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“I’ve missed you,” Jules said. Vivian cleared her throat. “Well,” she said, “you’ll see me tomorrow.” “I haven’t seen you since Wednesday.” “I came by your apartment on Thursday.” “Not what I meant.” “Julia…” “I meant I haven’t seen some of my favorite parts of you since Wednesday.” “Julia!” Now Vivian sounded almost scandalized. Jules grinned. “Well, it’s true.” “You’ll—like I said. Tomorrow.” “Not soon enough,” Jules said. Vivian’s breath caught again. “Have you missed me too?” “I, uh…” Vivian said, then admitted, “Yes.” “Any particular parts of me?”
Hahahahaha
“All you have to do is just be, and you’ll drive me crazy. Does that make you happy?” “Yes,” Vivian repeated—gulped, really. “Good.” Jules smiled. “So…you’ll let me, won’t you?” Vivian’s voice dropped down into a low rasping register as she asked, “Let you what?” Jules closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Strip you off, lay you down, and fuck you.” “Oh,” Vivian said after a few seconds, “well.”
“I’m just packing up all these lovely presents.” Vivian cleared her throat. “There might be one more.” Jules looked at her quickly and saw that her cheeks were even pinker. “Really,” she said. Vivian nodded. Hell yeah. Whatever this was, Jules was one hundred percent here for it. “Gee, why isn’t it here with all the other stuff?” “You’re infuriating,” Vivian said very calmly for someone blushing.
She was wearing the gown she’d worn on New Year’s Eve. The night Jules had realized how far she’d fallen for Vivian when faced with all of her beauty and grace. Jules’s eyes widened. Her heart stopped. She couldn’t breathe. Her skin heated as if with a fever. It was official: Vivian Carlisle was a medical condition.
“Goodnight. I, um, I love you.” There was a moment of silence. And then another one. It felt like it lasted for years.
“Did you mean it?” Vivian demanded. “Huh?” Then Jules woke up just a little more. “Oh, my God,” she said and mashed her face into her pillow. “Well, did you?” Vivian said. “I’ve been lying awake for hours—” “I haven’t,” Jules said, lifting her face back up. “You woke me up. Again.” Although maybe that was a good thing. Having this conversation in broad daylight would have terrified her. It was easier when she was groggy and pissed off. “Of course I meant it.”
“That jumpsuit is no longer for public consumption. That jumpsuit is for me.”
“I like you best,” Vivian said, “in nothing at all.”
“Coming prematurely, rolling over, and going to sleep,” Vivian mused. “I think I married a few men like you.” “Vivian!” Vivian snickered. “That was mean!”
hahahahahahah
Just like with the Amouage perfume, she’d seen more in Jules than Jules could see in herself.
“You didn’t have much of a poker face when I did exactly that on New Year’s Eve in my dress. I wondered if you were about to rush me then and there.”
“And afterward you did everything I needed, everything I asked without complaint, without asking for anything in return. I noticed this. I told you I noticed this. Have you forgotten?”
“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Jules said, beyond frustrated. “Because it’s really starting to sound like you’re saying you needed me because I was there!” “I did!” Vivian shouted. It was the first time she’d raised her voice all night. It was the first time she’d raised her voice to Jules ever. “I needed you because you were there, and you were there because I needed you. At times like that, you learn who your real friends are. I saw what kind of person you were. Are you actually blaming me for finding that attractive? Should we have had a deep conversation where I explained this to you
...more
“Well, I’m sorry,” Jules said, clenching her hands into fists and sounding anything but sorry. “I’m sorry you can’t believe that I want you to say you love me.” “Well, I can’t believe it,” Vivian snapped. “You should already know.”
“You tell me every night that you love me.” The snarl in Vivian’s voice made the hairs on Jules’s arms stand up. “All while you’re working for the man who stuck a knife in my back and preparing for a nice little chat with the woman who tried to steal you from me.”
Damn
“It would be so easy for me to be suspicious, but I’m not. And do you know why? Because when you say you love me, I believe you.
