Truth & Consequences (Boston Latte Book 2)

by Fiona Keane

  “Miss Leary,” he encouraged my exit, his bright eyes distracting me. I blinked myself back to consciousness, taking hold of his warm palms as he guided me from the seat.

  “Thank you, Vincent.” Julian nodded at the driver, suggesting his departure. Oh, so that was Vincent. “Shall we, darling?”

  “No babby?” I grumbled, leaning into Julian’s side once his right arm secured itself around my shivering shoulders. In the absence of his taunting affection, I found myself missing the awfully obnoxious term of endearment that annoyed the living hell out of me.

  “No.” Okay then. Best date ever, Molloy. The best. Thank you for this. I realized Julian’s entrance was part of the agenda, allowing people and press an opportunity to gaze at his glory and capture the new, thrilling gossip of his relationship. Not wishing to die before he spoke to me, I latched my arms around his waist and refused to loosen my hold. His coat smelled like a damn cookie.

  “Mr. Molloy.” A man approached with an extended arm. “It’s great to see you, especially after the hearing.”

  “Mr. Hughes.” Julian nodded, lifting his left hand to shake. “It was intense, that’s for certain. Things always end on the side of the right and virtuous though.”

  “As they should,” Mr. Hughes agreed, his eyes drifting toward me. “And this gem…” Julian’s arm tightened around my shoulders, squeezing me in his grasp of death—blissful, comfortable death. I fell into his gaze, paralyzed with a view of his deep, expressive eyes that echoed lines of his blazing grin.

  “This is my girlfriend,” his stare fixed on me, “Aideen Leary. The best part about coming home after a day like today, Hughes, or any day for that matter.”

  “Ah,” our companion sighed with humor, “new love is infectious. I’ll have to introduce you to my wife, Aideen. Will you both be at the Senator’s dinner on Saturday?”

  “Yes. We will be.” Julian winked at me before his eyes returned to Mr. Hughes. “Is your wife here with you?”

  “She’s waiting for me inside the theatre. I had to make a call. I’d say by your attire, you must be here for a show.” He laughed, slapping his palm against Julian’s left arm. “It’s lovely to meet you, dear. We’ll see you on Saturday.”

  “And shortly,” Julian interjected. “We’re headed to the theatre as well.”

  I didn’t know what to do with my hands while at Julian’s side during his conversation with that man. I didn’t know anything about Mr. Hughes, other than he knew of the Senate hearing that interrupted my lunch with Liam and led to Elliott finding me on the street. Right. That happened. I wonder what Liam’s doing right now. I shook my head, emptying the irrational thoughts of his brother.

  Mr. Hughes released his playful hold on Julian. “Lovely! She’s been a fan of fairytales all her life. She’s begged me to take her to this show since she first heard it was coming up from New York. We’ll see you inside then, eh? I have one more call to make.”

  “Good to see you.” Julian nodded, securing his hold on me while his strides increased our distance from Mr. Hughes. Fairytales? Oh, this fucker.

  I didn’t say anything as we spanned the sidewalk and approached the theatre’s front entrance. A line wound through one door, but he guided us past the pile of people and directly toward a ticket window.

  “H-hello.” The young woman blushed from her plastic cage. “How can I help you, sir? Ma’am?” You can help me by not calling me ma’am and by taking your eyes off of this arrogant shit next to me.

  “We have a box under the name Molloy,” Julian confidently replied, waiting while the woman searched through an assortment of papers on her desk. She eagerly bounced from her seat, passing two tickets through the hole at the base of her window.

  “Enjoy the show!” She grinned at Julian, most likely devouring his naked body in the bowels of her mind. Like I care. I care. I do. Ugh!

  He grabbed my left hand and pulled me toward the carpeted stairs along a dimly lit wall. His footsteps were powerful, rigidly stomping against each step as he led us to the box. The stairs were empty, as guests already nestled into their seats. The box was contained by a thick, heavy curtain that was tied open upon our arrival.

