"So it's recent, too." Emily looks grim.
"I don't know what hurts more." I mope, "That he was possibly still married, or that he didn't think enough about us to tell me about it. I mean, isn't that something you'd mention sometime? Especially on a ten hour flight to Paris! It's not as if he didn't have an opportunity."
Emily puts a hand on my shoulder. "You care about him, don't you?"
I shrug, but I know they see right through me. "A little. A lot." Callie gives me a look. "OK, I'm completely head over heels for him," I finally admit. "I told myself to keep it professional. But I just … I couldn't help but be swept up in it all. He's not like any other man I've ever met. As cliché as that sounds."
"But now what?" Emily asks.
"I don't even know." I think for a minute. I can't go back to not caring about him. It's not that easy. I can't block him completely out since I'm still his intern.
So where does that leave me?
The doorbell rings and we all look at each other.
Emily gets up. "You better not have ordered pizza, Callie. I've got lasagna in the oven!"
She opens the door wide. A man stands there with a long white box tied in a red ribbon.
"Juliet Evans?"
I brush crumbs off my shirt and get to my feet. "That's me."
He hands me the box. Callie and Em peek over my shoulder. There's a card on the top, and I open it right there in the doorway.
"What's it say?" Emily asks.
I'm sorry.
It's written in Dominic's flowing cursive. It's only two little words, but I read them again and feel a surge of regret. Does he mean it, or is this another lavish gesture that won't mean anything in the end?
"Oh, he's smooth. See what's in the box!" Callie impatiently pulls it open.
It's one of the dresses from the boutique in Paris. Laying on top is a diamond necklace that matches my bracelet.
Callie snorts. "Girl, you must be really good in bed."
I know I should laugh off the attempt to buy my favor, but my emotions are a mess. Then there's the sound of footsteps on the stairs. The delivery guy moves aside, and then Dominic is in front of me, filling the doorframe.
My heart flutters in my chest.
"That's our cue," Emily says, dragging Callie into the back room. The delivery guy leaves.
We're alone.
I stare at Dominic, still hurt. "You're supposed to be at the party."
"I need to be right here." A muscle jumps in the side of his jaw. "We have to talk."
"So talk." I take a breath to calm my nerves. I can't believe just a few hours ago I was on cloud nine, and now I don't even know how to feel. I'm hurt, betrayed. But his pull on me is still going strong.
Dom looks tense. "What do you need to know?"
Everything.
I start with, "How long have you been divorced?" I ask, sounding calmer than I feel.
He doesn't look at me. "A month or so."
I think back. We met roughly a month ago … so, was he still married when I first slept with him? I feel sick. "That's about the time we met."
"So?"
"What do you mean, so?" I echo. "Were you still with her when I met you?"
I've been trying not to think that I was just an intern to him, just a fuck. It's changed now, I know, but I still can't shake that feeling.
Dom looks reluctant. "I don't have time for jealousy, Juliet. Lillian and I were over a long time ago. She's my past. And I need to move forward."
"But in all the time we've spent together, you never once thought to bring her up?"
Dom is blank. "Why would I?"
Because that's what people in relationships do! I want to scream it at him, but I don't. He never promised a relationship. He never promised anything. My eyes sting and I know my composure is going to slip.
Then Dom softens. I see real regret in his eyes as he reaches to take my hand. "Juliet, Lillian was a hard time in my life. Everything about our marriage was … difficult. I wanted to put it behind me, start over. That's why I didn't tell you. You were a chance for a fresh start. To wipe the slate clean."
His words strike through me, tugging at my heart. We both take a step at the same time, but he touches me first. I lean into the warmth of him, letting it chase away the pain and the doubt.
"I'd like to start over with you." Dom says, cradling me to him. "Be my date to the gala tomorrow night."
"You mean not as your intern?"
"My date, who also happens to be a brilliant intern." He smiles.
