Joseph Loves Juliette: A Masterson Novella

by Lang Blakeney, Lisa

  I didn’t mind the job, but I don’t hurt women–especially pregnant ones, so I knew I’d have to be creative about it. It was my first job, my first “fix” for Jack, and I needed to make sure that it was done just right. No mess.

  I decided to follow her for a couple of days, observing her patterns, watching what stores she frequented, the company that she kept–and then I figured it out. Her Achilles heel was what it is for most of us–family.

  She had a younger brother who apparently was the apple of her entire family’s eye. A golden child. The two of us were around the same age, but he was in medical school, and planning on being a specialized surgeon. I knew that hurting him just a little bit would scare her more than anything.

  He made it easy though. He was a pompous, arrogant, know-it-all who needed a lesson in basic manners. I overheard him as he rudely rushed an older woman who in his opinion was taking too long to check out of the supermarket.

  She was couponing, probably on a fixed budget, and she was somebody’s damn mama. He didn’t need to talk to her like that. It was a real bitch move, him embarrassing that sweet old lady in the market that day, and it rubbed me completely the wrong way. So I took a lot of pleasure in beating his ass right in front of his pregnant sister.

  The receptionist was my first “fix” for Jack, and I’ll always remember her. She was tough as hell, and held out until the bitter end. I almost had to snap a few of those kid’s fingers, but at the very last minute she acquiesced. A med student can’t be a surgeon with messed up hands.

  So she agreed to recant her public statement about the client’s cheating, drop the paternity case, and to accept a monthly stipend to keep her mouth zipped. All for the beautifully dirt cheap settlement price of nine-hundred dollars a month.

  No one had ever been able to negotiate that type of very one-sided deal for their clients before, and Jack’s popularity as a problem solver at the firm quickly began to grow. With his meteoric rise in the firm came my rise as well and because of that one opportunity, I will never have to see the inside of a mailroom again.

  “Where exactly are we going?” I ask my boss.

  “This is my first time getting an invite to this holiday party, so let me warn you now, they must want something, and most likely it’s to hire me aka you to fix something for them.”

  “I thought I was your best kept secret.”

  “Not from them.”

  “Who’s them?”

  “The Hill Family. Family full of lawyers who think they’re way more important than they really are, but even I admit that they are well connected in the tri-state area. So I have to play the game. Act like I give a shit about this party and them when I don’t.”

  “Understood.”

  When we arrive in front of the large colonial home, in the suburb of Penn Washington of all places, I can’t believe my luck.

  What are the fucking chances?

  It’s her house.

  Juliette.

  The beautiful teenaged girl, who I fell for in one fleeting afternoon, lived here years ago. I wonder if she still lives here now?

  I was meeting a friend who worked in the cafeteria at her high school. He owed me four hundred dollars for covering his rent the month before, and I was coming to collect. Our meeting was brief. He gave me my money and I was on my way back to my car, when I overheard a conversation between Juliette and a guy that I could only assume was her boyfriend.

  Where I’m from, you don’t talk to girls like that unless you have a real good reason. We don’t even treat our neighborhood sluts the way that he treated Juliette that day. He let his friends watch them have sex and it was her first time?

  I didn’t even know her, but I was immediately proud of the way that she was standing up to him, calling him on his shit, and doing it in front of half the damn student body. But then he took it too far. Saying out loud, to anyone who would listen, that beautiful girl gave him a disease?

  That girl?

  The girl who probably has fairies and butterflies shooting out of her asshole because she’s so sweet?

  There was no way in hell.

  And then when she ran away, tears streaming down her face, something in me snapped.

  So I kicked his ass.

  And I did it willingly and joyfully.

  I also dared every one of those soft ass friends of his to say one word about it, or I promised that I would come back for each and every one of them, every single day, until I had dealt with the entire fucking team.

  I meant that shit.

  And I think they took me for my word.

  No one did a thing about it.

  This girl had the power to make me do things that I’d never done before. I’d never fought over a girl. I never met one that inspired such a reaction out of me. The feeling was new to me–a foreign and almost frightening experience. Yet it was one of the most memorable afternoons of my life.

  I drove Juliette home and we talked about all kinds of things that I didn’t normally talk about with anyone: politics, television, the internet, cell phones, music. I revealed so much to her during that long ride home. Things that I’d never shared with anyone.

  I fell hard for her that day, but I’m the first to admit that my dick was doing all the thinking–not my brain. Because as soon as I pulled up in front of that pristine, colonial, five-bedroom house–the one that we’re in front of right now.

  It hit me.

  We were from two completely different worlds.

  This would never work.

  I could never be who she needed. Who she deserved.

  So I dropped her off, and promised that I would call, but I never did and the plan was that I never would.

  Yet here we fucking are.

