Page 34 of The Authenticity Clause
“What’s this?” Leo asked, his fingers resting on the folder.
“It’s a formal offer of employment,” Julian stated, allowing the full weight of his professional pride to infuse his voice. “For the position of Senior Creative Strategist. Sarah mentioned it yesterday, but I wanted to be the one to officially present it to you.”
Leo didn’t open it. He just stared at the folder, his expression unreadable.
“Leo,” Julian said, leaning forward, his voice softening. “What you did for the Northwind project wasn’t just a lucky break. It was a paradigm shift. You changed the way we think, the way this team creates. You’re not just an artist; you’re a visionary. And this agency…Ineed you here. Permanently.”
The praise was honest, heartfelt, and stripped of all his usual corporate jargon. This was him, Julian, the man, speaking to Leo, the man he respected and admired. He watched, waiting for the explosion of joy, for the triumphant grin he had been anticipating all morning.
Instead, a complex storm of emotions seemed to pass over Leo’s face. He looked down at the folder, then back up at Julian, a strange, haunted look in his eyes that Julian couldn’t decipher. It looked almost like… pain.
“I… don’t know what to say,” Leo said, his voice quiet and strained.
Julian’s brow furrowed. This wasn’t the reaction he had expected. Was it the salary? Was it not enough? “The compensation is negotiable, of course. We can discuss—”
“No, it’s not that,” Leo cut him off quickly, shaking his head. “It’s… more than generous. It’s perfect.” He finally opened the folder, his eyes scanning the page, but his focus seemed a million miles away. “I just… need a little time to think about it.”
Disappointment, sharp and unexpected, pricked at Julian.Think about it?Why did he need to think about it? This was everything they had been working towards. It was a validation of their partnership.
But he pushed the feeling down. This was a major life decision. Of course, Leo needed a moment. He was being impatient.
“Of course,” Julian said, forcing a calm, understanding tone. “Take the weekend. Let me know on Monday.” He stood, signaling the end of the meeting, but he couldn’t resist adding, “I hope you’ll say yes. It wouldn’t be the same here without you.”
The haunted look in Leo’s eyes deepened. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I’ll… think about it.” He stood and left the office, leaving the gray folder, the symbol of his triumph, sitting on the chair like an abandoned artifact.
Julian stared at the empty chair, a seed of confusion taking root in his mind. He had expected celebration. Instead, he was left with a disquieting sense of unease.
He tried to shake it off. He told himself he was overthinking it. Leo was probably just overwhelmed. To celebrate, to put them back on the right track, he would plan a perfect evening. He would remind Leo of what they were building, together.
That night, he cooked. He filled his apartment with the warm, savory scents of roasting chicken and rosemary. He opened a bottle of good red wine. He put on the Debussy record Leo loved. He was creating a space of warmth, of comfort, of certainty.
When Leo arrived, he was wearing the ghost of that same haunted expression. But as he stepped inside and took in the scene, the smell of the food, the soft music, the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away, at least a little.
“You cooked?” Leo asked, a small, real smile finally gracing his lips.
“I have a number of skills that aren’t listed on my resume,” Julian replied, taking the bottle of wine Leo had brought and leading him to the kitchen.
The dinner was an exercise in Julian’s determined optimism. He kept the conversation light, talking about the project’s success, telling funny anecdotes about the client’s reaction, praising the team. He talked about the future of the agency, using the word “we” constantly and deliberately. He was painting a picture of their shared future, a vibrant, exciting world where they were partners in every sense of the word.
He watched as, slowly but surely, the tension drained out of Leo. The haunted look was replaced by the warm, familiar light he had come to love. Leo started laughing again, bantering back, adding his own chaotic, brilliant ideas to Julian’s structured plans.
They moved to the couch after dinner, glasses of wine in hand, the city lights twinkling beyond the balcony. The Debussy record played softly in the background. The atmosphere was perfect—intimate, warm, and full of a quiet, hopeful energy.
“I was thinking,” Julian said, turning to face Leo on the couch, “we should take a trip. After the Northwind launch is complete. A real vacation. Somewhere warm, with no cell service.”
Leo’s eyes widened. “A trip?”
“A celebratory trip,” Julian confirmed. “We’ve earned it.” He reached out, taking Leo’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “And when we get back, we’ll start looking for a new space for the agency. Something bigger, with more light. A space you can help design from the ground up.”
He was laying his entire world at Leo’s feet. His work, his future, his home. He had never felt this open, this unguarded, with anyone. The fear of vulnerability that had governed his life for so long was gone, replaced by a profound and absolute trust.
“Julian, I…” Leo started, his voice thick with an emotion Julian mistook for happiness.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Julian said softly. He brought Leo’s hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles. He looked into Leo’s eyes, into the beautiful, kind soul he had come to know so completely. And he let the final wall crumble, offering Leo the most valuable thing he possessed: his certainty.
“I just want you to know,” Julian said, his voice a low, steady murmur, full of a conviction that was absolute. “That in my entire life, a life built on data and evidence and predictable outcomes… I have never felt this certain about anyone. Ever.”
He said the words, and he meant them with every fiber of his being. He was laying his heart, bare and trusting, in Leo’s hands.
