“No, I don’t,” he said, his voice icy and clipped. “And I’d appreciate your interests remain within the professional sphere.”
Cora opened her mouth, shocked at the sudden cold turn. But before she could figure out any form of an apology, the car pulled to a gentle stop.
“We’ve arrived at the hotel, monsieur,” the driver replied, politely neutral.
Julian opened the door. “Good night, Miss Rámon,” he said as he walked off into the marbled lobby.
Nine
Cora pulled at her blouse as she watched the glass elevator doors open. A private driver had driven her to a tall office within central Paris at 9 AM. She was greeted by the executive assistant of the London office’s vice president. After verifying schedules and meetings, Cora was directed to the 45th floor where the first meeting of the day would be held at 10 AM.
She looked down at her watch. 9:45 AM. Julian Benedict liked to be early for every meeting. He wanted to be able to assess a situation or client prior to sitting down to the negotiating table.
Cora felt her pulse race as she watched the elevator doors open. She had tossed and turned all night. Although Julian had set her up in a beautiful suite in the same luxury hotel he was staying at, Cora felt like she had slept in a beanbag full of straw.
Of course the man had been ridiculously unfair to her. After all, he had asked her questions about her family and background. So it was ridiculous for him to demand she remain professional within their relationship when he had been quite inquisitive about her personal life. Yet no matter how ridiculous his anger had been, it had been genuine anger. And Cora was upset that she had caused that.
She never wanted an employer to be angry with her but she particularly didn’t want Julian to be angry with her. Although she hadn’t known the man long, she could see that he was a man beset with burdens. She couldn’t yet figure out if these were all professional burdens or personal burdens—
Cora shook her head. No, she knew now. After last night’s reaction, he must have some personal burdens that cause him pain and anger and even guilt. She didn’t know what she could do to make things right.
She had considered calling Trisha for advice but was worried she would be admonished for prying. Although a reserved person, Trisha was clearly very protective over her employer. No, it was better she figured out for herself how to make the situation right.
Just as she was mentally drafting an apology, the elevator doors opened and Julian stepped out. Dressed in a dark charcoal suit with a slim navy tie, he looked like a caged jaguar. He was a wild animal that could dress the part of a civilized man yet could barely hide the primal rawness that lurked just beneath the surface.
Quickly, Cora rushed to meet him, her folders and notepad in hand. “Mr. Benedict, I wanted to apolo—”
“Has Devons arrived?” Julian interrupted, walking at a swift pace towards the meeting room at the end of the hall.
“Yes, sir. And so have Mr. Martin and Abrams. They’re all waiting inside,” Cora said hurriedly, trying to keep pace with him. “But before you go in, sir, I just wanted to—”
“I want you to change the meeting with the Japanese rep from one o’clock to two. And I want to cancel with Klaus. Push him to tomorrow afternoon. I don’t want any meetings tonight after eight.”
Cora quickly took notes of his requests. But before she could make another attempt at apologizing, Julian opened the meeting room doors, greeting the waiting men.
And for the rest of the day, Cora found herself running between meetings, confirming times and writing emails while also taking careful notes. There were literally no moments of privacy between them. If they weren’t in a meeting, they were rushing off towards one with both of them on the phone dealing with their own set of responsibilities.
Every time Julian’s aloof and distant gaze fell upon her, she felt miserable inside. Clearly whatever intimacy Julian shared with Trisha, he would not be sharing with her. She had so envied not only Trisha’s respectable load of responsibilities but also her closeness with her employer. Cora had secretly hoped the day that she would be such an assistant was not far off.
But with every clipped word and dispassionate gaze, Cora realized that whatever chances there had been were now completely gone.
By about four o’clock, Cora found herself at another office building in Paris. This one was much more sleek with cool neutral colors and lots of metal accents. It wasn’t quite Cora’s style but she appreciated its modernity. They were there for Julian to meet with Francois Budoin, the fashion conglomerate of Europe. He owned nearly every luxury brand available. Francois was a very private man and preferred small, private meetings. So after a quick round of introductions, Julian entered Francois’s office alone, leaving Cora to explore the roomy executive floor.
After spending most of the day running around in heels, Cora just wanted a comfy chair to relax in. But looking around, all the seats were an odd assortment of metal benches or stools that looked more uncomfortable than standing in heels. So with no other choice but to walk around, Cora sighed and walked.
As she casually strolled, enjoying the short respite from incessant calls and voices, a flash of color caught the corner of her eyes. And it only caught her attention because of all the cool grayness in the building. Cora turned and gasped. It was a beautifully vibrant painting of blue irises. Set against a saturated yellow background, the thick blue and purple paint strokes shaped the delicate petals. The colors were almost loud yet the wilting flowers looked so gentle and limp. The colors were so vivid, the painting almost seemed to glow within the cold and gray office.
Cora almost wanted to grab the flowers and inhale their scent. She wanted to rub each thickly painted petal. The heaviness of the paint against the delicate nature of its subject made Cora feel an oddly sad juxtaposition as she gazed upon the painting. Next to the painting was a small metal plaque reading, “Irises, Vincent Van Gogh 1890.”
