Chapter 42 Third Place At The Table
There was a pause before Seraphina spoke. “I think she works for you,” she said coolly, her gaze never quite touching Joanne’s as she stood just inside the doorway. She waited for Julian to say something, but he said nothing at the moment.
Joanne turned to her with a disarming grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “I do. I’m his assistant. Or secretary, technically. So you stay here? I never knew. I guess my boss couldn’t wait till you guys properly wed, haha.” Her voice was breezy as she eyed the pink pajamas Seraphina had on.
Seraphina refused to read meanings to her disturbing words. Her eyes flicked to Julian instead. “I didn’t realize you were busy.”
“I wasn’t expecting her,” he admitted truthfully, his tone curt but grounded.
Seraphina didn’t understand why she was bothered by Joanne’s presence. Whatever Julian does with other women should be none of her business. Her focus should be on the deal between them. Yet, here she was- unsettled and ready to turn.
“I will just…I will be upstairs…waiting for you.” Seraphina said.
Joanne chimed in too quickly. “Please stay. I made pasta, and there’s enough for three. I always over cook.” She gestured lightly towards indoor. “Unless, of course, you’re watching carbs?”
Julian wasn’t expecting Joanne to ask Seraphina to stay. He wasn’t comfortable with the idea, considering his history with Joanne.
Seraphina, who had just been taken aback for knowing Joanne cooked privately for Julian- gave a polite smile with no warmth. “I’ll stay. I was actually craving pasta.”
Joanne’s face twitched for a split second, but she recovered, leading the way back into the kitchen where the table had been set.
“You look beautiful by the way, babe.” Julian complimented Seraphina, catching her offguard, then she remembered they were currently fake-engaged and that meant, having to pretend in Joanne’s presence.
With all pleasure, Seraphina said, “For you always, babe.” Julian’s jaw clenched. It felt real. He guided her in, his hand resting on her lower back.
The three of them finally settled around the dining table, none speaking as they prepared to eat.
Julian served first, making a quiet effort to avoid eye contact with either woman for too long. Seraphina sat across from him because for some reason unknown to her, Joanne took the seat beside him, angled slightly toward his side as if to claim her proximity.
Seraphina hadn’t been able to sleep properly for days now. She had been dreaming about Maris and still finding it hard to accept she was dead, even after what she learned about her.
She had come here, hoping Julian’s warmth would help her calm again, just like it had a couple of nights ago. Joye had let her know she would find him here.
“So,” Joanne started, swirling her fork into her plate, “how did you two meet?” Her question was directed to Seraphina.
Julian paused mid-motion, eyes flicking to Seraphina’s. He hadn’t expected her to be questioned so directly. Not this soon. But Seraphina didn’t look fazed.
“We met years ago,” she said, her voice smooth. “At a bar actually. I’d had too much to drink. My father had just died. I told him to fuck the grief out of me. He did.”
Julian’s fork clinked against his plate.
Joanne blinked once, her smile faltering for the first time since Seraphina arrived. “Oh. That’s… honest.”
“Isn’t it?” Seraphina asked, lips curling into a smile that wasn’t sweet at all. “I believe in getting to the point.”
Julian remained calm as he muttered, “Clearly.” Then his gaze flicked to Seraphina, only for a moment.
Joanne dabbed her napkin slowly at the corner of her mouth. “Well, I suppose that kind of history can lead to… interesting dynamics.” She took a sip of water. “I didn’t realize you’d known each other that long. Julian doesn’t keep long relationships, so this is news.” She chuckled.
“Or really?” Seraphina asked, noticing how Joanne addressed him by his name casually.
Joanne smiled, her voice light, but audible. “Oh, yes. He barely had time for relationships. Busy rich men like my boss prefer flings over emotional loads, yunno.”
“Really?” Seraphina leaned back, her voice coated in amusement. “And you know that about him?”
“I’ve worked with him for years.” Joanne sipped from the cup “You tend to notice things about a man when you're at his side that long.”
Julian cleared his throat, fighting the urge to tell Joanne to keep her razor tongue in her mouth. “Joanne is actually my oldest friend. She knows quite a few things about me.”
