Page 34 of Alive At Night

“Your dress,” he admitted hoarsely.

Huh? My polka-dotted wrap dress was one of my favorites. Flimsy and comfortable, it covered my thighs entirely, even as I sat back in my chair. But as I smoothed the hem and followed it around to the back, I realized that with my legs propped up, the underside of my legs—and maybe even a bit of my ass—were exposed. Unlike the skirt I had on yesterday, this dress didn’t stick to me like a second skin.

I hastily flattened my feet back on the ground. “That better?”

Julian lowered his gaze, assessing me in a way that warmed my cheeks. Not warm from embarrassment or warm from the hot pizza in my hands. It was warm in a way that tripped a confusion wire in my brain and caused goose bumps on my arm. My palms grew sweaty. I hated being sweaty, but this? I didn’t know how to feel about this.

Finally, Julian responded by making a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, and I snapped out of it.

“Didn’t realize you were afraid of a little bare skin,” I said, hoping that the heat inside me might fade to embers if we reverted back to our status quo.

My hopes lasted all of two seconds.

“Afraid?” Julian chuckled, but it was deep, and there wasn’t much humor there. His voice tickled the already raised hairs on my arm. “Daisy, no.”

Breathing was suddenly something I had to concentrate very hard on.

“So tell me about this case,” I said, hurrying to find a topic of conversation that wouldn’t make my palms sweat even more.

Julian nodded, clearly relieved that I’d brought it up. He launched into a description of the case, which focused on an undetected heart defect—coarctation of the aorta, to be precise. His eyes lit up as he spoke, his passion more than apparent. It wasn’t something I’d seen in Julian, not in a long time. Except for maybe at the football game last week.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I said when he finished, though I couldn’t articulate precisely what it was. “Why haven’t I heard anything about this? I was just talking with Daphne about—”

“It’s being kept on the down low.”

“Why?”

“The client is…” Julian bit his lip, looking like he didn’t want to finish that sentence.

“Famous?” I offered. “A celebrity? Politician?”

He shrugged. “You could say he’s well-known, yes.”

Sensing that Julian wouldn’t drop his insistence on being tight-lipped, I let it go.

“Okay.” I rubbed my hands together, eager to get started. It was these moments that I lived for, the reminder within me that knowledgewaspower. And I had it. “This is what I know.”

We walked through my experience with a similar case until the sky was inky outside the window. It was strangely nice. Even though I’d been working in this office with Julian for weeks now, tonight was the first time we shared a professional, working conversation.

“We can look at it more tomorrow if you want,” I offered once I realized the time. The pizza was cold, the office was dark, and I had just yawned three times in a row.

“That’d be great. Thanks, Juni.” Julian nodded absently, still shuffling through medical reports that his client had sent him while I stilled, shocked at how he’dthankedme. “I’m taking Friday off to help Mom prepare for the party,” he added.

The Briggs Family Annual Halloween Party—I’d almost forgotten.

Julian glanced up, cocking a brow. “I assume you’ll be crashing.”

My stomach soured, feeling the progress we’d made over the past few hours going down the drain.

“It isn’t crashing if you’re invited, Julian.” I sniffed, turning my attention to organizing my desk. “Your mom sent me a text as a reminder last week.”

“Of course you’re texting my mom,” he mumbled beneath his breath.

“Your mom loves me.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Gemma has practice Friday evening, so we’re driving to Whitebridge after she gets done.”

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