  Julian released me so he could remove his jacket, exposing the world and me to the glory that was him poured into an expensive tuxedo. I shimmied free from the comfortable restraint of my new coat and folded it over the back of a seat. It was a challenge to sit in my dress, the fabric requiring multiple adjustments as I wiggled into my seat. The lights flashed twice, peacefully reminding the audience that our show would shortly begin. I was distracted from observing people beneath us by the sound of Julian settling next to me. His right hand fell to my thigh, drawing my attention toward him.

  “What show are we seeing?” I turned to him, hoping we could communicate as the lights turned off completely. I missed the marquee sign and placards, distracted by my festering frustration with Julian and our hurried path inside. I didn’t need his answer; his twinkling eyes and opening symphony were enough to allude to the fact I would be the one committing murder.

  “One of my favorites.” His eyes fixed on the stage, an arrogantly obnoxious smile playing along his mouth while the symphony played a medley from his tortuously favorite fairytale movie. I’m going to lock him in his castle and turn him into a beast if he thinks this shit is funny. God. Where is Liam?

  “You’re disgusting,” I grumbled, falling back into my seat and slouching like I didn’t deserve to wear such an expensive dress. Julian. He is so obnoxious. I take back everything misty I thought of him.

  “You’re irresponsible,” he replied, inching away from me with his left arm resting on the top of his neighboring seat while his fingers stroked his perfectly tender mouth. Oh, here we go again. I vowed again not to speak to him, but it was short-lived. I was mesmerized and entertained by the production through the first half and entirely renewed with fury as the lights flickered on for intermission. Julian stood, taking his social cue, and reached for my hands.

  “Would you care for a drink?”

  “Several.”

  His head shook while he hid a smile from me. “Let’s go. You can leave your coat here. There’s security around this box. Nobody will access our belongings.” Nothing on me belongs to me so they can take whatever the heck they want. Just not this dress, though—it’s growing on me.

  His hand found the base of my back, guiding me from the box and down a narrow hallway where we quickly reached an overwhelming crowd of patrons already standing with their flutes of bubbles.

  We paused against a wall, Julian quietly sighing before leaving me to access the bar. I didn’t enjoy being abandoned, left alone and vulnerable. My focus was on Julian, admiring how fluidly he moved through the crowd and interacted with the bartender, surely charming off her pants with his existence. Yeah, well, I live with him. Whoa…wait. I do. Oh, my God. I live with him. This is ridiculous! I’m sleeping across the hall and he won’t even speak with me beyond functional communication. My stomach burned the longer I watched his charming face morph into smiles and laughter, a sound I could decipher through the crowded space. It vibrated around me, holding me in its pleasant embrace. I stared like a fool, lost in a blurred emotion when his eyes locked with mine as he headed toward me with two flutes of golden liquid in his hands.

  “Riesling for you.” He handed me one flute. “Champagne for me.”

  “Celebrating another hour of not speaking with me, are you?” I swallowed the entire flute in one burning chug. “Delightful. I’d like another.”

  “What?”

  “I said,” my eyes narrowed at him, “I’d like another.”

  His laugh appeared as condescending as his neglect of me. “You’re demanding, and it’s entirely inappropriate.”

  “You know what’s inappropriate, pal? You’re being an enormous jerk!”

  “Aideen, this is not the place,” he warned, his smile fading into something fierce. “Please remember where you are and who you’re
with.”

  “I have no clue who you are.” I slid my fingers along the lapel of his tuxedo, as though my touch belonged there. “Just like I have no idea why you’re so upset with me tonight.” I looked up, caught by his deepening stare. Julian’s head fell against the wall behind us, his tongue gliding between his lips before he spoke.

  “I’m not upset with you,” he whispered with quiet exasperation. “It’s my dimwit brother who can’t follow simple directions. Don’t take Aideen on a fucking date and don’t leave her alone, anywhere.” A date? He turned to rest his back against the wall, avoiding me while we both processed his words.

  “It wasn’t…it wasn’t a date.” I blushed, my eyes drifting away.

