Page 53 of Just Like You
“You didn’t ring me to talk about heartbreak.”
“No.” She snorted. “I rang you to tell you that Hendersons signed this morning and that Paul Bishop needs to see you on Monday. You need to be back for that. That work for you?”
“Yup. And Jules?”
“Yeah?”
“One day, there will be someone who will end up in your bed, and whoever it is, they won’t know what hit them. But what I know is this.” I stopped for effect. Smiled to myself. “They won’t see it coming, but I think they will adore you. Every little bitchy bit of you.”
“I’m not a bitch.” I could almost hear her roll her eyes. “But thank you. Shame you don’t fancy me because I would love to spank you.”
“Jules!”
“Get off it. You know you could do with someone taking you down. You need to let loose and let someone else take control once in a while. It’s all good and fun being on top, but we all need to flip the coin sometime. Just let go.”
“You make no sense, sometimes.”
“Neither do you. Enjoy São Paulo.”
“Never been.”
“And be back for Monday.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
She hung up.
And for the first time in what seemed like ages? I smiled. Properly.
Chapter Fifteen
Julian
Now I was freaking out. What had I just done? I was drenched in sweat, sat at my kitchen table, my nose still running, like I was coming down with a monster flu. It wasn’t the flu; it was just the crying. Why the hell was I crying like this? I’d spent, what, six days in total with the guy? Oh God. This was the kind of thing where people got themselves institutionalised and locked up because their delusion was so intense that they couldn’t actuallyfunction.
I couldn’t even imagine how I would manage to work tonight. Had no idea where my shirts were or what I was supposed to pack, but what I did know?
I couldn’t do this. Absolutely not. My hands were shaking as I paced the room, staring at my phone like I was willing it to ring.
I didn’t trust him. Didn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. The bastard. The absolute bastard.
I couldn’t even text Sonny, who was somewhere in a different time zone no doubt fast asleep. And if I did ring him, all I’d get would be told-you-sos and grief.
My anger was irrational because… I couldn’t put my finger on it. I felt betrayed in a way that made no sense. He… I couldn’t even describe to anyone wanting to listen what it was about him. Why he made me feel like this, because surely, this was too soon to have developed any kind of infatuation with this…this absolutely infuriating piece of shit.
Bullshit.
He was gorgeous and soft and handsome and built, and he adored me. Loved my body, every little inch of my now unkept, non-muscular, slightly hairy skin and bones. I was just me, and he’d made me feel like I was special. Lovely. Appreciated and worshipped. I blushed, even thinking those words. How he’d made me feel. The way he had looked at me, sat on a beach somewhere in the Indian Ocean. An illusion of paradise where I’d… The truth was. He’d made me feel like he loved me, and that was the biggest kick in the teeth of all. How dared he? How bloody dared he pull that on me? Hedidn’t love me. How could he? Too much. Too soon. And I was absolutely not ridiculously besotted with him back. No way.
I paced. Tried to pack. Dropped a glass on the kitchen floor and spent far too long trying to pick up the pieces. A small cut on my finger that I put a plaster on, wishing my mother was here to kiss it better.
I felt small. Childlike in my need for someone to just turn up and put me back together again.
Which was when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I was too skittish to think clearly, deciding it was probably the postman, although I never got mail. Still too frazzled to function, I yanked the door open and then just stood there and stared at the woman on my doorstep.