“Ah, your assistant has good taste, I see!” an accented voice boomed from the left of her.
Cora quickly spun around on her heel. Julian and Francois were exiting his office. The older French man beamed at Cora as he gestured towards the painting. “Does the mademoiselle have a liking for Van Gogh?” he asked, his voice warm and rich.
Cora blushed and shook her head. “I just appreciate how beautiful it is,” she murmured quietly. She peeked up through her lashes at Julian. He gave her a quizzical look. He must think me ignorant and foolish, Cora thought miserably. Quickly, she stepped away from the painting and bid Francois goodbye.
As they got back into the car, Julian instructed the driver back to the hotel. “I’ll need to change for dinner. And you can take a rest,” Julian said, not looking up from his phone as he checked his messages. The dinner tonight was primarily a meeting dressed up with exquisite food. But it was a meeting nonetheless and Cora wouldn’t be needed for it. “But be ready by eight to go out again.”
Cora was confused. “There’s nothing scheduled though, Mr. Benedict. You said you didn’t want anything after—”
Julian nodded. “I remember what I said,” he replied shortly. The car pulled up to the hotel. As he got out, he called over his shoulder, “Be ready by eight.”
Ten
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Cora asked the driver as she stared out in awe.
“Oui, mademoiselle,” the driver replied. “Mr. Benedict was very specific.”
Cora gulped and without further argument, stepped out of the car.
At exactly eight o’clock, the hotel front desk had called to let her know her car was waiting for her. Confused, Cora had come down to be greeted by a French driver who told her he was there to take her to Mr. Benedict. Filled with questions but unable to voice them, Cora had stepped into the car wondering exactly what kind of meeting she was going to.
As the car drove off, she heard the soft lapping sounds of the Seine behind her. Lights illuminated the richly ornate building in front of
her, making the whole place glow against the dark night sky. With large windows and beautifully sculpted arches, Cora was sure she was standing in front of some kind of palace or chateau.
Amidst her awe, Cora caught sight of a white-gloved attendant by the front doors, waving at her. Cora waved back and quickly headed towards the entrance.
The attendant smiled and motioned her in. “Welcome, mademoiselle, to the Musée d’Orsay. Please enter,” he said in a thickly accented voice.
Cora’s eyes widened upon hearing the name. She was in a museum? But as she stepped into the cavernous hall, she saw no one inside. Looking down both sides of her, she saw rows and rows of paintings with scattered sculptures down the middle. Yet not one person was to be found. Except herself and the attendant.
“If you’d please,” the attendant said with a smile, leading her down a large open space with arching glass ceilings. “Please head down this way towards the end of the hall.”
Cora could only nod silently as she walked down the spacious hall, surrounded by the most famous paintings in the world. With each step she took, her eyes grew wider and wider.
She had hardly had any exposure to fine arts growing up. But during her first year in New York, she remembered when the Museum of Modern Art had had a Free Admissions Day. Curious, she had walked in with no expectations of what there was to see.
Cora ended up spending hours at the museum. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the paintings. Each work seemed to chip away and reveal a side of her own self that she had never known existed. With every painting, Cora experienced a different mood or mentality. She had never felt such peace as when she had seen Monet’s water lilies or such raw passion as when she had seen Pollock’s splattered paint. A whole new world of breathtaking beauty and exhilaration had opened up for Cora that day.
And now here she was, in Paris, walking down the empty halls of a museum that held the world’s masterpieces. She could hardly believe it.
So engrossed was she in admiring the works that she hardly noticed the figure standing at the end of the hall. She had to tear her gaze away from a Cézanne to look at the broad shoulders and long back of Julian Benedict. He was standing with his back to her, admiring a Rodin.
If Cora had been shocked to find herself in an empty museum at night, she was flabbergasted to see Julian Benedict standing inside.
“Mr. Benedict?” she said tentatively. She stepped towards him, standing next to him to admire the curved and supple work of Auguste Rodin.
His eyes still focused on the marble statue, he said in a quiet low voice, “I’m sorry, Cora.”
Cora’s head snapped up, surprised and confused.
“I was wrong to have snapped at you last night,” Julian said, his eyes still taking in the sculpture. His strong jawline and long nose were so perfect, they could’ve been the subject for countless sculptures. But Cora’s breath was taken away when he turned his gaze upon her, his dark eyes warm and mingled with regret. “Forgive me?”
“I—yes, of course, Mr. Benedict,” Cora said, trying not to stutter.
“Julian,” he replied with a small smile. “Tonight I’m not apologizing as your employer. I’m apologizing as Julian.”
Cora felt a warmth blossom within her. Emotions she hadn’t felt in a long time suddenly began to trickle through her. How did this man have such an effect on her? “Of course,” she breathed quietly. “Julian.”
Julian’s dark eyes crinkled in good humor. He turned around and waved an arm across the empty hall. “Would you like a tour?” he asked, looking brighter now that he had gotten his forgiveness.
Cora looked around, still unable to believe she had all these gorgeous works at her fingertips. “Is the museum closing soon? There aren’t any people around.” A tour with Julian as her guide would be wonderful but she was quite sure they would be kicked out soon.
