"When?"
"Saturday night."
"And you're just telling me now? Vivienne Ellis, I'm hurt." Lydia's mock indignation quickly gave way to genuine curiosity. "Where did you meet him? What's he like? Is he cute? Please tell me he's not another academic who wants to discuss the Byzantine Empire over dinner."
Despite my nerves, I laughed. "Definitely not an academic."
"Good. You need someone who can pull you out of your head occasionally." Lydia leaned forward, eyes bright with interest. "So what does he do?"
This was the part I had been dreading. How could I explain Julian without sounding completely out of my mind?Oh, he's just a world-famous fashion designer who's worth more than a decade of our school's annual budget and wants to dress me for an exclusive gallery opening.
"He's in fashion," I said carefully.
"Ooh, creative type. I like it already. How did you meet?"
I took a sip of coffee, buying time. "At a club downtown. My friend Melissa was supposed to meet me there, but she bailed, and these guys were bothering me, and he sort of... rescued me."
"Ooh, a gallant knight saving the damsel in distress!"
"Something like that." The memory of Julian's quiet authority, the way he'd made those men disappear with just a few words, sent heat flooding to my cheeks. "We ended up having dinner together."
"And?"
"And what?"
Lydia gave me a look. "Vivienne. You're practically glowing, you've been checking your phone every five minutes, and you have that dreamy expression that usually means someone got very thoroughly kissed. So don't 'and what' me."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "We... had a nice time."
"A nice time," Lydia repeated flatly. "That's what you're going with?"
"He's taking me to a gallery opening Friday night."
"Now we're getting somewhere. What kind of gallery opening?"
"Something exclusive downtown. He's..." I hesitated, then decided to trust my friend with at least part of the truth. "He's designing something for me to wear."
Lydia's eyebrows shot up. "He's what now?"
"He designs clothes. For a living. And he offered to make something for me to wear."
"Holy shit, Vivienne. That's... that's huge. You of all people should know how intimate that is! Designing something specifically for someone?" Lydia set down her coffee, studying my face intently. "This isn't just some casual thing, is it?"
"I don't know what it is," I admitted. "It all happened so fast, and he's... he's not like anyone I've ever met before."
"Good different or scary different?"
"Both." The word slipped out before I could stop it, and I realized it was true. Julian did scare me—not physically, but in the way he made me feel, the way he looked at me like I was something precious and complicated at the same time.
"Have you talked to him since then?"
"We've been texting." I pulled out my phone, scrolling through our brief but charged exchanges. "He's been asking about preferences for the design. Colors, fabrics, that sort of thing."
Lydia leaned over to peek at the screen. "His texts are very… precise."
"He's very precise." I thought about the careful way Julian moved, spoke, touched. Even in passion, there had been something controlled about him, something that suggested depths I hadn't begun to explore.
"When are you seeing him again?"