  Juliette

  I’m dressed in a body skimming red cocktail gown that drops dangerously low in the back with red heels. I promised my mother that I would dress for the occasion, and honestly I don’t mind getting dolled up for her holiday party. It’s the only time of year that I actually wear something semiformal. Most of the time I’m in workout clothes (because I’m a gym rat) or jeans.

  “You look amazing, darling,” my father says.

  “Thanks, daddy.”

  “Nice lipstick,” my mother comments. “Where’d you get that shade?”

  “It’s by MAC.”

  “Never heard of them.”

  “You have to walk away from the Estee Lauder counter once in a while and check out some other product lines,” I snicker. “Everyone wears MAC now.”

  “Can you help me go over a few things with the caterer, Juliette? They’re short on staff at the last minute, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to help them out a little tonight. You’re so good at getting the little details of this event right every time.”

  “Sure, mom. It’s fun. I’ll do it.”

  “I’m so relived that the weather held up. We should get a good turnout.”

  “You always get a good turnout.”

  “Your father mentioned that Chandler was coming tonight?”

  “You know him too?”

  Surprise. Surprise.

  “He helped Sally’s son pass the bar.”

  “Mom, I think you should know that I’m having second thoughts about the whole law thing.”

  “What do you mean, Juliette?” she asks as she counts the number of wine glasses and champagne flutes that are clean. “Who has second thoughts about being a lawyer when they’re finished the hard part?”

  “I’m thinking that law school and passing the bar were difficult for me, because it’s not really what I’m supposed to be doing.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s what we do.”

  “You don’t do it.”

  She stops rinsing out flutes and looks up at me.

  “Your grandfather didn’t believe in handouts as he put it. He wouldn’t give your father a dime to pay for his education. So I worked as a secretary to put your dad through law school, so that I’d have the luxury
of staying at home and raising my family when the time came,” she states defensively.

  “I know the story, mom. I’m just saying that you weren’t a lawyer and you’re just fine. You’re happy and fulfilled.”

  “You don’t think you could have figured that out six years ago? What about all of your schooling? All of the money we paid? Are you just going to throw it all away?”

  She’s right.

  It would be crazy to start all over again.

  “Maybe Chandler can give you some advice on getting back on track or finding a type of law that you’d like to practice. You don’t have to work in the courts like your brothers or your father. Maybe you just have to find your niche.”

  My father peeps his head in the door.

  “Chandler’s here.”

  Right on cue.

  “Go out there with an open mind, Juliette. He’s a nice boy.”

  Chandler is a nice guy. Handsome, smart and friendly. Definitely a well raised man. If he has one flaw it seems to be that he’s a little intimidated by my family, specifically my oldest brothers, but that’s ok. I’m not trying to marry the guy. I just need a little help passing the bar. I could at least try to pass the thing, before I make any final decisions about my law career.

  Then the ground shifts.

  I’m talking to him about my law school escapades and forcing myself to laugh at one of his corny “law jokes” when I see the last person on earth I’d expect to ever see again walk through my front door.

  It’s him.

  It’s Joseph.

  He’s dressed in a suit that fits him like a glove, and he walks through the threshold of my house side by side with a man that I’ve seen before. Both of them strutting in like they own the place.

  “Your honor,” the man says to my father.

  “Jack.”

  Oh, now I know who he is. He’s the infamous Jack Mills. I’ve heard my brothers mention him and his practice before.

  “This is the guy I was telling you about, Mr. Hill. This is Joseph.”

  “Nice to meet you, Joe. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you.”

  “Likewise.”

  Wow, he looks incredible. While he is pretty much the same height as he was years ago (tall as hell), his body has filled out in almost every single place you can think of.

  His biceps, shoulders, and thighs are all larger and more defined than I remember. His hair is neatly coiffed but his eyes…they are still dark and dangerous and fixated directly on me.

  The oxygen in the room seems to evaporate.

  I can’t breathe.

  What do I say to this man?

  What do I say to someone who makes me feel seventeen again? The person who made me feel so beautiful on my darkest day, but then disappeared like a puff of smoke.

  You say nothing, Juliette.

  You go reheat the platter of crab puffs in the kitchen and forget about him.

  “Excuse me, Chandler. I need to check on something for dinner.”

  “Of course.”

  I make a beeline for my bedroom instead, shut the door, and start hyperventilating. My first thought is to call Karen, because she knows all about Joseph. I had to tell her, because it was all anyone talked about for weeks when I got back to school.

  Especially because every football player in school avoided eye contact with me. It was like having an invisible cloak of protection during my last days in that building. They were scared shitless of Joseph.

  Unfortunately though, those carefree days of us sharing each other’s secrets are long gone. After graduation we fell out of touch. Karen enrolled in a conservatory program in New York for the violin, and I stayed in Pennsylvania and attended Villanova University for undergrad.

  I guess I’m going to have to work through this chance meeting on my own doing what I do best–avoidance.

  Of course I may be panicking for nothing and giving myself way too much credit. It was six years ago. What if he doesn’t remember me at all?

