Accidental Fiancé (Unintentionally Yours #5)

2. Julian

Chapter 2

Julian

I pulled my car up to the valet, gave him my keys, then strolled into The Manchester Hotel. It was one of the nicer hotels in the city, and whenever consultants visited from abroad, my executive assistant often arranged for them to stay there. According to Inga, they had the smoothest sheets on the comfiest beds. I never asked how she knew that. No sense in creating HR drama for my company.

The interior was classy and polished. The front desk staff politely directed me to the location of the reunion after giving me my key card and sending my luggage to my room. So far, I felt good about my out-of-town consultants staying at The Manchester. As soon as I reached the doors to the ballroom, I stopped and pulled my phone out. I had to make a call before I went inside.

I stepped out of the way of a few revelers so I didn’t block the door as I waited for her to pick up. Piper’s sleepy voice answered, “Hello?”

It made me instantly smile. “Hey, Pip.”

“Hi, Pop.”

My daughter had been dealing with night terrors lately, and the doctor’s theory was that her circadian rhythm was off. She suggested I allow her to set her own bedtimes at her own pace instead of me setting them for her. Which meant her babysitter had to cooperate with Pip’s timetable as well.

Rena was a good babysitter—one of the best we’d had, actually—but she was still a teenager, and she let slip that she was going to study for a test after Piper went to bed. I was calling to check on her as much as Piper. “Rena getting you ready for bed?”

“I’m in bed now.”

It was only just after nine. “Did you want to go to bed now?”

“I’m tired.”

“Did Rena tell you that you should go to bed?”

She giggled. “I really am tired, Pop.”

“Okay, then. I want you to sleep well, have sweet dreams, and remember I love you very much.”

She said it back and added, “Dream about cake.”

“Why cake?”

“So that you have sweet dreams.” She giggled after she said it.

I couldn’t help but smile. Piper was only four, but she was smart and witty. “Alright, Pip. Cake dreams for you too then.”

The line went dead, and a wave of sadness hit me. It was always that way whenever I hung up with her. But as I heard the beats of old hits from high school pulsing through the wall, I allowed myself to get distracted and threw open the doors to the ballroom.

School colors haunted the massive space, rose and gray dripping from the ceiling, the chairs, the tables and the bar. Confetti stuck to the chilled flutes of cheap champagne and littered the floor. I’d always hated our school colors, but they went with the school’s theme since it was Rosewood High School.

Named for the woody stems of the rose farms that were our suburb’s lifeblood, RHS was nothing if not a living, breathing theme. Our school mascot was a rose, perhaps the dullest of all school mascots throughout the history of man. The main rivals of our school had a tiger, a devil, and a lightning bolt for their mascots. I had always been embarrassed to be a rose. We were teased often and we never stood a chance.

But it wasn’t all bad. The fact we had a historically long losing streak didn’t stop us from having school spirit and good times under the Friday night lights for football games. That was the kind of people we were—no matter how many times life kicked us down, we picked ourselves up and tried again.

Tonight, however, wasn’t about all the times we fell down. A reunion was about seeing old friends and reconnecting. After the hell I’d been through over the past two years I could use that.

I signed in and took my nametag, affixing it to my suit lapel. Lindsey Panier smiled up at me. “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“Why is that?”

“Don’t you usually spend your weekends yachting or something?”

I snorted out a laugh. “Not generally, no.”

“That’s what it says online.”

“Life on the internet and real life rarely intersect.”

“Well, we’re glad you could make it. Have a good time.”

“I will, thanks.” The line for the bar was mercifully short, and once I had my whiskey in hand, I scanned the crowd for Tim Drake and Victor Clyburn. We’d lost touch over the years, and the older I got, the more I learned the old adage was true—it was harder to make friends as adults.

Tim stood with a woman I didn’t recognize and two men I knew from back in the day but couldn’t quite remember their names. I was dying to know how things turned out for Tim, and while I could have looked him up, I knew better than to trust the internet for information.

Tim had been a straight-A student, dual-enrolled in college courses as he finished his high school diploma early. Considering he graduated with the class before ours thanks to all that hard work, I was surprised to learn he’d be here, but I was just as glad to see him. “Hey, Tim.”

