“John, I can’t afford a house. I just want a nice apartment, maybe with a little balcony where I can grow a plant.”
“Whatever you like. Give Andrea the particulars and we’ll be off. She’s very efficient.” His chuckles followed her out into her area. “I enjoy our little adventures anyway. Maybe we’ll find a cat along the way.”
“We’re not kidnapping someone’s cat!”
“Don’t forget to clear my schedule. You know I’m particular about timeliness.”
“Yes, sir.”
“John.”
“Yes, sir, John.” She sat at her desk and brought up the day’s calendar. As she contacted each of his appointments to make changes, Juliana cautioned herself not to get too happy or excited. John simply regarded finding her a home as one more business deal. He sought to make it an efficient process so she could get right back to work.
Business.
It was not romantic when he emerged from his office with his coat over his arm and swept her away to the executive elevator. She hadn’t been inside it since the day of their kiss and as the steel door slid closed, she sensed he was remembering it as well. Juliana tried to stay as far from him as the small chamber allowed, but they stood side by side in the silence, the walls reflecting their rigid stance. Her heart threatened to beat its way outside her chest as she focused on the lights above the door, watching each number light then dim as they plummeted toward the lobby and safety.
Finally the door swished open and she almost tripped in her rush to escape. John caught her arm and steadied her.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, shrugging him off.
“No, I don’t think so.” He held out his elbow and, not wanting to be completely rude, she tucked her hand through it. “Neither of us is okay. And it’s something we’ll have to talk about, but, for now, let’s not stress.” He nodded to the security guard. “Good afternoon, Eric.”
The man nodded back. “Sir.” She watched him for a wink or any sign of disrespect but saw none. Had seen none as she passed his station every day in fact. Thank heavens for professionalism.
Outside, the limo waited with the faithful Olaf holding the door for them. She also hadn’t been in this vehicle since the day they went shopping—and kissed. A commercial car service brought her to and from the office. Sliding into the seat, she took in the luxury. Before, she’d been jet-lagged, hungry, and exhausted. This time, she wondered how, even in that condition, she’d missed the plush carpet, smooth, elegant leather, and minibar. But more than that, a table in front of her held a pair of to-go coffee cups and a single blueberry muffin.
As John took his place next to her, Juliana rested a hand on the cup nearest her. “Latte?”
“Two sugars, made with half and half. Two pumps of vanilla.”
“And the other?”
“Just coffee. Black. My usual.”
She rested a hand on his arm. “And you knew mine?”
He patted her hand. “Sort of. I knew it was a latte, but I called downstairs and asked what you like best then had them make it. The muffin was my idea.”
To his utter astonishment, Juliana pressed a kiss to his cheek before sitting back in her seat and lifting her coffee. He’d taken an entire day off work to go house hunting with her, had sent a car for her every day, and made sure her stay at the hotel was above and beyond any benefits he allowed any other employees. But what made her eyes dance and earned him a kiss? Such a small thing.
“It’s just a snack, Juliana.”
“It’s so thoughtful. Nobody has ever gone to the trouble to get my perfect coffee for me. And as to the muffin…I’m trying to avoid them.”
Crap. “You don’t like it.”
“No,” she said, squeezing his arm. “I like them too much.”
They pulled away from the curb, Olaf gliding through the heavy city traffic as smoothly as always. He wasn’t sure where they were going exactly, but the driver had the address of their first stop, texted by the Realtor, and John was interested to see what Juliana had requested in a place to live.
“You can’t possibly like muffins too much. You just eat the muffin. Watch. Want me to show you?”
“Look at me…do I appear to be a girl who doesn’t know what to do with a blueberry muffin?”
“You look hungry to me.” Picking up the treat, he broke off a piece of the sugary top and popped it into his mouth. “This is amazingly good. How have I never had one of these?”
She giggled. “You always ask for energy bars or those silly low-carb egg fake muffins they have, remember? Health food.”
“I’ve been so wrong.” Chewing a second bite, he shook his head. “I’m glad you don’t want any. I’m going to eat the whole thing.”
“No!”
He jumped. “No?”
“Last time we were together in this car, we went to Amie’s where we were served a lovely lunch. Tiny cute sandwiches, pastries…what kind of dip was it anyway?”
“Sort of an herbal thing. Very tasty.”
“And you gobbled every bite like a piggy. Even the baby veggies. Now you’re making a move on my muffin. I’m willing to share, but I don’t want to feel like every time we eat together, you eat and I watch.” Her lower lip puffed out. “It’s not fair.”
The girl had a point. “Are you saying you want part of the muffin?”
“Yes.” She reached for it, but he held it out of reach.
“Open your mouth.” Holding a bit in his fingers, he tsked. “No grabbing.”
“Come on, John,” she protested but folded her hands in her lap. “You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as a tsunami in the Bay.” Bringing the blueberry-studded bite toward her face, he waved it temptingly. “Be a good girl.”
“You’re crazy.” She watched him warily but in the end let him feed her. “Ohmigod.” Her eyes rolled back. “This is why these must be avoided at all costs. I could eat twenty of them.”
