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“Your monthly column in New York Viewpoint, Juliet.” He smiles. “We are calling it Her Viewpoint. You’ll be interviewing the women who love the wealthiest men in this city.”

I bolt to my feet from the chair I’ve been sitting in. “What?”

“This is brilliant.” He leans back in his chair. “What better way to understand a man than to speak to the woman he loves?”

“I’m getting a monthly column?”

“You sure are.”

I skim a hand over the front of my blouse. I went totally professional for this meeting. White blouse, black slacks, and black shoes. Kavan insisted that I wear my polka dot scarf for good luck, so I am.

“You have complete control until we get to the final copy.” He stands. “You pick your subjects, you craft their stories, handle setting up the photography and then send your column my way by the fifteenth of each month.”

I nod, unsure if I can form a coherent sentence.

“We run two months out, so your love letter to Bane will hit the stands in about eight weeks.” He bounces his eyebrows. “Maybe you’ll be married by then, and we can include a picture of the bride and groom?”

My gaze drops to my empty left hand. “We’re not there yet, sir.”

“You will be.” He taps a finger on the corner of his laptop screen. “The emotion in this piece hit me hard, Juliet. You’ve got something special to offer to the magazine. It’s going to garner us a hell of a lot more readers.”‘

I drop my hands to my hips. “So my pay will…”

He laughs. “Your pay remains where it is for the next three columns. We’ll revisit after that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Marks.”

“Thank you, Juliet.” He offers me his hand. “You brought me something I didn’t know I wanted. That rarely happens.”

“Hey, Mr. Bane,” I greet Kavan as soon as I exit the elevator in the lobby.

He glances around. “Can I kiss my girlfriend in public?”

I tug on his silver tie. “You better.”

He dips me before he kisses me tenderly.

I have to hold onto him when it breaks because it was that good. “Can I have another?”

Laughing, he leans forward to kiss me softy. “I take it that the meeting was a success?”

“You are looking at a columnist for New York Viewpoint.”

“A columnist?” His eyes widen. “Juliet, that’s fucking awesome news.”

“The best.”

“We should celebrate,” he suggests. “Where should we go for dinner?”

“Our bed?” I question with a laugh.

“Our bed,” he repeats. “I like the sound of that. Is our bed in our penthouse?”

“Our penthouse?” I step back to let a woman approaching the elevator pass me by. She tosses Kavan a look that I can’t read.

He doesn’t notice.

That’s becoming more common. This is the third day in a row that he’s ventured out of his penthouse with me.

“Move in, Juliet.” He embraces me. “Live with me.”

I glance up and into his stunning blue eyes. “It’s soon.”

“It’s not,” he argues. “I want it. I know you do, so let’s go grab your stuff.”

I laugh. “You’ll need to meet Margie first, and Sinclair. You have to meet her. She’s becoming a good friend to me.”

“I’ll meet whoever you want me to meet if it means a million tomorrows with you.”

Epilogue

3 Months Later

KAVAN

Life’s treasures are found in the most unusual places.

I found mine in an alley, and now I’ve found a second at a vintage shop called Past Over.

I wouldn’t normally shop here, or anywhere for that matter, but I know that my beautiful Juliet has had her eye on something in the jewelry display case here.

Sinclair Morgan, Juliet’s friend, was the one who told me about the ring.

During dinner at the penthouse one night last week while Juliet was busy with Margot and Nara in the kitchen, I asked Sinclair about engagement rings.

The timing was perfect since we were celebrating Nara and Alcott’s upcoming nuptials.

I gave Alcott a bonus worthy of an impressive ring. I gifted Nara the same amount. She told me she was going to sock it away for a rainy day.

That day will arrive in approximately seven months when they welcome their first child.

It’s months after Graham and Trina will become parents. Sela Locke is due right around my birthday. I’m eager to meet my goddaughter and more than ready to tell her tales about her father that will piss him off.

“This one?” The woman behind the counter holds up a tarnished silver band that’s barely clinging to a gold-hued diamond.

“That’s the one.”

“She’ll love it, Mr. Bane.”

My brow quirks. “You know my name.”

“Everyone in this city does.” She pats her chest. “I read Juliet’s column last week. May I say, sir, that you two are a shining example of what true love is?”

I look to the ring before I level my gaze back on her face. “I’m a very lucky man.”

She places the ring carefully in a small gift box. “Judging by this, Juliet is very lucky too.”


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