“Very nice,” he said.
“Does it bother you?”
He paused, not sure what she could be meaning. “Does what bother me?”
“That we’re from two different worlds.”
“Last I checked, we’re both from planet Earth. Men aren’t really from Mars and women from Venus, no matter what a book says.” He smirked at her, hoping his teasing would wipe away the slight crease between her eyes.
“You know what I mean. You belong to a group of people who have wealth and privilege. People who would own a place like this. I belong to the group of people who serve your people. I am, essentially, the help.”
“This isn’t Regency England, Martha. Upstairs-downstairs class distinctions don’t really exist anymore.”
“Oh, they definitely still exist.” She looked down at her feet and fiddled with the hem of her sweater.
Julien saw it, how their upbringing and the fact she was the daughter of his parents’ hired help, worried her. For him, it was a nonissue. He hadn’t even considered it. But, as she’d pointed out, that was probably his privilege talking. And the fact he was worried about more imminent challenges—like telling her that her dreams of publishing with King were once again shattered.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat.
One hard discussion at a time.
Stepping close to her, he hooked a finger under her chin and encouraged her to lift her face. “I realize only a person with money would ever really say this, but money isn’t the most important thing in the world. And I think you agree. Otherwise you would have deposited that check I gave you into your personal account instead of handing it over to the library.”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“I know you better than you think I do.” He looked deep into her eyes, letting himself get lost there for just a moment. “Besides, one of the benefits of dating at our age is that some of the things that seemed like a big deal in our early twenties just aren’t anymore. We’ve grown beyond our childhood and matured into our own people. We know what we want now. You’ve already said you want me, and I think you know I want you too.”
He placed a soft kiss on her forehead, hoping his words and actions dispelled any misgivings she had. “Now, are you ready for dinner?”
She locked the door behind them, and Julien followed her down the stairs. Now that he’d hopefully allayed one of her concerns, he weighed his options on when would be the righttime to broach the news about Squire. Should he jump into it right away like she’d done so they could talk about it and then hopefully move on to an enjoyable evening? Or would the news spoil the whole rest of the night?
As much as he didn’t want to bring up anything that could dampen their time together, he couldn’t keep this from her either. It was too big. It was something, if left unsaid, that could turn into an even bigger misunderstanding. He didn’t want to start their relationship on that kind of foundation.
He opened the car door for her, then walked around to his side and climbed in. He glanced over at her, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to put the conversation off any longer. The least he could do was tell her when she still had the privacy to react authentically without the need to mask because of an audience. Needing a physical connection, he reached over the center console and threaded his fingers with hers.
Martha sucked in a sharp breath.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
She sandwiched his hand between both of hers. “Yes, it’s just ... well, this is slightly embarrassing, but I had a huge crush on you growing up. So in my mind I just squealed and said, ‘Julien King is holding my hand!’” She rolled her eyes. “Very mature of me, I know.”
“You had a crush on me?” His dad had been right. An inexorable amount of pleasure filled his chest.
“Very unoriginal, huh? Just me, living out the plot ofSabrina.”
“Am I Linus or David Larrabee in this scenario? Wait. Don’t answer that. Only one of them gets Audrey Hepburn in the end.”
She laughed, and the sound both lifted his spirits and pierced him between the ribs. No more putting this off. It was time to tell her.
“Martha, I need to talk to you about something that happened at work today.”
Her hand tightened its hold on his slightly before her fingers relaxed again. “I know this is going to sound like a strange request, but can we not talk about work? Just for today.”
Well, that was not at all what he’d thought she’d say.
“It’s just that everything between us has been about work since we reconnected. The whole reason we’re back in each other’s lives is because of work. Any time we’ve spent together, it’s been because of work. And our careers are important, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we should never discuss them. Just, I thought it would be nice if, for tonight, we set work aside. We explore us outside of our jobs.” She looked over at Julien, gauging his reaction. “Is that okay?”
Relief, he was ashamed to admit, washed over him. Everything she said made sense. Their relationship from the time she’d stepped foot inside his office until they’d flown back from Florida had been tethered by a mutual work-related need. He could see why she’d want to spend their first real date together discussing something other than manuscripts and acquisitions.