Julian put a large hand against the small of her back, leading her down one row of paintings. “The museum is closed. It closed about two hours ago.”
Cora nearly jumped at this information. “Oh! Then how are—”
“I saw you admiring that Van Gogh today,” he said, gently but firmly leading her on. “I had you cancel my plans for the evening so I could take you out to a late dinner to apologize for my atrocious behavior yesterday. But then when I saw how much you seemed to enjoy the Van Gogh, I decided to bring you here. I called the curator and asked if we could have a few hours tonight to enjoy some of the works.”
“You called the curator….” Cora echoed faintly. She couldn’t believe that he had called the curator of a world famous museum just so that she could enjoy seeing the paintings privately.
Julian didn’t seem to take notice of her stunned expression. “I know you seem to have a particular fondness for Van Gogh but do you happen to like Manet? This one is one of my particular favorites….”
And for the next two hours, Julian gave her one of the most enjoyable nights she had ever experienced. The man seemed to know everything about every painting. He pointed out beautiful detail work while also including historical tidbits and quirky biographical details. Cora found herself admiring Julian just as much as she admired the art.
And Julian quickly realized how bright and sensitive Cora truly was. Although her knowledge of art might not be extensive, her interpretation was perceptive and genuine. He could see how she found a piece of each artist to relate with, therefore making each painting a more intimate and personal experience.
As they gazed upon another glorious Rodin, Julian cleared his throat. “Tomorrow night, there will be a formal charity gala sponsored by JB Enterprises. I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me.”
Cora was stunned. She had of course known about the gala. It had been part of her agenda. It was an event that would be attended by socialites and business magnates from all across Europe. But she was no fool. She had seen the newspapers and magazines parading pictures of Julian with gorgeous models and actresses. She had assumed he would be attending the event with someone of the like and had a hard time believing he couldn’t find a date more suitable than herself.
“Um…are you asking me because of last night? I promise, I really do forgive you,” Cora said.
Julian smiled wryly, as if she had said something deprecating. “No,” he replied. “I’m asking you because I’d like for you to attend the event with me.” His body was warm and she could feel his heat surround and hold her.
Cora’s heart thumped. “Is it an event an assistant would attend?” She was quite sure she had never seen a picture of Trisha on Julian’s arm at any kind of public function like a gala.
Julian turned towards her. Cora felt like she could get lost in the man’s eyes, so dark and full of depth they were. “No,” he said, his voice low like rolling thunder. He brushed his hand across her cheek. A smile creased his own stubbled cheek. “But maybe it’s an event a friend might attend?”
Cora’s breath hitched as she smiled irrepressibly. A friend. “Yes. Yes, I’ll go,” she answered breathlessly.
Eleven
“I might’ve found a new trail. I can’t say for sure yet but I’m heading over to follow some new leads. It looks like Gloria Judson was in trouble with the law in Las Vegas. She hightailed it out of here as soon as the cops started sniffing around. I’ll keep you posted, chief.”
The voice mailbox beeped then asked if he’d like to repeat the message or delete it. Julian lowered his phone.
A new lead.
It didn’t surprise him in the least that Gloria had tangled with the law. She seemed like a woman hellbent on self-destruction. But what worried him was Karen. He could only imagine the kind of chaotic tornado that child had been tossed into thanks to Gloria.
Julian could feel the tenseness growing between his shoulder blades again. How much longer would this search take? It had already been four years now. He should’ve started earlier. Years earlier. But so much had taken up his time and consumed his energy, least of all being
JB Enterprises. He had let others take away his focus and he had gotten distracted.
Although Paulson’s message had been promising, he had had many false starts with Montgomery and had learned to keep his hope in check. As he pulled on his black suit jacket, he mentally shrugged away all darkness.
He would not make the same mistake again with Cora.
Something about her seemed to bring about a lightness, an ease within him and he wanted to enjoy it tonight. A smile played at his lips as he thought about her opening his surprise.
Cora stared at the large open box on her bed. Inside, it contained the most gorgeous gown she had ever seen. A rich jewel green satin, the dress shimmered against the light.
Earlier that day, as she accompanied Julian through his business engagements, Cora had wondered how she would possibly find something suitable for the charity gala tonight.
She had only packed work appropriate clothes. And even those, she had quickly realized, were quite below the fashionable Parisian standards the other European assistants and even receptionists adhered to.
Cora had been about to go downstairs to ask the concierge where she could max out her credit card to find an appropriate evening gown when there had been a knock at the door.
A bellhop had presented her with a large box wrapped in a silky white bow. Attached underneath the bow was a small white card, reading, “I’ll meet you downstairs at eight.”
Cora stood by the bed, freshly showered and in her soft hotel robe, as she gently stroked the expensive gown. She was almost too scared to try it on. It would undoubtedly be the most expensive item of clothing she had ever worn. But looking at it, Cora could tell it was perfectly her size.
How did he know?
Sucking in a breath for courage, Cora lifted the dress out of the box. Tonight she would be showing up to a highly publicized event on the arm of the Model Millionaire. She would be the one dancing and dining with Julian Benedict.
The Billionaire's Step - Complete Series (Forbidden Billionaire Stepbrother Romance) Page 4