“Julian Black, holy shit, you actually came!” he said, yanking me into a bear hug. Tim’s blond hair had gone a little thin on top, but otherwise, he still looked like the guy I knew from back in the day. Taller than me, fit, and smiling. “This is Andra, my wife.”

“Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand. She was pretty and at least ten years older than the rest of us, with chin-length brown hair and green eyes that crinkled when she smiled. By the depth of those crinkles, she smiled a lot. “Did you two meet in college?”

“You could say that,” she said with a shy smirk.

Tim explained, “Andra was my advisor.”

“He always had a thing for older women,” one of the other guys teased. His nametag read, Will Jones. The second man I didn’t recognize was Lewis Penn. Thank God for nametags.

Andra was unfazed by Will’s teasing. “That works for me. I’ve always liked younger men.”

We had a laugh, and I asked, “So, Tim, what are you doing these days?”

“Not much.”

“Not much?” Andra asked, astounded at his answer. She beamed. “He’s the lead researcher on a project that could end world hunger.”

“Oh?”

He shook his head, smiling at her. “She’s overstating it. We’re manipulating the genetic code in certain grains to be able to withstand drought, flood, and high wind conditions to help them survive climate change in order to maintain production while we get our weather back under control.”

Lewis tapped Tim on his chest with the back of his hand. “Sounds like ending world hunger to me, man.”

“See?” Andra insisted, still grinning at her husband.

“What about you, Lewis?” I asked.

He smiled. “Don’t follow sports, do you?”

“Not really. Are you an athlete?” He looked like he wouldn’t qualify for a bowling league, but what did I know? I wasn’t much of a sports fan outside of high school.

“Nah, I’m an announcer for ESPN.”

“That’s huge! Congratulations!”

He shrugged. “It’s not ending world hunger but it’s a fun living.”

Andra asked, “And Will, what about you?”

“I’m a vet.”

“Thank you for your service.”

“Sorry, veterinarian. No thanks needed.”

She giggled, then whispered into Tim’s ear, turning his cheeks pink. He’d always been too innocent for his own good. I was glad to see he was with someone who clearly appreciated that about him.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I think I need to take her dancing. Gentlemen, excuse us.” He took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

“They make a good couple,” I noted. “How come no one asked what I do?”

Will and Lewis exchanged a glance and laughed. Will asked, “Are you kidding?”

“Everyone knows what you do,” Lewis added.

“We didn’t think you’d be able to come here and make time for us peasants.”

“Why wouldn’t I come here?”

“You run a multi-billion-dollar medical company,” Will said. “I would think that takes up most of your time. Black-Aster is one of the biggest companies in the market, hell, I think you make all of the products in my medicine cabinet.”

“And my shower,” Lewis mumbled.

I shrugged. “Okay, sure. I’m a busy guy, but that isn’t even our best stuff.”

“How’s that?” Will asked.

“Our best products come from our prosthetics and mobility devices. That’s the shit I’m proud of. The products in your bathrooms and medicine cabinets pays the bills for helping to develop all of that, so thanks for keeping us in business.”

“What do you mean?”

“Products for the disabled community have a lot of overhead. R&D, customization, training, materials—all of that is pricy and the backend cost of those products runs high. Since we try to provide them at the lowest cost possible, those costs are offset by the shampoo, the body wash, the boner pills, and everything else we make. The more of that stuff you buy, the cheaper we can make custom prosthetic legs for veterans.”

“I’m a humanitarian and even I didn’t know that,” Lewis joked.

Beyond the crowd I spotted Victor Clyburn. As I started to wave him over, a flash of teal blue caught the corner of my eye before the rest of the package, and I couldn’t look away.

Long, curly brown hair draped down her back, and the dress clung to her round ass. My breath caught in my chest. I would have known that ass and that hair anywhere. She pivoted to her left, and there stood Maggie Bryant, stuck in a sea of awful, a forced fake smile on her face. It wasn’t the kind of smile the others wore. This one was made out of uncomfortable desperation.

Hell hadn’t frozen over so there was no possible way she had become friends with Chloe Foster, Emma Gonzalez, or Harmony Piedmont, no matter how many years had passed since they used to torment her. There were forgivable things in the world, and then there were the things they had done to Maggie.

She was trapped, and just like in high school, I had to help her. “Excuse me. I see someone I need to catch up with.” I left before they could say a word.

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