I needed to prove I could do it. I could be a normal woman and go on a normal date with a normal man.
The dinner was arrangedat Le Coucou, an upscale French restaurant.
When I stepped inside, the elegant, hushed atmosphere wrapped around me at once. Crystal chandeliers cast soft light; the air carried the rich scent of good red wine. Comforting.
"Anthea?" A warm, cultured voice called from ahead. "Over here."
I looked up and saw the man standing beside the table, raising a hand in greeting. He wore a beautifully tailored gray suit, posture straight, hair immaculately combed. Gold-rimmed glasses sat on his strong nose, softening the sharpness that might otherwise have been in those blue eyes, leaving only gentleness and courtesy.
The Julian of my memory had grown into a refined, gentlemanly man—the polar opposite of Silas.
"Julian." I smiled and walked over, extending my hand. "It's been a long time."
He took my hand, then stepped forward for a polite, restrained hug. A faint, clean woody cologne reached me—refreshing, calming, completely lacking the aggressive edge that had always clung to Silas.
"My God, Anthea." He released me, genuine wonder in his gaze. "You've become... stunning. I almost didn't recognize you."
"You've changed, too, Mr. Big-Shot Lawyer. You didn't used to wear glasses." I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
He laughed. "You remember that? Back then, you were still terrified of caterpillars."
Talking about childhood memories dissolved the awkwardness of years apart almost immediately.
Once we were seated, the waiter brought menus.
"I heard from your mother that you've all been living in the UK these past few years?" he asked casually while cutting into his steak. "How's life been?"
My fingers tightened around the knife, but I kept my smile polite.
"Fine. Teaching, day-to-day stuff. You know—British weather makes you want to hide indoors forever."
"No... special someone?" He lifted his eyes, looking at me through his lenses.
A pair of storm-gray eyes flashed in my mind.
"No. After we moved to London, I've just been focused on work." I took a sip of wine; it tasted dry. "Romance has felt... too expensive for me."
Julian set down his knife and fork. He reached across the table and gently covered the back of my hand with his. His palm was dry and warm. My fingers twitched involuntarily.
"I'm so sorry, Anthea," he said quietly, voice full of compassion. "When your family ran into trouble... I had just finished my master's and was studying for the bar. I didn't even know about the bankruptcy until later. By the time I heard your family had left the States... I was worried about you for a long time."
He didn't know the truth. He only knew about the bankruptcy—not that I had been sold.
"It's over now, Julian." I used the excuse of reaching for my napkinto gently withdraw my hand. "I'm doing well. The debts are cleared, and I've just been offered a position at Rosewood Academy."
"Rosewood? That's an excellent private school—top-tier resources." He nodded approvingly. "Congratulations. You'd be perfect there."
Julian was excellent at keeping a conversation alive. He talked about his time at Oxford law school, about becoming a family-law attorney, about the years of hard work and growth.
I listened, offered occasional comments, but never mentioned what happened in America. He was gentleman enough not to press.
"So when are you planning to head back to the States?" he asked over coffee after the meal.
"Probably next week."
He looked at me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "If you ever run into any trouble in New York—anything at all—call me."
I met his gaze. The light gilded the edges of his face. I didn't say no.
