by Laura Burton
“Emily, I would sound like a heartless––”
“No you wouldn’t. And it’s the truth isn’t it? If Ebony was no longer a problem, you would get back together, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know. Harry seems a bit too…”
“…much of a pushover?” Emily asked, her brows raised. Julie sighed. Emily was never afraid to say things bluntly. It was a quality she usually appreciated, but on this occasion the words stung. Yes, Harry didn’t stand up for himself. It seemed like the people who worked for him owned him. And during the attack, he didn’t even try to fight back. Ebony’s words echoed in her mind like the bells of Notre Dame.
“When it comes to it, he won’t fight for you.”
Emily put her arm around Julie’s shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out,” she said with a sigh as she patted Julie’s hair. “You look exhausted. Go to bed and we’ll catch up later.”
Julie didn’t need to be told twice. She trudged to bed and collapsed in a heap on top of her quilt. Her body had no idea what time zone she was in, and everything ached. She figured after some sleep she’d wake up with a clear head. But her dreams were invaded by nightmarish scenarios of exploding letters and death threats written in blood.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Who’s the man?
“Give me thirty more.”
Harry puffed as Jonas pressed his heel into his back with each push up. His biceps and shoulders were on fire, but he persisted.
“Come on, bro, don’t quit now,” Jonas shouted. Harry finished the final two and collapsed on the cold floor in a puddle of his own perspiration.
“Get up,” Jonas ordered. Harry staggered to his feet and surveyed his reflection in the wall mirror. The outline of his muscles bulged, he looked pumped. His glistening six-pack was rock hard, giving Harry a sense of pride.
Jonas slapped a hand on his back and whistled. Harry’s body was covered in faint bruises, and he ached in ways he never had before. But he didn’t care. He needed to man up and fight for the love of his life.
“Now, go and make me a protein shake,” Jonas barked. Harry looked at him with surprise before heading for the door, but Jonas thrust a hand in the way, the ripples of muscles along his arm were like mole hills.
“Wrong move. An alpha doesn’t let anyone tell him what to do.”
Harry stopped walking and scratched the back of his neck.
“Right,” he said gruffly. “Make it yourself.”
Jonas grinned, then walked across the gym to pick up a large rope. He flipped the end to snap at Harry’s ankle like a whip. The contact sent pain radiating up his calf.
“What are you doing?” he said, hopping on one foot.
“Oh, sorry, did that hurt?” Jonas asked, though by the tone of his voice Harry thought he was not apologetic. He flipped the rope again. This time the end connected with Harry’s thigh. A crack echoed around the gym and Harry yelled at the burning pain that followed.
“Cut it out, will you?” he said rubbing his thigh. A large dimple formed on Jonas’ right cheek as he flashed a smile.
“You don’t like it?” he asked, rolling the rope back. “Want me to stop?” He whipped the rope again; this time Harry fell to his knees as he cried out.
“How is this helping?” he shouted, anger brewing. Jonas marched over to Harry and stooped down.
“I’m sorry, I thought you asked me to teach you to man up,” he teased. “Now, if you want me to stop, you need to make me.” He threw the rope across the room and flung it back in a snapping motion. Harry rolled out of its path and got to his feet.
“Stop doing that,” he said, balling his hands into fists. Jonas squared up to Harry, raising his shoulders and grunting.
“Are you going to make me stop, or what?” he asked, shoving Harry, who stumbled back, then mirrored his brother’s stance, squaring his shoulders and clenching his fists. The muscles in his arms were tight, begging for a reprieve. The two of them had been working day and night in the gym, training Harry to stand up for himself. He took a step forward and shoved his brother hard. However, the force barely made him move an inch. Instead, he stood his ground with a confident smirk on his tanned face.
“Why do they intimidate you so much?” Jonas asked suddenly.
Harry crossed his arms. “Who?”
