Page 60 of Kisses and Paperclips

“Funny…” He leaned in, his mouth dangerously close to my ear. “I read the employee handbook.”

“Of course you did.”

“Turns out, as long as it’s not a direct report, HR doesn’t have much to say.”

My pulse stuttered.

“I like to know exactly where the lines are,” he said, eyes dropping to my mouth, “before I start bending them.”

The air between us got heavy, thick and charged.

I turned away before I could do something reckless. But I knew he was still watching me, probably wearing that smug little smirk that made me want to slap… or kiss it off.

The man is dangerous and some wild part of me was starting to think maybe danger was exactly what I needed.

I could feel him, watching me, studying every line and detail of my face

“You’re jealous.”

I never took my eyes off the runway on the other side of the room that a few people were putting the final touches too. He just kept staring nearly drilling a hole into the side of my face.

His voice was low, thick with satisfaction, like he already knew the answer and just wanted to hear me say it out loud. I took another sip of my cider, letting the glass linger at my lips a moment too long. Not because I needed the drink, but because I needed the distance. A distraction. Something to keep me from closing the space between us.

“That silence sounds like a yes.”

He murmured it low, his breath skimming my ear like a secret too dangerous to say out loud.

I swallowed hard—not just from how close he was, but because he wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t jealousy. Not exactly. It was the way he slipped past every wall I’d built, like they were just suggestions. The way he zeroed in on the soft places I kept hidden under ambition and control. Places I didn’t let anyone near.

I opened my mouth to respond, maybe to say something slick to even the score, but the lights dimmed before I could find the words. A hush rolled over the room like a velvet curtain, and the runway lit up in a sharp beam of white.

Julien leaned back just enough to meet my eyes, that smirk back in place like he never lost it. “Saved by the bell,” he said, voice low, smug, and way too pleased with himself.

I exhaled slowly, turning my attention to the stage, but the heat he stirred in me didn’t go anywhere.

God, this man unnerved me.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, voice smooth like it wasn’t already obvious he knew he was throwing me off balance.

“Nothing,” I replied, aiming for indifferent, even as my pulse betrayed me. “Why?”

“You went somewhere just now.” He said repeating my words from the other day.

I turned to him, eyes narrowing, locking onto his like I could will him out of my head.

“Just wondering…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Whether it’ll be Seductive Plum or Strawberry Fire that opens the show,” I said coolly, tossing out the names of our spring line like I hadn’t just been mentally unravelling.

Julien’s mouth curved, slow and knowing. “You think about business all the time?”

“I have to,” I said, taking a slow sip of my drink, eyes never leaving his. “Somebody around here has to keep things professional.”

He chuckled, and turned his attention to the runway as we waited for the show to start.

But I could feel that his attention was still on me.

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