I could’ve used more of that myself. I spent my days with my eyes everywhere but in the now. I looked back at the way Coleton had ruined my father’s career and life. I looked forward to the way I’d return the favor. But I rarely stopped to smell the roses, and maybe that’s what was so addicting about Jules. She forced me to be present. There was nowhere else to be with those glowing eyes and her infectious smile.
She dragged me, kicking and screaming right into the here and now. The problem was I couldn’t afford to forget my mission, and all these little detours were adding up. They were distracting me, and I knew it was only a matter of time before it bit me in the ass.
“So, where to, boss?” Jules asked.
She actually reached out and grabbed my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. I grinned down, unable to even fake a glare if I wanted to. “We’re doing this?” I asked, looking at our hands.
“I’m a girl with a certain idea about what it means to be in a relationship. And yes, I hold hands with my boyfriends.”
I chuckled. Boyfriend. I ignored the totally irrational jealous itch at the thought of boyfriends she’d had before. Don’t be a dumbass, Adrian. You can’t be annoyed at the thought of men getting a taste of her before you even knew her. You especially can’t be upset when you’re halfway sure you’ll wind up having to end this because she’s the daughter of the fucking guy you’re trying to destroy.
“Quite the grip you have there,” she said.
I made myself relax. I’d practically been crushing her small hand, which she was now swinging, forcing my arm to swing along with her. “Really?” I asked.
“Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all while we walked. “I like to frolic, too.”
“This is just punishment for the way I make you work, isn’t it?”
“No comment.”
I shook my head. She was adorable. And a Coleton. That thought rose up out of the darkness in my mind like toxic sludge, tainting everything about this moment. She was Juliette Rose Coleton. I’d done some internet searching after I bent her over my desk. She had a brother named Michael Van Coleton and a small army of influential aunts and uncles. Her mother was Carianne Coleton, who grew up Carianne Adams. She’d been the daughter of a wealthy family with money that was several generations old and came from trans-Atlantic trading.
It was a mixture of blue and green blood in her family. Privilege up to the ears.
It all should’ve made me hate her, but here she was. She’d willingly peeled herself away from that life and came out here to slum it on principle. I’d even looked up her address and saw the shoebox she was calling home. By all appearances, Jules had broken free of the money and the influence her parents promised.
But how much of that was a flight of fancy? Could I really trust her to still keep my secret if she knew the truth about what I was planning to do to her family business?
“You alright up there?” she asked.
“I’m good,” I said. “Just focusing on my form. I’m new to frolicking.”
She laughed. It was a good laugh, and not one I’d heard enough from her. I could see now how much her secret had been weighing her down. Now that she’d told me the truth, she seemed even lighter than before with less of that occasionally acidic edge.
We walked to a cafe that sold gyros and salads, which Jules seemed excited for. We both ordered a lamb gyro and sat by the window with our sandwiches wrapped in crinkly paper.
Jules made plenty of happy noises while she ate and got sauce all over her face. She was constantly reaching for napkins and wiping it from the tip of her nose, her cheeks, and even her forehead at one point.
“So,” she said once she’d made it about halfway through her gyro. “You left something out when you told me your real last name.”
My stomach sank. Yeah. I did. I left out several very important somethings, and I’d been surprised she hadn’t pinned me on it the moment I told her. I shouldn’t have been surprised she was asking now. “Yes,” I said slowly.
“You know why I used a fake name, but why did you? Do you have a criminal record or something?”
She was offering me an easy out. I could’ve just taken the lie and run with it, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I decided I’d tell her only as much truth as I needed. Maybe I could avoid getting into the full depth of my plans. Yes, I should’ve ran this by the others, but I couldn’t lie to her anymore. “Well, I’ve actually spent the last ten years in a strange sort of business. We call it demolition.”