“Oh?” Seraphina turned to him, one brow arched. “I thought she’s only your secretary. She seems to knows a lot about you- truly.” She needed to play the real fiancé part. She couldn’t act like she wasn’t bothered by Joanne's analysis of him.
Joanne chuckled, the sound tight. “It’s not that deep. He’s my boss afterall.”
“No, I’m sure it’s not.” Seraphina murmured, hating the tense air.
The room cooled by a few degrees.
Joanne turned to Julian. “Remember that week in Madrid? When you nearly missed the flight and made me run through the airport like a madwoman?”
Julian gave a faint nod, barely amused. “Why talk about that all of a sudden?”
“The memory just came to me. I laugh hard anytime I remember.” Joanne’s voice dropped into something softer. She noticed that Seraphina was no longer engaging her.
“I’m surprised he’s eating pasta today. He barely eats real food lately. Right, Sera?” Julian almost sent Joanne a glare but he didn’t need more tension so he just focused on his food.
Seraphina set down her glass gently. “Oh…I really don’t know about that. And you seem to know a lot about what he eats.”
Joanne tilted her head with a soft shrug. “I care about my boss. He can be so neglectful of himself when no one’s watching. You on the other hand… Well, maybe he deserves a nonchalant fiancee afterall. I mean, isn't he so mean?” She chuckled in that hypocritical manner of hers.
There it was.
Julian tensed. Seraphina, for a heartbeat, didn’t move. She expected Julian to correct her, but he said nothing. Then she reached for her fork again and took a bite with exaggerated calm.
“It’s still so early in our engagement,” she said, stressing the word, “Julian and I prefer to keep things fresh and light. But I think that’s part of the charm. Unwrapping someone slowly. Bit by bit.”
Julian almost choked on his water as he read a different meaning to the last parts of her words. Seraphina didn’t even blink.
Joanne gave a brittle laugh. “You’re quite… composed. I like that.”
“Thank you. So are you. It must be hard, being a personal assistant and having to balance loyalty and… personal attachments.”
Before Joanne could reply, Julian reached across the table just as a streak of sauce painted itself on the corner of Seraphina’s mouth.
He leaned forward, brushed his thumb gently across the smear, and wiped it clean with a slowness that stilled the entire table. His fingers lingered half a second too long, his thumb grazing her lower lip.
Seraphina’s breath caught.
Her gaze locked with his.
A sensational connection passed between them, thick enough to bother. A flicker of something…from history.
Joanne shifted slightly in her chair, clearing her throat too loud.
“Pasta’s getting cold,” she muttered.
Julian pulled back. “Right. Sorry.”
Seraphina didn’t speak. She just resumed eating, her mind anything but calm.
The rest of the meal passed in strange intervals—between questions wrapped in honey, and answers dipped in acid.
By the time Joanne stood to leave for the living room, Seraphina had learned more about Julian’s past than she’d wanted to, and less than she needed.
Joanne gathered her bag with a small smile. “Thanks for letting me enjoy my night with the two most talked about couples in town.”
Julian nodded. “We sure do enjoy your company, Joanne.”
Seraphina didn’t reply.
As she left for the living room, the silence that followed was deafening.
Julian ran a hand through his hair. “Joanne can be a lot to handle atimes. But I…”
“I’m not so invested in her. It’s pretty obvious you both possibly had a thing or still have a thing which I actually don’t care about.” Seraphina said, standing to clear her plate.
Julian walked over and caught her wrist gently. “Are you mad?”
Seraphina didn’t reply. She simply looked down at his hand, the touch creating a kind of feeling that should never be there, then back into his eyes.
“I should go,” she said softly, blinking. “Before your secretary thinks I’m sleeping over.”
She pulled away, but not before his fingers tightened slightly—just for a second. As if he wasn’t quite ready to let her go.
Julian snorted, “You are not playing your part in the fake engagement well. If we were truly engaged, you would sleep over since you’re here already, and you wouldn’t leave a woman that isn’t family at my place. We don’t want to leave her suspicious, do we?”