Page 42 of Julien (Confessions 2)

MERDE, THAT HADN’T been one of his most shining moments, that was for sure—kind of like this morning, when he went all pissy and standoffish with Robbie. But it was the moment that had landed him on viewers’ radars—and, more importantly, Priest’s. After that episode, he’d sought out his surly lawyer, and in a rather spectacular moment of stupidity, thought it would be a great idea to beg him for help.

Julien shook his head, remembering the night well. He had been a mess. But Priest did help him. He wrote up a privacy clause that to this day was ironclad, and still used, with any person Julien came into contact with.

No matter the interviewer, the topic, or the reason for it, it was understood that he was never to be asked about his personal or private life. His family, which now included Priest and Robbie, were off-limits.

The revolving door alerted Julien of Gail and her crew’s arrival, and as the team from the magazine piled into his restaurant, Julien’s palms began to sweat.

Dieu. Okay, I can do this. I’ve just got to keep it together a little longer. Then it will be over and I can go home to my men.

A tall woman, made taller by a pair of cherry-red heels, came through the door first. She wore a black pencil skirt and a blouse the same color as her heels tucked in at a trim waist, and Julien smiled at Gail Knight.

She walked over to him with a sure stride that came from years in heels that high, and the swing she added to her hips spoke volumes of her self-confidence and knowledge of just how well her skirt showed off her voluptuous curves. Her ebony hair was perfectly straight and sat an inch above her shoulders, and her almond-shaped eyes added an exotic quality to her stunning features. Gail Knight was gorgeous.

“Julien Thornton,” she said, and held her hand out to him.

Julien took it and lowered his mouth to brush a kiss to her knuckles. “Bonjour Miss Knight.”

“Oh, that accent never gets old. It’s just divine,” she said with a little laugh as Julien released her hand.

“Merci. I appreciate you coming out to JULIEN this afternoon.”

“Are you kidding? It’s our pleasure. We haven’t had such a high-profile restaurant opening here in Chicago for years.”

Julien ushered Gail into the lounge area and toward one of the more private booths where he thought they could do the interview, and then he’d take the crew around for photos of the place afterward.

“I’m thrilled to be here. I love Chicago,” Julien said, as he waited for her to take a seat and then sat down opposite her. “Although, I must confess, I’m excited for the warmer temperatures to arrive.”

Gail laughed, and the sound was almost musical as she let her eyes roam around the space. “I understand that. Our winters can be harsh, and for someone used to L.A. temperatures, it must be extra rough.”

“It’s been a learning curve, that’s for sure. But someone very wise told me it’s all about layers, layers, and more layers.” Julien smiled at the thought of Robbie that first night after CRUSH.

Oui, if he could just focus on things like that, things that made him happy, then he just might be able to get through this without hyperventilating.

“This place is exquisite,” Gail said as her eyes finally came back to his. “I understand all of your restaurants are different? So they aren’t themed in any way.”

“The only theme, really, is the European feel to them, but beyond that, non. Each restaurant is distinct and created to fit whatever vibe the building it’s in makes me feel.”

Gail put her purse on the seat and pulled out a slim recorder to place on the table. Julien’s eyes dropped to it, the ease he’d felt a few seconds ago slipping through his fingers at the thought of anything he said, even by accident, being on record in some form forever.

“Is this okay?” Gail said, gesturing to the recorder, and Julien licked his lips and brought his eyes back to hers. He was worrying over nothing. Of course it was okay. He’d done a hundred interviews and never once slipped up. Now would be no different.

“It’s fine,” Julien said, and made himself smile as she slid it to the middle of the table.

“Great. I find it helpful. My memory isn’t always accurate, and writing it down I find I miss some of the best comments or pieces of information.”

“That makes sense,” Julien said, and as he sat back in his seat, Lise came out with a carafe of chilled water. “Would you like something to drink?”

Gail looked at his manager and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Lise turned over Gail’s glass and filled it, and then did the same to him, and before she walked off, she mouthed, You okay? To which Julien inclined his head and said thank you, letting her know that, right now, he was.

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