“Mother and your ex. Why are you so afraid of their silly games?” Jonas rolled his shoulders back and cracked his knuckles. The sheer size of him was enough to scare off a whole group of bandits.
“I’m not scared for my sake. I am concerned about Julie.”
“You want my advice?” Jonas asked. Harry nodded. Of course he wanted his advice. Jonas was the one who didn’t take threats from anyone.
“Cut them both off. You’ve got the resources. Get some nice private place in Morocco and live your life in peace.”
“Sounds nice, but I can’t just hide away from the world. I need to stand my ground,” Harry said resolutely.
“Then let’s get some fight into you,” he said, circling Harry now, looking thoughtful. “Talk to me about Julie.”
Harry’s ears pricked up. Just the sound of her name ignited a fire in his body. Jonas pulled on a pair of boxing gloves and threw a pair to Harry.
“Remind me, how did you two meet?” Jonas asked as Harry pulled on his gloves. Harry glanced at Benjamin, who stood at the door with his hands clasped together a vacant expression on his face.
“Through a mutual friend,” he said. Sticking to the same story he told every time Jonas asked. His brother raised his hands and the two of them boxed for a few minutes. Harry hadn’t told anyone about hiring Emily to find him a girlfriend. Only Benjamin knew. If Jonas found out that he hired a matchmaker, he would never hear the end of it.
“And you still like her, I’m guessing,” Jonas said, shaking his hands and hopping on tip toes.
“You could say that,” Harry said as he panted.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to get back together with Ebony?” Jonas pulled off his gloves and folded his arms across his broad chest.
“No, definitely not.”
Jonas nodded.
“Good. I never liked her anyway. I don’t know why you wasted years in that relationship.”
Harry sighed and picked up his flask from the floor.
“She’s got some vendetta against me now. Our mother says it’s love but sounds more like she’s just looking for someone to torture.”
“Why do you let her do it?” Jonas asked as Harry took a swig from his flask.
“Excuse me?” He spluttered as some of the drink went down the wrong way. “I’m not letting her do anything.”
“So, your plan to stay in England for these past few weeks has not been torture for you?”
“You’ve been torturing me. Not her,” Harry corrected. Jonas laughed as he stretched out his obliques.
“You’re in denial, mate.” He swung his arms back and forth and rolled his head side to side. “Staying away from Julie is killing you. I can see it all over your face.”
Harry turned away and swallowed.
“I can’t go back, not until I’m––”
“––a man? Please. You don’t need to do this. You’re ready.”
Harry turned around to face his brother again, who gave him a frank smile that Harry couldn’t read.
“What do you mean?”
Jonas dragged his hands through his hair and shook it out. Droplets of sweat scattered across the floor as he did so.
“You didn’t come to me to get in shape. You and I both know that.” Jonas scraped his damp hair back into a bun and set his hands on his hips like a superhero.
“Well, if you’re too chicken to be with Julie, maybe I’ll take her for a ride,” Jonas said with a wry smile. Harry shot him a look.
“Steady,” Harry warned. His muscles tensed again as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Jonas’ eyes narrowed.
“You did say she was a good kisser. I bet she’d be amazing––”
Harry jumped to his feet, his hands balled into tight fists, his heart pounding against his ribcage.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” he spat at his brother, baring his teeth with a growl. Every atom in his body was on fire now. One more word and his fist would connect with Jonas’ smug smile. He stared at him like a raging bull, eyeing a matador.
Jonas did a slow clap as he stood, then rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“You’re ready,” he said.
Harry stared at him as his pulse returned to normal and anger cooled.
“Benjamin,” he shouted. “Get the car ready. We’re going to the airport tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Finding Julie
Life without Harry Jackson was much less thrilling. Julie went back to her mundane routine. Sewing dresses by day, consuming far too much ice cream while watching soppy romances with Tabby by evening. Emily was busy matching rich people with their potential soul mate. And Julie’s sense of purpose in life had dissipated.
