Page 11 of Roses, Pearls, and Hot Summer Nights
We stepped into the elevator together, and I tried not to notice his spicy scent. I recognized the name, knowing Barrett was his older brother. I sighed. If I were really, really honest, I was already learning way too much about Julian Lent.
4
Inever brought anyone to one of my homes before, not that it was ever expressly forbidden. But I didn’t know how it would go, either. I hid away my secret work before bed because I could never risk my aunt or any of the maids finding it, so at least I knew that was safe in a lockbox at the very back of my desk. Still, I thought it was probably better if I didn’t bring him to my room. It seemed too personal somehow, as if it would give him too much ammo or too much of a glance at the real me.
I asked, “Did you bring a book with you?” I didn’t see him carrying one.
“No.” He blinked in obvious confusion. “Why would I have a book?”
The elevator dinged and we got off together. I led him down the hallway to apartment 12A, my home for the moment. Everywhere I went was temporary, so nowhere ever actually felt like a home since Mom died. Currently, it was where I legally laid my head. I nodded toward the door. “Because we’re going to the library, to read, right? This is my apartment. Do you want to wait out here?”
He smirked at me, but the expression was full of mirth. “The books are at the library. Don’t bring your current book. Instead, let’s each pick one there. It’ll be part of the fun. Actually, I’ve got an even better idea. I’ll pick one for you and you’ll pick one for me. We can get to know each other from our book tastes. Also, are you embarrassed to bring me inside?”
I loved the book idea because it sounded really fun—the most fun I could think of having, actually. But for his second question, was I? “No.” I realized I meant it as I said it. “I’ve just literally never had anyone over anywhere I’ve lived so, yeah, I thought maybe you’d want to stay in the hall. I don’t even know if my aunt and uncle are home.”
My uncle was almost never home, as I had only run into him a couple of times since I moved in, and then only in passing. He left very early, if he slept there at all, but my aunt could be home.
Julian shrugged. “Lead the way. I’m good with parents. You kind of have to be growing up in my family, so the skill probably translates to aunts and uncles, too. Besides, they wouldn’t dare be rude to me, Alatheia.”
I couldn’t help but think it really must be incredible to have a last name with that kind of power. Then again, if I was honest, I worried less about them hurting his feelings and more about what they might say to me afterward.But it’s fine. It wasn’t like it would change things, since I’d been two seconds from being thrown out everywhere I had ever lived, or so it seemed.
“Fine.” I opened the door, and he followed me inside. I used to be wide-eyed in new places, especially nice ones. I’d never encountered actual wealth before my mom died, so for a while, I didn’t know how to handle it. Lately, I hardly noticed it. Things were things, and none of them were mine, so it didn’t matter if the floor was marble or plastic.
Julian didn’t blink when he stepped inside the opulent apartment, proving he wasn’t surprised. “Which way is your room?”
I nodded to the left then he followed me down the hall. Once we got inside my room, though, his jaw dropped. “This is the maid’s room. I don’t mean any offense, but all the apartments in this building have the same floor plan. They put you in the tiniest room, the one that used to be designated as the maid’s room in these apartments. Granny uses hers for storage.”
I nodded. “The maid comes every day, but they don’t keep live-in staff. They gave me this room on purpose, but I get it. I’m not their daughter. Her room is still her room—even though she’s grown, married, and living in London with her own child on the way now. The other two bedrooms are theirs, as they like to keep their things in different rooms. That left this for me. It’s okay, it’s not like I need more space.”
He ran a hand through his hair and dropped the bags on the bed. “Every once in a while, I’m reminded how incredibly spoiled I am.”
My brow quirked automatically.Only every once in a while?
He laughed, catching my expression. “Harsh, but you’re probably not wrong, based on the eyebrow that’s doing the talking for you. So, if this is your room, what do you do for a good time?”
I snorted, because I wasn’t telling him about my work. “I read and just … I don’t know. What does anyone do? Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” He held out his hand, and I blinked at it. I stared at it long enough, in fact, he should have dropped it, but he didn’t. I couldn’t quite get a handle on Julian, as if his clear blue eyes could somehow figure out my secrets despite the rest of the world never noticing me.
I blew out a breath and caved. Finally, I took his hand.
He squeezed our fingers together. “I’m a likeable guy. I swear, you’ll see it eventually. I don’t know—yet—about everything that happened to you, but I want to know more. Maybe you’ll even let me know why you’re so skittish around me someday.”
I shook my head. “Not happening, even if you’re nice. Let’s go.”
We stepped into the hall together just as my aunt came out of her bedroom. She wore all black with her hair in a messy bun. Previous experience taught me that if her hair was up, she was headed to some kind of beauty appointment or treatment.
She stopped and stared at us. “Alatheia, did you have that boy in your room?”
The way she saidboygave the implication of a dirtier word, sounding more likecockroach. I might not know her well, but I could tell Aunt Tricia didn’t have a high opinion of Julian as her first impression.
“No.” He replied and dropped my hand before he approached her. “I stayed outside the room.”
I managed not to quirk a brow, but I made a mental note—Julian lied smoothly.Not surprising. The shoes warned you.
“Oh?” Her skeptical response oozed disbelief.
I sighed. “Aunt Tricia,” I began, but then Julian offered her his hand to shake.
