Page 11 of Her Ruin

Julian looked at me over his shoulder. “Isla, are you being a bitter lemon?” he asked with a frown.

Yes. I am. “Okay, it was nice,” I conceded grudgingly. “It had more class than I expected from someone like Zayn.”

Julian scoffed but said nothing. He was ludicrously neutral when it came to Zayn and me. In truth, it irked me. I’d known Julian longer.Iwas his best friend, not Zayn.

Julian must have seen what I was thinking on my face because he gave an exasperated sigh. “You are ridiculous in your prejudice against him,” he scolded as he settled on the couch with our wineglasses.

His outburst was unlike him, and when he saw my surprise, he shrugged. “I can only say nothing so many times,” he grumbled.

“His guy, Rye, like the bread, took my client and then asked forallmy clients.” I felt it was necessary to tell him this again.

“Rye’s a ballbuster, ignore him. He wasn’t serious.”

I watched him take a drink. “He was wearing a burgundy three-piece suit.”

Julian nodded his approval. “Classy.”

I elbowed him as I sat down, putting the bowl of pretzels between us, ignoring his hiss of protest. “Not classy. Cliché.”

“You’re behaving like a child,” he admonished gently, his hand already reaching for the pretzels. “You didn’t even want to go to the club. If anything, the fact they’re handling it all in-house is actually what you wanted. A reason not to go there, now you have it, and you’re still annoyed.”

I sipped my chardonnay and avoided answering him.

It wasn’t the point.

The point was…thatwasn’tthe point. I took another drink of my wine, the cool liquid doing little to wash away the lingering bitterness on my tongue. The more I thought about it, the more I realized Julian was right. I was being stupid. Petty. But somehow, knowing that,acknowledgingthat, didn’t make the knot in my stomach any easier to untangle.

“So, what’s this movie about?” I asked him, desperate to change the subject. My voice was light—too light—but I ignored the crack in it.

Julian shot me a knowing look. He didn’t call me on it, but the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth told me everything. He saw right through me as he always had.

I tucked my feet beneath me, curling into the couch, and trained my eye on the screen. The film blurred into a mess of colors and sounds that barely registered. I pretended to focus on it, nodding along as Julian mumbled something about the poor plot. But my thoughts were elsewhere—revolving around Zayn, his stupidamazingclub, and his stupid rules that were in danger of affecting my business.

He had the upper hand. I hated that. And it wasn’t even personal—it was justbusiness—real business, my livelihood, my income, the important stuff that paid my bills and kept my life together. My reputation was tied to making things work and delivering results for clients who put their money and their trust in me. That trust was fragile, and the idea of it crumbling because of Zayn’s in-house planner rule made my hands clammy.

Still, there were better ways to fix this than sitting and dwelling on it. I had no idea what those ways were yet, but I would find them. I had to.

I shifted in my seat, my gaze flicking to Julian. He was watching me, his expression soft but calculating, as if he were waiting for the moment when I cracked. To confess something I wasn’t even ready to admit to myself. I didn’t crack. Instead, I smiled and took another sip of wine.

He popped a pretzel in his mouth and leaned back on the sofa. “Do you even know what the movie’s about?” he asked, his casual tone contrasting with the shit-eating grin he was wearing.

“Of course,” I shot back, rolling my eyes. “You’ve spoken the whole way through it. Who needs subtitles? Know what I’m saying.”

“Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me what the movie is about, Isla.”

“It’s about…um…” I waved my hand at the screen and the end credits that were rolling. Had I missed the whole thing? “People. And the stuff that happened to the people.”

Julian snorted, shaking his head. “Smooth. Really convincing.”

“Shut up.” I giggled despite myself, tipping the bowl of pretzels towards me and realizing he had eaten them all. “I’ve got a lot on my mind; this is my first night off in what…a week? Two? I needed to relax. Who cares that I didn’t watch it? I enjoyed the chill time.” I saw that I had him. “With my bestie.”

“You weren’t planning Zayn’s demise?” Julian asked me almost apologetically.

“Ugh, please. That guy does not get to take up real estate in my head. It is what it is. I’ve moved on.” I poked him in the ribs. “Maybe you’re more hung up on it than me?”

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