17. Claire

The weekend flies with Julian keeping things normal between us. Friday night was the only night we slept together. It was proof that the terrors don"t come every night, but we still enjoy sleeping separately. He doesn"t completely shuck his routine, and after breaking it up, we"re back to normal when Sunday rolls around.

I"m in the library of the manor, researching different types of non-profit organizations, their business models, and best practices. Business fundamentals and a few other textbooks from Julian"s college career litter the space. It makes me laugh how outdated some of these books are but I try not to do the math on how much older he is than me.

When he pokes his head inside, the smile on his face is contagious.

"You"ve been in here all morning. Is there anything I can help with?" he asks.

"Actually, I"m thinking about this break I"m taking. I want to enroll in a few classes in the fall."

"Do you want an actual degree or just a few classes?"

I shrug, "How useful is a degree in business these days? I"m not asking you as Julian, the man who"s been taking care of me and wants the best for me. I'm asking Julian, the CEO of Nuvola Scura, who manages a multi-billion-dollar corporation."

He folds his arms over his chest, leaning against a bookcase. "You"re associated with the Blackwell name, but we"re not the most popular family among the elite. Feared mostly. I"d say no one expects you to get a degree, but it would look better if you had one. It"s pretty much unspoken that you"ll work for my company. College is great for the connections you make, networking, friendships, experiences. But on the job experience holds a bit more weight than a degree for me, unless you"re a doctor, lawyer, engineer, someone who juggles people"s lives and livelihoods. I"m giving you the experience most undergrads have to wait to get until after they graduate."

"So, should I get a degree, or not?"

"Claire, get a degree in any field you want. Or don"t. If I"m being honest, the fact that I"m even pursuing this relationship with you is forcing me to disregard what other people think. I want you to start doing the same. Do what you want because it"s what you want, not because of what it looks like. Don"t go to school because I tell you to. It will be a waste of time and money if it"s not what you want to do. Money we can replace. Time we never get back."

"I"ll give it some thought. Did you enjoy college?"

The warring emotions on his face tell me it"s not the best memory for him as he replies. "It was a great time for me to get away from my father, but Derek and Edward were forced to fend for themselves for a while. It"s weird being a man, growing up, and needing help but everyone simply expects you to know things, to land on your feet."

"What happened?" I ask him, curiosity tugging at the opportunity to get a memory of my Dad from someone who knew him.

"Edward aged out of foster care and your Dad met Sue-Ellen. They struggled together for a bit. I would come back and forth between here and Princeton until I couldn"t stand how much life was destroying the guys that saved my life. Your Dad saved my family. I went to work with my father over the summer and consulted for his election campaign to target a younger demographic. Some of his donors saw me and took a chance to see what I could do to help their corporations."

"Wow, that"s how Nuvola Scura came about?"

"Yeah, at least, that"s what my experiences led to. The way my father and I are connected is sickening because he"s done so much to me and then done so much for me. So, I simply hate him and tolerate his presence. I just know the kind of animal he is and I don"t like him around people I care about."

"You care about Fiona?" I ask him, remembering her incident with Charleston.

Julian scoffs. "We"re colleagues more than friends, but I do care enough about any woman in his presence that he"s the slightest bit angry at because it always ends badly. Charleston has this approach to life that nothing can happen to him. Nothing will be done to correct his bad behavior."

"How would you feel about placing Fiona on the Board of Directors for the charity organization?"

His smile fades as he shakes his head. "Don"t. She needs to concentrate on her job. How about you focus on the goals and operations of the foundation, first? We"ll tackle the Board and its members when we have everything else lined up. Good work, Claire. I"m proud of what you"re trying to do for Nuvola, for me."

"Thank you, Julian."

I smile as he comes closer, kissing me on the forehead and letting me get back to work. There are a ton of questions I have that I need to do more research on. Each book leads me to another. Some lead me to my phone, where social media has some interesting viewpoints that push me back into the books. It excites me to compare the work I"m doing now to the work waiting for me in the office tomorrow.

It"s becoming so much clearer why Julian"s successful at his business, at running his company. His drive to accomplish corporate dominance in his sector stems from wanting to take care of the people who take care of him.

Monday morning rolls around and everything runs like clockwork as I train with Bonnie in the morning, map out Julian"s day, and tick off my assigned tasks as his assistant. In my free time, I keep myself buried in my research until Fiona finds her way to Julian"s office.

The angry stomp of her stiletto heeled feet as she juggles her messy binder doesn"t give me hope for our interaction. She drops the heavy three-ringed portfolio onto my desk with a thud that draws the attention of nearby workers.

"Good morning, Miss Douglas. Is there anything I can do for you?" I ask her.

"You can start by telling me about any calls to Julian regarding the recent real estate properties he"s in negotiations to buy."

Evidence of confusion rolling over my face forces her to roll her eyes and puff out an exhale of frustration. Despite her annoyed expression, I tell her. "I am not at liberty to discuss any phone calls that Mr. Blackwell makes or receives. You"ll have to get clarity from him."

"I would," she runs her tongue over her teeth and glances away from me. "But he"s not responding to any of my messages, emails, or phone calls."

"Oh? That"s odd."

"Yes, it is. I am the Chief Financial Officer. He should not be ignoring me. I"ve been calling since Friday."

"I sent out a memo saying he wasn"t to be disturbed this weekend. Why would you insist on ignoring that?" I ask her.

"Because you two were spotted out and about. A CEO and his assistant were seen having a picnic by the bridge. While you two were out molesting each other under the Gold Gate, my phone was ringing off the hook. Three out of the four deals I"m in the middle of closing have collapsed for one reason or another. I"m starting to think they backed out because Julian"s been wasting time on his pretty little assistant."