“I wouldn’t seem in control? If I punished Simon, everyone in the industry would see firsthand what happens when you cross me. Revenge isn’t best served cold. I like it piping hot.”
“We should keep talking!” They really should. Jules had no idea why she was hoisting herself onto the counter instead. “Weren’t you listening?” Vivian’s words were cool; the high color in her face looked anything but. “I like showing, not telling. Pull these down.”
But then all of a sudden, Vivian’s foot didn’t have a shoe on it anymore and it was rubbing gently up and down Jules’s ankle. Footsie. Vivian was playing footsie with her. And she was in that golden dress and she smelled of sandalwood and her eyes were sparkling, and Jules really, really wished she was less susceptible because she was trying to be indignant, confused, and indignantly confused. But that was going to be tough when Vivian was giving off her very best fuck-me vibe like there was no tomorrow.
Hahbagahahahahah
“You’re beautiful,” Vivian groaned. The raw need in her voice made Jules’s head spin. So did the golden silk of her gown, like and unlike the dress on New Year’s Eve in the way it moved and hung on her body. “Like a rose,” Vivian continued dreamily, smiling against Jules’s mouth, stroking over the burgundy fabric at Jules’s shoulder. “Petals and thorns. I want them both.”
“Everyone else calls me Jules. Why don’t you?” Vivian hummed. “I wondered if you’d ever ask me that.” “So what’s the answer?” “Julia is elegant. Musical, even. I like how it sounds, and I don’t want to use a nickname.” Vivian nestled in closer to Jules. “That’s how it started, anyway.” Damn. Sex was making her voluble tonight. Jules wasn’t going to waste a moment of this. “And now?” “As you said yourself, everyone else calls you Jules.” Vivian gave her a long look. “I’m not everyone else.”
Don’t spread yourself too thin.” He paused. “Don’t kill yourself for somebody who won’t return the favor.”
“Okay, I really don’t know how else I can put this,” Jules said. “I know it’s fine. I love my job. I love you more. I don’t want to miss you.”
“One more thing. If you do say yes, you’re not bringing that god-awful sofa. My house isn’t an IKEA.”
Lol
“My sofa isn’t IKEA,” Jules said, “but I can live without it. Just as long as I don’t have to live without you.”
“Now what am I supposed to call you? My partner?” Her lip curled as if the notion was too prosaic for words. “How about your piece of ass?” Jules suggested. “Julia,” Vivian said reprovingly, but her lips twitched. “Your number-one babe.” “No.” Vivian turned and headed for the bar. Jules accompanied her. “Your hottie.” “Not that either.” They reached the bar. The bartender smiled at Vivian. “Good evening, ma’am. What can I get for you?” “Perrier.” “Sure thing. Anything for your friend?” “Oh, she’s not my friend,” Vivian said. “She’s my pain in the neck.”
Lol
Vivian looked back and shrugged. “What? I don’t use labels. I wear them.
“It’ll be all right, my love,” Vivian said softly. Next thing Jules knew, she was standing in the kitchen on wobbly knees. Her cheeks burned. In place of coherent thought, her brain ran the fuzzy buzz of radio static. You’re a goner, she thought, as she came back to herself. She calls you “my love” and you have an out-of-body experience right in front of your parents.
“I always do what it takes. Haven’t you noticed?” Jules felt breathless. “Do what it takes to—” “To keep you.” Vivian looked her right in the eyes. “To keep you with me, and to keep them off our backs. I don’t want a rift between you and your parents. It’d come between us too.”
Jules couldn’t look away from Vivian to keep up with the medical details. She’d never look away again. There was no other sight like this in the world.
Everyone was breathing just fine—except for Jules, who’d lost her breath the moment she’d seen Vivian in her New Year’s Eve gown and hadn’t gotten it back since.
In spite of their solitude, Vivian’s voice was quiet when she said, “I do more than care for you. I love you. You know that.” Jules blinked. Suddenly, Central Park looked blurry across the street and she had a lump in her throat. She turned to Vivian, who said nothing about her tears but gave her a small, affectionate smile.
One thing was certain in this life: loving Vivian Carlisle would never, ever go out of style.
