Chapter 12
By the time I finished sorting things out with the property manager, it was past midnight.
I collapsed onto the couch, starving.
That’s when I remembered that night. After we were done, the guy had energy to spare. He wandered into the kitchen and made me a plate of pasta.
He had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, a bare chest, and an apron tied casually around his hips.
I’m not gonna lie–it was a good view.
The pasta wasn’t anything fancy, but it smelled amazing. And it tasted even better.
He propped his chin on one hand, watching me eat like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. “You’re not picky at all,” he said, smiling. “Easy to cook for.”
And in that moment, I realized something. He didn’t think that night was just a one–time thing.
So the next morning, I walked out, deleted his contact, and called HR.
I arranged for a severance package and had him let go.
Yeah, I felt a little guilty.
I was the one who made the first move–and then I tossed him aside like it meant nothing.
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But according to HR, he didn’t argue. In fact, he seemed relieved.
Then the doorbell rang.
I figured it was the property manager again.
I opened the door–and froze.
It had only been a month, but something about him had changed.
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Same face, same body–but the obedient assistant act was gone. Now, he leaned lazily against the frame, arms crossed, wearing a look that said he had nothing to lose.
“Julia,” he said, cool and slow. “I heard you’re planning to let some other guy raise my baby?”
Right then, a message popped up on my phone.
It was from Sabrina. “Julia! Isn’t that your new assistant?”
I looked up, surprised.
“Wait, you’re the youngest of the Dawson family from Las Vegas!”
***
The year I graduated college was the year everything went off the rails.
My mom had finally had enough of my dad’s constant cheating and flew overseas to escape.
And me? I was being pushed into marrying Ryan–a guy I barely knew–to secure some business alliance between our families.
So I rebelled the only way I knew how. Bars, parties, hot strangers. I burned through them fast–anyone who could help me forget the life I
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didn’t choose.
On the day of my official meeting with Ryan, my family arranged a private dinner for me.
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I told Sabrina I wanted to ruin it. I had her hook me up with a handsome guy.
“I’m here. Where’s your guy?”
“He’s waiting for you at the door upstairs, wearing a white shirt. Can’t miss him he’s really handsome.”
A guy was leaning by the door, one hand holding his phone, a cigarette between his fingers.
I didn’t get a good look, but yeah, he was definitely handsome.
I grabbed him and pulled him along.
“Come with me.”
At that moment, all I could think about was how to sabotage my engagement to Ryan. I didn’t even notice the flicker of surprise that flashed through his eyes.
We walked straight to the private room. But by the time I turned around, he was gone.
I cursed Sabrina for screwing up the plan. She gave me a weird look. “We waited for you forever. Where’d you go?”
Turns out I dragged the wrong guy.
To this day, it’s still one of my most embarrassing memories.
If Jason hadn’t told me, I would never have realized that the guy I
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accidentally dragged away that year was him.
Later, when he found out I actually married Ryan, he scoffed, “So you really went through with it, huh?”
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When he heard that I had actually gotten married, he was so angry that he left to study abroad the next day.
Years later, applying to be my assistant was a spur–of–the–moment decision.
Getting close to me? That was the plan.
Getting even? That was the payoff.
Throughout my pregnancy, Jason stuck by me every single day.
“Julia! We agreed–our babies? We raise them ourselves.”
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