I lower my voice, leaning forward to ensure only she hears me. "But if this isn"t supposed to be public information, how do the sellers know that Julian is buying the properties, or that he"s wasting time on his assistant?"

"That"s a great question indeed, Claire," Julian says from behind Fiona. Her face pales as she straightens up, turning around to face him. Full dark brown brows scrunch together above those olive-green eyes. He sighs, saying, "Claire, you can take off the rest of the day, I know you have a lot of research to get through for your proposal. Fiona, let"s talk in my office about the separation between professional and personal lives, and how I"d like to keep you out of my personal one."

I notice the shifty gaze from a clerical worker passing by, undoubtedly excited to have some gossip for the rumor mill. I don"t hesitate to shut everything down and head out of the office.

An early lunch is perfect, and I"m able to have Bonnie take me to a great Thai place where Danny meets us to discuss the party this weekend. Danny"s speaking to some guy that has Bonnie on edge as we approach.

"Who is that?" I whisper to Bonnie.

"I don"t know," Bonnie replies, taking a step to put herself between me and the shady guy her sister is speaking to. He"s only shady because the thick sunglasses he has on blocks most of his face. He"s also wearing ash black denim shorts with a polo shirt tucked into them. He"s definitely older, but purposely trying to go unnoticed. It"s, I don"t know, weird?

"Hey, Danny." My voice reaches her, causing her to turn in my direction. But her weird friend flinches before mumbling something and speed walking away from the restaurant.

"Who was that?" Bonnie asks. Authority embodies her tone.

Danny huffs, fluffing her newly cut pastel pink bangs. They"re bright against the rest of her black hair that"s cut to her shoulders. I can see Bonnie doesn"t like it, as she swats Danny"s hand away to stop her from fidgeting with it. It"s a nervous tick of sorts with Danny whenever Bonnie"s being more of a parent than a sister. I love the color of her hair.

"I love your haircut, Danny," I tell her.

Danny flashes a toothy grin as she turns to me. "Good, because it matches the dress I found to wear to your birthday party. I"m excited to come. How are things coming along for you?"

"Don"t ignore me, Danny. Who was that weird guy?" Bonnie asks.

Danny clicks her tongue, indifferent to Bonnie"s mood. "An old friend who wanted me to deliver a message to someone who"ll be at that party of yours, Claire. It"s the talk of the town, apparently. You"d be surprised to know how many people don"t know it"s for an eighteen-year-old"s birthday."

"The party planning is going great. I"ve added a few people to the guest list and will have to take one off. But overall, I"m excited to let loose. Everything"s been so serious lately. I"m ready to have some fun with a bunch of people celebrating my birthday. Even if they don"t realize it"s my birthday."

We finally head inside the restaurant where lunch flies by just as fast as the rest of the week. It"s finally time to celebrate.

The shimmering pearl and silver chiffon dress with a beaded corset bodice molds to my body like it was designed specifically for me. I give it a twirl to see how loose the skirt is. It flows like a breeze on a summer day. The heels waiting for me with their un-scuffed red bottoms complete the glamorous look that has my blonde curls pinned up with a few tendrils framing my face. My makeup is pristine and even better? There"s a hidden pocket in the skirt.

I slip my phone into it before I head downstairs to where Julian"s waiting in a black tuxedo that highlights his broad back, trim waist, and overall muscular physique. A grin spreads across my lips as my gaze travels up and down his body.

"I can read your mind, Claire, and no. You may not take advantage of me, devour me, or drag me into a corner. You"ll force me to cancel this party that"s growing into an event so far removed from a birthday celebration."

I laugh as he holds his hand out to me. Staff for the event move around the house in a flurry of activity. There"s a buzz in the air that something exciting is going to happen. The guests arrive and Edward, although in a tux as a guest, can"t stop himself from overseeing security personnel. He"s obsessed with protecting Julian, and now I"m on that list of people he goes above and beyond to keep safe.

"Is he going to relax?" I ask Julian.

He shrugs. "I doubt it. The large crowds don"t exactly calm him down. Come, let"s head to the ballroom. We must be there to accept the guests."

I walk arm-in-arm with Julian into the room where strings of crystals hang at varying lengths from the twenty-foot-high ceilings, giving the appearance of stars twinkling above the dance floor. The polished dark cherry walls have lighting that brightens up the room to contrast against the maroon and silver color scheme around the room. It"s beautiful, better than I would ever think to put together. There"s an arrangement of tables, clad in burgundy and silver linens, strategically spaced around the room where everything is formally informal, if that"s even a thing?

Servers walk around with trays of hors d"oeuvres and glasses of champagne. One wall holds a line of tables where the caterers have an assortment of food from stuffed mushrooms, cute salad bowls, and bite-sized servings of typical entrees. It"s almost as if Julian wanted people to eat, but not to gorge or anchor themselves to the tables. Everything is made to be held in your hand without appearing like a slob who must hunch over a plate to eat. The event is mostly for socializing and networking, and the menu encourages that.

Thirty feet of glass doors open onto the travertine stone patio that showcases the pristinely trimmed back lawn. Julian and I stand a few feet away from the entrance to the ballroom as guests are announced.

There"s a host amongst the event staff that handles questions and directs guests to their seats, as well as announcing their arrival.

"Announcing, Carmine Scarpella," the host says to us. Julian"s entire body goes rigid as his grip tightens around my hand.

"Who the fuck invited him?" He snarls into my ear.

Confusion wars with anxiety as something"s clearly wrong. I have to jerk my hand from his vice-like grasp as I tell him, "I did."