I grabbed a few handfuls of napkins and proceeded to dry her off. A trail of champagne dripped down the valley of her breasts. One of the party planners had pried the sweater from her grip when we’d walked into the room (for not being timeline appropriate) and I’d never been happier for bizarre, rich people party rules in my life.
She smacked at my hands. “Would you quit it!” she hissed and turned her back to the room, taking the napkins from me and running them over her dress.
“Sorry.”
“Not your fault. I saw that guy bang into you like he was headed for the end zone.”
“Right?”
“He’s lucky my mom didn’t see that. She’d have freaked. They had to bring in a whole catering crew from Philly just for this.”
“As if the party couldn’t have gotten any swankier.”
“Har har har.”
Another server passed by holding a tray with tiny puffed pastries on it. I could down the entire thing in five seconds doing a two hander.
“I don’t think everyone else has stopped drinking since we got here,” I leaned in and whispered into Jules’ ear, not letting my gaze drift down the soft and ample slope of her breasts and into the forbidden valley that glittered with sequins like a freaking Times Square Billboard. Definitely not doing that at all.
“There are some people who’re permanently like that. Hidden flasks, rehab stints, the eventual relapse everyone pretends not to notice, or swears them having a few drinks is no big deal.”
“No wonder you invited me.”
“It was a tough choice after you volunteered yourself. I thought about backing out and canceling on you, but then I’d be here on my own.”
I did another sweep of the crowd. “I can see why it was a tough choice.” I stared into her eyes. “And I’m glad you didn’t try to cancel on me. I’m glad I could be here with you.”
“Julia, are you going to introduce me to your guest?”
It was like a cold front had blown in over the party. Jules stared back at her mom like a boxer headed into the ring. Jules’ body went rigid, but she was light on her heels and almost imperceptibly swaying like she was ready for a punch.
Her mom’s dress probably cost more than a season ticket to the Trojans’ Sky Box. Her gaze bounced between me and Jules with the same smile she’d worn before, the lines at the edge of her eyes crinkling even more.
She held her hand out and her gaze raked up and down my body. “And you must be Berkley. Laura was telling me all about you.”
Pretty hard to do when Laura had molested me with her eyes for all of twenty seconds and barely spoken to me during the process. Maybe she’d just been sizing me up trying to figure out if I was an okay dude to be dating her sister, even if it was all pretend.
“It’s nice to meet you.” I wiped my hand on my pants, not wanting to shove my sweaty palm into her delicate hand. Damn, I felt like I was going to snap every bone in her fingers. I was also slightly concerned about Jules’ statue impersonation.
“Evelyn,” she offered her name. “Laura wasn’t exaggerating when she said you were handsome.” Her mom propped one of her hands under her chin. “And how long have you two been together?”
Jules opened her mouth to set her mom straight, but I butted in.
“It’s new.” I slipped my arm around Jules’ shoulder. “But if she keeps baking for me the way she has been, I’ll never let her go.” I looked at Jules with a distinct roll-with-this-look.
She patted her hand on mine. “Yes, very new.”
“Of course you’d know your way into a man’s stomach.” Her mom’s wavy blonde hair bounced as she laughed.
Jules shrank under my hold.
“She’s a fantastic baker. One of the best bakeries in the city is bringing her on for a special project.”
“Julia has always loved the kitchen. And food. Good thing he looks strong.” Her mom spoke to Jules while patting me on the chest.
Jules sucked in a sharp breath.
“She keeps me well fed.”
“I’m sure she does. I’m glad she’s making enough for you both. Have a lovely time this weekend.”
That was one of the weirdest conversations I’d had in a long time, but rich people do what rich people do. It was like she was speaking in code and I didn’t have the translation key.
Someone interrupted, pulling her away, and she went on hugging and kissing other attendees.
Jules spun around out from under my arm and rushed out to the patio, disappearing into the inky night beyond the doors.
12
Jules
Skirting around the people dancing in perfect waltzes, I shoved open the French doors. The gauze curtains billowed out over the stone patio. Outside, the tightness in my chest squeezed so much it was hard to catch my breath.
I braced my hands on the stone railing and stared upwards. Clouds blotted out the night sky. At least the stars weren’t here to witness to my humiliation, although everyone else had been, including Berk.
Humidity licked at my skin, making the dress even more uncomfortable, clinging and scratching every inch of me it covered. Dots of water splattered against my arms. At least if it poured I could blame that for why my face was wet. I wiped at my eyes, so sick of letting my family do this to me. The heavy footfalls that could only be Berk’s followed after me. No one else had probably even noticed I was gone.
“Jules.”
I wiped at my eyes. Not a-freaking-gain. This weekend wasn’t going to be the Comforting Jules Weekend Extravaganza. I scurried down the steps leading to the garden.
“Jules.”
I kept my head down and kept walking. My heels slid and wobbled on the gravel path.
“If you’re trying to hide, the glittering, sparkly dress isn’t exactly stealthy. I think that’s why the military went with camo over sequins.”
Stopping, I sighed and waited.
His crunchy footsteps closed in. His suit jacket brushed against my arm. “At least let me come with you on your walk. Show me around. Maybe one of your old favorite spots.”
There were no questions, only comfort. The comfort of his presence and the peace of mind that, for now, he wasn’t going to ask me to say anything more than what I was able. “Sure.”
I kicked off my shoes, abandoning the pinch of the heels when we made it to the grass. “There’s one place I haven’t been in a while. I hope it’s not locked for the night.”
“If it is, don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” Even in the darkness, I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Practiced at forcible entry, are we?”
“Only when I need to be.”
Out in the dark with only the stars lighting the way, I felt safe with him at my side. The way you got when you felt like someone could haul you into their arms and run away with you. I didn’t get that feeling around many guys, but with Berk, I thought maybe, just maybe.
Then I pushed those thoughts aside. He’s being a friend. Just like he’s been a friend for nearly a year now. Stopping into the house to make sure I’m okay and steal treats. But there’s never been more than a hint of interest—other than the way his gaze kept dipping to my chest, but that was probably his overprotective streak—I’d seen it come out more than once. Not that I minded, but I needed to keep things straight in my head.