Page 15 of Steel Beauty

My job is to make sure everything is perfect for his dates with Cleopatra. That’s it. I can’t get lost in conversations that shouldn’t matter, and I sure can’t feel something when he wants to talk to me.

Whitney and Sophie sit across from me in the break room, sipping iced coffees. The buzz of soft conversation hums around us, but my thoughts are stuck on Caesar.

“There’s something really endearing about how nervous Julius Caesar gets before his sessions with Cleopatra. You can tell he’s not used to feeling so out of his element,” Sophie says.

Whitney tilts her head, considering. “Yeah, you don’t see that very often with our clients. Most of them are all bravado and arrogance. Caesar is refreshing.”

“Definitely unusual.” Sophie taps her pen against her notebook. “He seems different.”

Whitney nods. “Right. Our clients usually walk in and act like they own the place.”

I glance between them, feeling very out of the loop. “I wouldn’t know since I never deal directly with clients, but he seems pretty down-to-earth based on our conversations. At least, that’s the impression I got.”

Sophie leans in, a teasing grin on her face. “So what do you two talk about in there?”

I fiddle with the straw in my drink. “Just small talk. He says I help him relax.”

Whitney raises a brow. “I can believe that. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Yeah,” Sophie chimes in, flashing me a warm smile. “You have that way about you.”

Curiosity claws at me. And while I know better, I can’t help myself. “What does Caesar look like?” I blurt out.

Sophie’s smile falters for a second. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

“I know,” I mumble, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. But my gaze drifts to her laptop, the screen tilted enough that I could probably get a peek at his profile.

Sophie notices where I’m looking and snaps it shut. “Mag… nolia… Steel––”

“I wasn’t going to look.” The lie comes easy.

I was absolutely going to peek.

Whitney chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s tempting, though, right? I mean, Caesar did ask for you specifically.”

I’ve never struggled with self-control—not with clients, not with work—but there’s something about this that’s testing my limits in a way I can’t explain. It’s harder to ignore than I’d like to admit.

Sophie taps her pen one last time before snapping her notebook shut. “All right, enough work talk. How about we grab dinner and drinks?”

Whitney perks up. “I’m in.”

For a brief second, I think about suggesting the Rabbit Hole, the speakeasy Julius Caesar mentioned. But the idea feels too risky after seeing their responses to my asking a simple question about him. If he were there, Whitney and Sophie would recognize him instantly even if I wouldn’t. So I tuck the thought away, deciding that’s a place I’ll keep to myself.

I shrug, keeping it casual. “We could go to the restaurant in the hotel. Easy enough, and we won’t have to go far.”

Just as Whitney nods in agreement, Elijah’s voice cuts in from behind us. “Dinner and drinks, huh? Mind if I tag along?”

Sophie’s eyes light up, a little too eagerly. “Absolutely! The more, the merrier.”

I bite back a groan, my enthusiasm for the evening deflating like a popped balloon. Of course Elijah invited himself. It’s what he does.

“Go grab a table at the restaurant. We girls need to freshen up first, but we’ll meet you there in a few,” Whitney says.

Sophie practically vibrates with excitement, letting out a quiet squeal after he leaves.

I arch a brow at her. “What are you squawking about?”

Sophie leans in, her words dropping to a near-whisper. “I think I might have a thing for him.”

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