  While I fixed my stare on the buttons of Julian’s tuxedo, I noticed his head quickly spin toward me, his neck practically snapping off. The fingers of my right hand, heavy with the binding sapphires, mindlessly spun around one of his buttons. It felt too natural to touch him that mindlessly, my skin lacking the trepidation of my mind.

  “It,” Julian grabbed my hand, freezing my movement, “probably was, Aideen. You can’t trust Liam. He’s ruthless.”

  “Ruthless.” I avoided his stare, enticingly aware of the smoldering way with which he observed me. “That’s an interesting adjective, coming from you.”

  “Julian!” a screeching voice cooed in the distance. His attention never wavered while his left hand caressed my fingers. The owl repeated its painful call for Julian two more times before his eyes left mine to observe our latest interruption.

  “Hello, Noelle.” His tone was maliciously fabricated. “How are you?”

  “Lovely.” Her bony fingers dug into his biceps as she stood on tiptoes to peck his cheeks in greeting. “I’m much better now that I’ve run into you. I’m here with my parents. I don’t suppose you’d fancy a drink with us once the show is over?”

  “No.” Julian’s touch tickled along my arm, then he intertwined his fingers with mine. “We have dinner plans.”

  I felt Noelle’s eyes on me long before his skin contacted mine, his hand squeezing securely around my fingers. Her stare may as well have spewed acid onto me and my nine thousand dollar dress. Julian’s head tilted down to meet mine, his lips slowly pressing into my hair. His mouth lingered against my styled locks while he deliberately inhaled the smell of his shampoo in my hair.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I confidently extended my hand to Noelle, but she simply scoffed at it. Poor manners. Definitely not meant to marry Julian.

  “And you are…?” I was relieved she didn’t remember me from the split second she witnessed Julian and I together at his uncle’s party. She wasn’t competition, and I didn’t even know where that term came from within my mind, but that lady was meant to be a squished bug beneath the tall heel of my fancy nude heels.

  “This is my girlfriend, Noelle. Aideen.” His head turned, still over-affectionately resting atop mine. “Please tell your parents I send my best. I owe her another drink, and then we’ll be returning to our seats. Lovely to see you again.”

  “Lovely to see you,” I repeated Julian’s condescending flattery. “Take care.” You skank. His head remained against mine while we watched Noelle’s painful retreat. She glanced back three times and pretended not to spy on us from the opposite side of the atrium.

  “She’s still watching,” I whispered, reaching for his full flute.

  “It must be your dress,” he responded, letting me take the champagne from his warm hands, his head still pressed against mine. “In fact, I think that’s half the reason why you’re gaining so much attention this evening.”

  “What’s the other half?” I wiggled from beneath him so I could swallow his drink in one gulp.

  “Well, babby,” he moved to stand in front of me, his arms caging me in, “that’s broken into another fraction. One fourth is because you’re with me. The other fourth is that people are intoxicated by how mesmerized I am by you tonight. Take a look for yourself.”

  “Babby.” I giggled, covering my mouth. Julian’s forehead rested against mine while his eyes closed. The return of his childish, annoying nickname for me softened everything. It was his way of telling me we were no longer ignoring one another—or that we could pretend to enjoy each other’s company for the act of our farce.

  “You’re unbelievably stunning tonight, Aideen.”

  “Part of the act?” I whispered, my gaze wide in anticipation of his response. His head shook as his eyes slowly opened, burning their bright blue flame into mine.

  “May I ask you something else?”

  “What’s that?” His voice was a hum while his head lifted and his caging arms dropped back to his sides.

  “If that hearing was as important as you and that Mr. Hughes suggested,” I began with slight trepidation, “why did you leave to find me?”

  “Because I ran into my brother, who politely informed me of a lunch date that delayed his arrival. David told me it was you. He also risked his employment by informing me that you’d been left alone. They both know better than that.”

  “I can be left alone, you know.”

  He eyed me with speculation. “Can you? If I recall, you’ve had attempts on your life, you’ve slept under a desk, or people whose mission it is to hurt you accost you on the sidewalk. So tell me again, sweet Aideen, that you can be left alone and continue to be safe.”