  Juliette

  I hear a firm rap on my bedroom door, but I sit frozen on the edge of my bed. My gut is telling me that it’s him.

  He knocks again. This time the knock is firmer.

  “Juliette, open the door.”

  Holy shit, it’s him. He does remember.

  “Hi,” is all I say as I answer the door.

  He lazily rakes his eyes up and down the length of my body. Settling them for a moment on my hips, then the curve of my waist, and then back to my face.

  “Hi, can I come in?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  He enters my room and closes the door behind him.

  “You look amazing.”

  I look away and smile.

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you a lawyer now?” he asks.

  “Not yet, I still have to take the bar examination.”

  “I knew you’d do big things.”

  “And what about you? What do you do that you’ve been invited to my parents’ Christmas party?”

  “I work for Jack Mills.”

  “Are you a lawyer too?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Oh.”

  He takes a few steps closer and grabs both of my wrists.

  “I’m sorry about how I left things, Juliette.”

  “Left things?” I feign ignorance while pulling my arms gently out of his grasp.

  He lifts my chin with his hand, so that my eyes meet his.

  “I’m usually a man of my word, and I said that I would call, but I didn’t. There were reasons for that, but I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, that? Don’t worry about it. It was a lifetime ago, and I wasn’t actually expecting you to call.”

  I’m pretending right now. I actually waited months (until the day I left for Villanova) for Joseph to call.

  I even got desperate enough to ask a few kids like study hall guy what they knew about him, but my research was for naught. A lot of people heard of him but didn’t know anything concrete about him. No phone number. No address. Nothing.

  “Liar.”

  “What?”

  “It’s obvious when you’re lying. You have a tell. You bite the inside corner of your lip.”

  “I do not,” I protest.

  “Most people have a tell. That’s kind of my forte. Reading people’s energy.”

  “Well, you’re not that good at it.”

  He snickers.

  “If you’re angry with me, Juliette, just tell me. I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

  “I was never angry.”

  I don’t know how I missed it six years ago, but I notice that Joseph has a pretty prominent cleft chin. I can’t keep my eyes off of it. Off of him.

  He looks twenty times better than my late night fantasies could ever have conjured up. Confidence, dominance, and desire rolls off of him in waves.

  “That’s even worse.” His voice drops a few octaves. “That means I didn’t leave enough of an impression.”

  My mother suddenly knocks on the door.

  “Juliette, are you all right in there?”

  “Yes, Mom,” I respond nervously. I’m almost twenty-five years old, but the same house rules still apply whether I’m twelve or twenty-five. No boys (or grown men) in my bedroom other than my brothers and my father.

  “Chandler is looking lonely out here.” She imagines herself whispering through the door. “Get back out here.”

  “Coming, Mom.”

  Joseph has an icy look on his face and his posture stiffens.

  “Who’s Chandler?”

  “Just a guy.”

  “And why would you care that he’s lonely?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Is he your date tonight?”

  “I’m not dating.”

  His face quickly softens.

  “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?”

  Then Joseph slides one of his hands in the base of my scalp pulling me
towards him with firm assurance. My thong instantly become moist with desire in response.

  “I asked if you were sure, Juliette.”

  Before I can answer him, he slides his tongue inside of my mouth and my body immediately hums with approval and aches with desire. It’s the most intimate kiss I’ve ever shared with any man.

  In fact it was actually less of a kiss and more of a claiming. In just this moment, after all of these years, Joseph has claimed me. I pray he doesn’t disappear on me again. It might just wreck me.

  “I’m sure,” I say in between heavy panting.

  “Keep your eyes on mine when you talk to me, Juliette. I want to search them for truth, for lies, and for everything in between. I have never forgotten you. Not for one single second. And now that destiny has brought us together again, I plan on us getting to know each other a lot better.”

  He slides a hand inside of the slit of my dress and gently in between my legs.

  “For a very long time.”

  “Joseph,” I moan.

  “Let me make sure you leave this room with a smile on your face. You’re going to need it when you go back out there and give poor Chandler the brush off.”

  “But I have to go out there and talk to him because–”

  “I don’t share, Juliette.”

  Two of Joseph’s thick fingers slide under the stain fabric of my panties and in between my folds. I close my eyes in pure rapture.

  I’ve never been given this much pleasure before, mostly because after the debacle of my first sexual experience in high school, I shied away from anything physical with guys I was dating.

  Once it got to that point, I would find a way to bow out. But this right here and right now feels absolutely perfect.

  “Eyes on me, Juliette.”

  I stare directly into Joseph’s bottomless pupils as he continues to stroke my clit.

  “I’m going to make you come with my hand, and then I’m going to clean you up with my tongue, and then you’re going to go out there and give Chandler the brush off.”

  Every single word he just said turned me on so hard that I could come right now.

  “Are we in agreement?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Wrap your arms around my neck and lean into me.”