“You’re an enigma. Did you know that?” He set another bite in her mouth and watched her chew and swallow. “I really believe you like this more than you would a pair of ruby earrings.”
“I can’t stand rubies,” she quipped. “Now, if you had blueberry earrings, we could talk.”
“Mr. Felix, we are approaching our first stop.” Olaf’s voice shook him from his silly play with Juliana, and he suppressed a bolt of irritation. “There is no parking nearby so I will have to let you out in the middle of the street.”
And what a street it was. He reached for the button and asked, “We aren’t at the corner of Haight and Ashbury, are we?” But he knew they were. The building directly in front of them was actually emblazoned with the street names. “Juliana, you don’t want to live here.” It was a nicer neighborhood than it had been at various times in its history, but attracted all kinds of people. Some fine, some maybe not so fine. He wouldn’t get a wink of sleep if he had to imagine her in some little apartment over a store here with no security at all.
She had her face pressed to the glass, staring out at the scene. Hippies, yuppies, and goths mingled on the sidewalk with tourists from Downtown Midwest, USA and just about every other country in the world. The shops were geared to all those kinds of people. On every corner was someone with a sign begging for loose change.
“I’ve always wanted to come here,” she breathed. “This is a historic place.”
“Historic?” How long ago was she talking?
“The 1960s. Hippies. Free love.”
Were the 1960s history? Possibly. But, “Free love?”
“Sir, the address is on the right.” Damn Olaf, interrupting just when things got interesting.
John peered out at the building. It was a three-story place with a trio of mailboxes in front. Each flat must be a whole floor, then? Promising. Painted recently, it had the glow of a well-maintained place even if architecture was his weak point. He’d worked closely with one of the best when planning his office building, and therefore had a better understandin
g of high rises than historic homes. San Francisco homes came in a variety of distinctive styles, none of which he could ever name. He lived in a high rise as well. With a doorman and security elevator. “I guess we should take a look at least. I see Andrea waiting for us.”
He pressed the mic button again. “Olaf, we’ll let ourselves out, and you can go find somewhere to park or just drive around. We’ll call you when we’re ready to leave.”
“Yes, sir.”
John climbed out and extended a hand to Juliana who released it as soon as she was out of the car. On the curb, Andrea the Realtor waited. Her fluffy blonde hair framed a heart-shaped face, and she wore a wrap dress just tight enough to say “Look at my breasts,” or so he always thought. She’d helped him find several properties, though, and never took it personally when he rejected her friendly attempts to hit on him.
“Andrea,” he called, taking Juliana’s elbow and guiding her to the curb. “Thank you for coming out at such short notice.”
“No trouble for you, John,” she cooed. “And this must be your new assistant. I have some very nice places for you to look at. This one is my favorite, though.” As she led the way to the front door of the building, she rattled off details, two bedrooms, small balcony, big windows, one bathroom, great views. And it was a full floor. They accessed the top unit via an internal stairway, and Juliana immediately left them behind, heading for the front of the building with an eagerness he’d never seen before. He watched her touching things, like the wainscoting halfway up the front room walls and a sconce light fixture, and duck through a window leading to the small but lovely balcony. He joined her there.
“I can see your building from here,” she murmured. “What do you think?”
“I think you should look at everything Andrea lined up before making a decision.”
She faced him as a little breeze arose, sending her hair whipping around her face. “But I know this is the one I want.”
“Wouldn’t you feel safer in a secure modern apartment building? You wouldn’t have to worry about burglars or loiterers or anything.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” She leaned on the front railing, and he fought not to grab for her. What if she went head over heels? Was it sturdy enough to lean on? “This will be my very first place all by myself. I went from home to dorms to crowded grad school apartments to the one I was sharing in New York. If I can afford it, I want it.”
He mentally cursed the generous salary he paid her. “I don’t know how convenient it will be to get to work.”
She arched a brow at him. “I am sure it will be fine.”
“You haven’t even seen all of the unit.” And there’s no security whatsoever.
“Don’t you ever get a feeling about something? Just know it’s right?” She faced him, the sun picking up glints in her dark hair.
“No, and with your background and education, I wouldn’t have expected you to, either.”
Juliana leaned on the questionable railing again and he stepped closer, wanting to make sure she was safe. “I don’t, normally. But look at this beautiful place. All the built-ins and things. The bookcases? Even if there’s nothing special about the bedroom or anything else, I could sit here, on this balcony every non-foggy evening and watch the people go by down below. I could order pizza from that place.” She pointed. “Or Thai from there.”
“Or lose your wallet to that guy there. The hairy one.”
“Don’t judge.”
He didn’t, normally. But the thought of Juliana all alone when some hairy guy broke in chilled him to the bone. “Okay. Let’s look at the rest of this unit then go with Andrea to the others she has made arrangements for. I promise I won’t argue with you about your decision if you will give the others a shot. Deal?”
She nodded. “Deal.” As they strolled back inside, Juliana shook her head slowly. “My boss in New York not only didn’t try to pick where I lived, he didn’t even know where I lived. Can you imagine?”