  “I despise you sometimes.”

  He brushed hair from my shoulder, placing it away from the lace decorating my chest while he responded. “I’m thrilled that’s changed to occasionally rather than constantly.”

  The lights flashed, informing us the second act would shortly begin.

  “You didn’t get your second drink.” He reached for my hand and pulled me along at his side.

  “I stole yours,” I reminded him, receiving his laughter in response. Still grinning, Julian placed a gentle kiss against my cheek. Heart. Stopped.

  “That doesn’t count. I’m taking you for a real drink. You’ve had an exhausting day, and I should be more sensitive to that. We’ll get our coats and go.”

  “But the show…”

  “We know how this story ends.” He winked at me and acknowledged an attendant standing near our box. How does this story end, Julian? I’m dying to know. He left me momentarily, something he perceived as a sin, and spoke with the attendant. I risked looking across the crowd for Noelle, not surprised that her stuffy self, and two other women, were staring down their pointy noses at me with distaste. I’m the one who lives with him, ladies. By force, but still, jerks.

  “Shall we?” Julian murmured behind me, his hands already spreading the thick, ivory fabric along my shoulders. I wiggled my arms through the sleeves, quick to tie the belt around my waist. Spinning around, I caught him capturing the final button on his coat before his hands slipped into the warm security of his pockets. With an elbow lifting outward to make room for my right arm to cling, he nodded for me to join him in our premature departure. Both of my arms snaked around his right arm, holding on for dear life as his impressively fast strides carried us through the theatre.

  Chapter Three

  Weeks ago, I feared for my life in his presence, and now my resolve weakened without it. Explanation evaded me. It was a mystery, he was a mystery, and Julian was protecting his secrets, hiding facts, and omitting information. Still, my heart softened. He opened the glass doors for me, and I was affectionately greeted by wind once through the threshold between warmth and winter.

  “Vincent should already be here,” Julian noted, reaching for my hand. “He’s parked on the corner. Can you make it in those shoes?” He noticed my shoes. Nodding, I followed his lead along the sidewalk in my heels, wishing I’d spent more of my youth practicing how to balance and walk in those suckers.

  “Before,” I breathed, winded from keeping his pace, “you suggested I can’t be left alone.”

  “Because it’s the truth.” His chuckle rumbled through the crisp winter air,
difficult to shake from my mind.

  “You leave me alone quite often,” I replied, brazenly contradicting his initial comment. “In fact, you’re holding up your promise of leaving me alone, leaving me wanting something from you.” Like information about what the hell is going on in the haze around me. Oh…and sometimes…like right now, part of me wants more because you should see how you look like the Bostonian version of James Fucking Bond. I could see the SUV, its red taillights boldly glowing in the cloak of evening while my thoughts ran rampant around my bubbling mind.

  “What is it that you desire, darling?” Julian cooed, reaching for the car door, his opposite hand holding my shoulder beneath his heated grasp. My wide eyes reflected in his, screaming at him with confusion. I opened my mouth, prepared to demand anything I could, but his hold was torn from me too fast.

  I was slammed into the pavement beneath the exterior wall of a neighboring building while I burned from the explosive cloud sizzling feet from me. My vision deteriorated into a blurry mess as my ears violently rang with an echoing scream. I could move. I wasn’t injured, but I was alone.

  I struggled to lift myself from the ground, my hands trembling beyond my control. I bound my arms across my chest, the only thing keeping me contained as I leaned against the wall. Where the fuck is Julian? What the hell happened? A violent breeze swept between my legs, freezing my exposed skin. Glancing down, I noticed the scorched strips of fabric that once was my coat…and my dress. My beautiful, bright red dress. The dress I was going to use to kill Julian with one look. That dress. Ruined. Torn along the front by smoldering scraps of metal from an explosion. Nine thousand dollars. Wait. Where is Julian?

  My other senses returned as the screaming in my ears settled. The air hitting my face was intense, melting my skin with its searing gusts. I turned toward the heat and caught my breath at the sight of our car violently consumed by inexorable flames. Julian!