She fell for Harry too fast. Some distance from him showed her that. At the same time, there was an old saying, “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” and Julie saw the truth in that. Within days, they acted like eternal lovers. She became that girl, who she promised herself she’d never be. And it irritated her. But each day that rolled by without seeing him or hearing his voice seemed to create an even bigger hole in her heart.
Julie was deciding which pair of leggings to pull on when her phone vibrated on the bed. She bolted across the room at lightning speed and took the call without even looking at the screen.
“Hello?”
“Julie, it’s Valentina Rose.”
The silky voice on the other end of the phone dulled her excitement a little, even after three weeks of silence, she had hoped to hear Harry’s voice.
“Valentina, how great to hear from you. How are you doing?” Julie said in her fake, bright voice.
“I was hoping you would still consider designing a dress for me? I know the Oscars isn’t for a long time, but I have this function at New York this weekend. I know it’s last minute, but I’d love to wear one of your gowns.”
Julie’s heart accelerated in speed.
“Do you mean the Estelle Fashion Awards?” It was the only big event she could think of that was happening.
“Yes, that’s it. I know you work for Estelle, so I thought it would be a lovely fit.”
Julie resisted the urge to squeal as she spun around on the spot, wondering what to say.
“How soon can you get here? I have a wardrobe filled with dresses to show you. We’ll need to do some fittings and make alterations, as I’m sure they’ll be too big. Oh yikes, we’ve got less than two days….”
“I am getting in a cab now. Send over your address. Is that too soon? I can find someone else to––”
“No, that’s great. I’ll send the details. Thank you so much Valentina, this is such an honor.” Julie ended the call and did an excitable dance in her room as Tabby watched, lying on the bed.
“Tabby. Valentina Rose is going to be wearing one of my dresses to Estelle’s Fashion Awards.” Julie squealed and jumped up and down again as Tabby blinked lazily at her. Having a major Hollywood actress wearing one of her designs was the most exciting move in her career. There would be press and interviews. She’d be asked, “Who are you wearing?” and Valentina would reply, “Julie Andrews.”
The thought made Julie want to run around her apartment screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Julie, I cannot thank you enough,” Valentina gushed as Julie fastened the final pin in the yellow gown. The skirt fanned out at the knees and hugged every curve on Valentina’s Latina body. The bright yellow material was a beautiful contrast to her deep skin tone; she looked like a walking sunset. Her long hair pulled back into a high ponytail.
“You look divine, darling,” Frederick, her stylist said as he finished touching up her makeup. Julie stood in the Marks Hotel, marveling at all the marble and granite surfaces. The dressing room had mirrors surrounding a small foot stool perched on a center island, offering Valentina a look at herself in every angle. There were five stylists, a hair dresser, PA, and bodyguard in the room. Julie had no idea how many people were involved when it came to getting ready for a big event. Valentina looked like a golden goddess. She glided across the room with so much elegance, Julie wondered if she was hiding a hoverboard under her dress.
The Estelle Fashion Awards was an annual event that attracted designers from all across the globe to show off their new lines. Valentina got VIP passes for Julie, who made no hesitation in handing the other one to Emily.
Julie walked into the events hall and peered through all of the faces. An arm waved above the crowd and Julie stood on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of Emily’s beaming face from the back of the room. A runway and stage was set, taking up a huge part of the room. Julie sidled past the rows of guests as she waded her way to join Emily.
“This. Is. Amazing,” Emily said with a little squeal. Her dark hair was gelled back and she looked like she gone over-the-top with her body glitter. Every inch of her exposed décolletage was sparkly.
The show consisted of a lot of clapping, models walking up and down the cat walk, and Emily’s commentary of how much fun she was having. Julie soon suffered with a headache, as their seats were right next to one of the large speakers. The booming music seemed to beat against her eardrums and when the show ended, she was excited to leave.
“No, we can’t leave now,” Emily burst out as Julie tried to make break for the exit. “You need to talk to these people. You know, network.” She pushed Julie’s back and steered her toward a group of designers who appeared to be deep in conversation.
