Page 40 of Marrying the Accidental Groom
Juliana blinked. “Wait, are you serious?”
He handed her a card with a wink. “Very. We’ve got a Scottsdale location opening in February. I’ll shoot you an email.”
A familiar voice cut in from behind her. “There you are. I was starting to think you’d ditched me for someone with a better hat.”
Juliana turned to see Gideon approaching with two plastic cups of pink cider and an easy smile on his face. He stopped a half-step closer than necessary, not quite possessive, but definitely inching that way.
“Uncle Chaz,” he said. “How was your Thanksgiving?”
Chaz grinned. “It was great, thanks for asking. Margie and I hosted Casey and the family. And I invited my old friends Nathan and Lisa Harrison as well. Nathan, this is my nephew, Gideon. He’s also recently married to the lovely Juliana, whom you apparently already know.”
Surprise etched across Nathan’s features, and Juliana immediately felt insecure about the story of her nuptials.
“That’s me,” Gideon said, handing her the drink. “Gideon Reynolds. Nice to meet you.”
“Nathan Harrison,” he said, shaking Gideon’s hand with a politician’s polish. “I was just telling Juliana how impressive this event is. She’s got real talent.”
“She does,” Gideon agreed, his voice light. But Juliana didn’t miss the way his thumb skimmed the side of her hand as he passed her the drink. A quiet anchor. A subtle check-in.
Nathan nodded. “I’ll let you two enjoy the evening. Juliana, seriously, think about it. We’d be lucky to have you.” With another quick smile, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind the scent of expensive cologne.
Juliana stared down at the card still tucked between her fingers. Scottsdale. February. Boutique properties.
“You know him?” Gideon asked, casual on the surface, but there was something quieter in his tone. Less sure.
“We worked together on a contract a few years ago,” she said. “He’s on the board of the Corinthia Foundation. His hotels—Harrison Hotels—hosted seven charity galas across the country for the organization. I spearheaded the project for my firm.”
He nodded slowly, eyes scanning the room as if he needed something to tether himself to. “Offering you a job?”
She hesitated. “A very tempting one.”
For a second, neither of them said anything. Around them, the barn buzzed with movement and music, but Juliana felt the stillness wrap around them like fog.
Gideon took a sip of his cider. “Well. Hard to compete with Scottsdale in February.”
She glanced up at him, surprised by the softness in his voice. “It doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”
He shrugged with one shoulder, not looking at her. “Didn’t say it did.”
But something in his posture—hands tucked in his pockets, jaw tight despite the smile—said he was already bracing for the moment she did. She looked back down at the card, guilt and possibility warring inside her. A job. A chance to put the fiasco with Leo behind her and start reclaiming her professional life.
She should’ve been thrilled. But her stomach churned instead. Because she’d finally found a place where she felt seen. Maybe not by the whole town, but by him. And if she took the job...
She’d have to leave.
She was used to planning events. What she wasn’t used to was not knowing what came next.
For the rest of the night, she tried not to wonder whether she’d just been offered her future...or handed a reason to walk away from it.
14
GIDEON
Gideon passed the convenience store on the edge of town with the flickering neon curry sign and the half-painted propane cage, and his stomach clenched with guilt. It still lingered from watching Juliana practically crawl out the back window of his truck in full gastrointestinal defeat while he sat there like a useless idiot.
She’d survived. Of course she had. She was strong like that—stubborn, composed, tougher than anyone gave her credit for.
The Indian food debacle was only the latest in a long list of reminders that he wasn’t her type—not really. She’d planned every detail for the barn dance down to the brand of toothpicks. He woke up most days without a plan for the day. She alphabetized pantry items. He couldn’t find the sugar half the time.
