkens, and like an echo, she adds, “Most.”
“You miss her a lot.”
“I do.” She shifts gears abruptly. “And you get to work with your brother. That must be great.”
She doesn’t want to stay on the topic of her sister, so I go with her switch. “I do. We’re very competitive, and we prank each other constantly, but it’s a great partnership. And he’s been immensely helpful with advice and such since Zach came into my life.”
“Speaking of my Captain Dude friend, any new pics?” She wiggles her fingers, beckoning for my phone.
“Don’t you just know the way to my heart,” I say, grabbing the cell from my pocket, ready to share. “This one came in today.”
I show her a picture of David and Zach jumping into the lake off a dock.
She sighs appreciatively as she studies it. “Do you wish you were there? I bet you do.”
That’s a tough question. “I do, and yet this is exactly where I want to be,” I say, meeting her pretty eyes as I answer.
“Me too,” she says softly, and moments later, the waiter brings our dishes. He sets a plate of herb-crusted salmon with sautéed asparagus in front of me. For Jules, a cauliflower steak. “From my list. Since I’ve never tried this before,” she says, slicing into the vegetable that’s been seasoned to look like steak.
She takes a bite and I ask, “How is it? Does it meet your expectations?”
“It exceeds them. And it’s extra spicy. Speaking of, do you still need to replace your chili flakes?”
I laugh, remembering that I’ve still forgotten. “I do. I will. I swear.”