“Emily, no,” Julie hissed back over her shoulder as she flashed a sheepish smile at the designers and side-stepped to avoid breaking into their circle. “I want to go home. My head is killing me.”
“You’re not still pining over Harry, are you? Julie, this is your moment. Make the most of it!” Emily gestured to the crowd of talking people as if they were fish in the ocean, primed and ready to be collected.
“You stay. I know you love this sort of thing. But I’m going to get a cab,” Julie said holding Emily’s shoulders. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“Are you sure?” Emily asked, chewing her lip. Julie rubbed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile.
“Completely. Enjoy yourself and tell me everything in the morning, okay? I’ll have cinnamon rolls fresh out of the oven.”
“Promise?” Emily asked, her face breaking into a grin.
The two of them hugged and said their good-byes as Julie waded through the crowd of people. Now the award ceremony was over, everyone stood filling all the space in the room.
“Ms. Andrews, I do not remember seeing your name on the guest list.” Frank’s voice sent a shiver down Julie’s spine as he came into view. He stood looking austere in a sharp pinstripe suit, a drink in hand and his nose scrunched as if he was offended by a bad smell.
“I was added last minute,” Julie said curtly. Her fingers curled into the palms of her hands as she fought to keep her breathing steady.
I will not let this idiot ruin my night.
“Estelle would never have allowed that. Only designers are allowed seats at this even, not simple dressmakers.” His eyes squinted as he offered a false smile and took a sip of his drink. Julie straightened her back and held her head high.
“I am a designer. Valentina Rose is wearing one of my dresses, and after tonight I won’t need to endure you and your insufferable peppermint breath again.”
Frank’s mouth fell open as his face paled and his hand flew to cover his breath.
“Excuse me––”
Julie held up a hand to him in silence and walked away. A beaming smile creeping across her face.
She fought her way to th
e back door and pushed it open to be greeted with the cool New York evening air whipping through her hair. Julie’s heart was racing. Finally, she stood up to Frank and put him in his place. She knew she would likely have no job tomorrow, but she didn’t care.
Julie sighed and took in the familiar sounds of the city. Honking horns, the constant stream of traffic, and people in the street talking loudly. Underneath the dark sky, Julie felt safe. In the dark, she was under the radar. And as she rounded the corner and walked away from Estelle’s tower, the sounds grew quieter.
Harry’s face entered Julie’s mind once more. She wanted to pick up the phone and call him with the news that Valentina Rose was wearing her gown to the Estelle Fashion Awards. Whatever happened next in her career, she knew one thing, she was not just a seamstress. Now she could market herself as a designer. A designer who made gowns for A-list celebrities.
Okay, celebrity. But this is just the beginning.
The achievement felt hollow somehow. Her excitement dulled by the constant ache in her heart. All she wanted to do was pick up the phone and call Harry. It had been weeks and he hadn’t sent her so much as a text. Complete radio silence. It was maddening. However, she was the one who’d made the decision to leave. Her mind replayed the events on repeat. There was no other way to keep Harry safe. He must have known that too, or else he would have reached out to her, surely?
She wasn’t happy. Even after the biggest moment in her career, Julie realized that without someone to share it with, her life would never be anything other than average. Maybe there was a way they could be together. They never had the opportunity to go over their options. Harry had money. Lots of it. Surely, they could work something out. Was she willing to let a jealous redhead limit her happiness—even if she was crazy and most definitely dangerous?
Julie wasn’t sure if it was the ego boost from the evening, or the sudden epiphany that seemed to spark in her mind that had her so pumped full of adrenaline, but she walked mindlessly along the road, head held high and a drunken smile plastered on her face. She did not notice the quiet road she had stumbled upon, nor the lone black car parked innocently beside a dumpster. Her only thoughts were seeing Harry’s face lighting up and his arms wrapping around her body, when something suddenly struck the back of her head.