He loops a hand around my neck and leans down to kiss me. It's sweet and heated and leaves me breathless.
I pull back to catch my breath, realizing that I've crumpled the card in my hand. I show it to him as he slowly sets me down.
"You know, Rexford, this is the first time you've actually apologized to me."
"Hopefully, I won't have to do much more of that." His smile is humble and apologetic and the lightness inside me feels like it has no end.
Apparently Dominic and I didn't need Paris to be happy, just the dimly lit hallway in my crappy building.
"So, will you be my date?"
How could I refuse?
"Of course I will."
I can't wait to see how good starting over is going to be.
Chapter Eleven
The gala is the social event of the year – just the way we planned it. People are lined up outside, press is everywhere. As Dominic and I get out of the limo in front of The Rexford, I hear the click, click, click of cameras, see the flash in the corner of my eye. I'm nervous, but I focus on him as we enter and head for the ballroom. He looks amazing in a fitted tux, with a green pocket square that matches my dress. It's one slip of fabric, but leaves no mistake that he and I are together. For the first time, I'm not afraid to display what's between us.
He doesn't seem worried about it, either, as he keeps me intimately close to his side.
The grand lobby is flooded with Chicago's society, mingling and perusing displays set up along the walls. Dominic heads to the middle of the room, but I pull back as something catches my eye.
"Look at this."
A series of blown up canvases are artfully lined up on the wall, each displaying handwritten book entries from famous guests. I sourced them all after hours spent combing the old guest books Dominic loaned me.
The Rexford is my second favorite palace. -Grace Kelly.
That one is my favorite, followed by Al Capone's scribbled signature taking up an entire page.
"The event is a hit!" Sheila from the PR company greets me with a socialite hug and an air kiss on each cheek. "These guest book entries and the blueprints from the original hotel were incredible ideas, Juliet."
I'm elated and feel like I'm floating. "I can't take all the credit. The team did great work."
"We did. I hope we get to work together again soon." She raises her champagne glass in a toast and moves away to speak with someone else. I know I should be humble, and I am. But I've never had such a sense of accomplishment before and yeah, I did do a great job. I'm proud of me.
When I see the appreciative way Dominic is looking at me, I know he's proud of me, too.
He puts a hand on my lower back and guides me to a quiet alcove. "Sheila is right. You did a great job. Your ideas are fresh and you've shown me that you're not afraid to work hard."
I flush under the compliment. "Thank you."
"There's an opening in the corporate office," he continues. "You're a perfect fit."
I blink because I'm sure I heard him wrong. Just to be sure, I eye my champagne glass. Nope, still full, so I can't blame it on a buzz.
"Dominic, are you offering me a job?"
"Yes."
I make a disbelieving sound and hold my glass tighter to keep from dropping it. I'm two seconds away from throwing my arms around him, or busting out The Carlton happy dance. This is incredible! "I don't know what to say." I stammer.
He doesn't move toward me or touch me in any way, and I realize he's giving me space to make my choice. It's not much of a choice at all.
Everything I've dreamed about since starting college is coming true. A job at The Rexford is my ultimate goal, and he's giving it to me weeks before my internship is even over. Sure, I nailed ideas for the gala, but is that really enough to earn a coveted position here? Or is there another reason?
I look down, not sure how to ask. "Are you doing this because of us?"
He gives me a look. "I would never risk the company over personal feelings, Juliet. You've earned this."
"Okay," I say, finally starting to believe him. "Yes. Yes, I accept!"
I step into him, needing the searing heat of his kiss.
"There you are, big brother," Xander interrupts us. He's dressed in a flashy navy pinstripe suit, his white shirt open over his tanned skin. "Am I interrupting?"
"Seriously?" Dom growls. "What do you think?"
I know the brothers have a complex relationship, but I can't help but feel sorry for the younger Rexford. He seems lost, disconnected, yet he has a spark of interest that might flame if Dominic would give it a chance.