“Complete negligence. Want to sue him?”
“Funny. I have half a mind to send you back to the office and look at the rest of the places without you.”
“And make a decision without all this positive input?”
“Let’s go, boss. I want a look at that bathroom. Do you think there’s a clawfoot tub?”
Chapter Five
Juliana hung her new clothes and the contents of her two suitcases in the bedroom closet later that same day. She’d signed a year’s lease for her first apartment with no roommates, no crowd of schoolmates. It would just be her. Out of the half dozen locations she’d seen, the only other one that tempted at all was a houseboat in Sausalito. But the commute would have been much longer, and her days would be long enough without that.
And her heart told her to take the place by Haight and Ashbury.
John had nearly had a fit. She’d finally reminded him he was her boss. Not her boyfriend, her big brother, or her father. And he’d had no right to try to influence her personal decisions. She couldn’t allow him to blur the line, any more than he already had. In the kindest way of course. He’d have let her live in that hotel forever, she realized. Why?
It would be difficult enough keeping a professional distance with the attraction between them. The electricity. But he was far out of her league. The women he dated would be much more worldly than Juliana. Almost anyone was.
So…she had clothes and a place to put things. Her grandmother’s furniture and the rest of her personal items would be delivered from company storage the next day. She’d take her time shopping for the rest of the furnishings she’d need, wanting everything just right. Maybe some of the consignment stores the women at work raved about would be a good resource.
After John dropped her off at the hotel, she’d checked out and grabbed a cab right over to her new home. Without telling him, of course. He’d have fussed even more. Even her mother wasn’t this protective.
Despite his disapproval of her choice of apartments, he’d insisted on giving her the next afternoon off to settle in. She’d thanked him but declined his offer to come over and help. She was getting too attached to him and had way too much fun when they were together. She was a grown woman, his employee, and not his project or his responsibility.
For her heart’s sake, she needed to keep a sensible distance.
She was not going to fall in love with the man she’d written her thesis about. It was hero worship. A crush. A little bit of chemistry. She’d nearly asked him out to dinner to thank him for his help, but Andrea had mentioned her interest in John while they were on the houseboat and he was waiting on shore. The Realtor was the type of woman he should be with. Polished, beautiful, and about his own age.
The woman had even hinted they might be getting together for a drink later. Juliana could not compete with that.
Not that she wanted to.
Creeping out the window onto the balcony, she scanned the street below, trying to decide where to go to get a bite of dinner. And maybe a sleeping bag. Because, in her excitement, she’d forgotten she had nothing whatsoever to sleep in until tomorrow when her other things were delivered. At this point, she’d be sitting on the floor all night bundled in sweaters and jackets. While she considered her options, a sports car pulled up below, and a man hopped out. He wore a coat, and the top of his head looked familiar.
Was that John?
What was he doing here?
“Hey down there,” she called, waving. “What are you doing in this neighborhood after dark?” If he wanted to argue, he’d have to come up to do it.
To her relief, he waved back. “I thought I’d see if you wanted to go to dinner. Are you free?”
“Sure. I’ll be right down.” Scrambling back into the house, she grabbed her purse and coat and headed down the stairs. She still hadn’t figured out what to do about bedding, but perhaps they’d pass a camping store or something on the way to dinner. Maybe a Target. John Felix in a Target. It could happen.
She
grabbed her jean jacket from the closet and tramped down the flights of stairs, her aching calves reminding her she wasn’t used to the climb. It was sure to be good for her cardiac health, though. Outside, she spotted John leaning against a black MG convertible old enough to have been her grandfather’s. But it shone in the street lights. And the man himself, wearing a casual sweater and slacks, was a sight to behold. She wore jeans and low boots, so they couldn’t go anywhere dressy anyway.
“What made you come back here so late?” she asked. “I thought you and Andrea had a date.”
He opened the passenger door and helped her in. When he was settled beside her, he kicked the car into gear and zoomed away from the curb. Another car filled the spot with questionable success and a bit of bumper car action. John cast her a side eye. “Andrea? No, once you wrapped up your business with her, we were done. Wait…did she say we had plans?”
“Yeah.” They took a corner sharply, and she clung to the dash. “Whoa, no wonder you usually take the limo. You’d be dead in a week driving like this. What’s the rush?”
“No rush.” But he slowed as they began to climb one of the many hills. “I didn’t have plans with Andrea. She’s let me know she’s interested, and I’ve let her know I’m not. Beginning and end of story. I just thought you and I could grab something to eat and celebrate your new apartment.”
They topped the hill and started down the other side. “How did you know I’d already moved in?”
“I stopped by the hotel first, and they told me you’d checked out.”
“Aren’t they supposed to keep things like that private? What about security?”
“The account is in the company name, remember?”
“Oh, right. Where are we going to eat? I noticed a little Thai place down the street.” She was starting to get a little carsick with all the ups and downs of San Francisco taken in the low little car.
“My penthouse.”
Melody Anne's Billionaire Universe: The Billionaire Stands Alone (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Mackay Destiny Book 6) Page 5