Chapter 42 The Ghost's Name
The private jet touched down in Savannah, Georgia a while later. It landed with a soft jolt that finally pulled Elena out of her thoughts.
The flight had been a little worrisome until she finally found sleep. She kept thinking about Francis’s text, the words "the clock is ticking" looping in her head like a broken record.
But every time she looked at Julian, he acted as if the world outside their cabin didn't exist.
"Welcome to the South," Julian said, offering his hand as they stepped off the plane.
Julian didn't wait for a car service; he had a vintage black convertible waiting for them near the hangar. He tossed their bags into the tiny trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat, looking more relaxed than Elena had ever seen him.
"Savannah?" Elena asked, leaning back into the leather seat as he pulled out onto the road. "Why here?"
"It’s a city built for the perfect love stories," Julian said, glancing at her with a small smile. "I thought it would suit us. No one here cares about the Vance empire or corporate law."
He drove through the historic district, and Elena couldn't help but feed her eyes.
They pulled up to a luxury boutique hotel that looked more like a restored mansion.
The staff seemed to know him, but they didn't bow or scrape like the butlers in Chicago. They just smiled and handed him a heavy brass key.
Inside the suite, the windows were open, letting in the sound of the fountain in the front yard.
Julian dropped the bags on the floor and walked over to Elena, who was standing by the balcony.
"Unpack later," he said, reaching out to pull her toward him. He looked younger in the natural light and even more handsome. "I want to get out before the sun starts to set."
"Where are we going?" she asked, feeling a flutter in her stomach.
"Ice cream," he said simply. "I heard you had a sweet tooth when you were a kid. Leopold’s is just a few blocks away."
Elena blinked. "How do you know I liked ice cream as a kid?"
Julian just winked and led her out the door.
Walking down the cobblestone streets, Julian was different. He wasn't the "defense attorney" or the "protector" she had grown used to.
He was just a man on a date. He held her hand firmly, his thumb rubbing small circles over her knuckles.
He pointed out the architecture, told her jokes about the local ghosts, and even stopped to buy her a single yellow flower from a street vendor, leaving her a wad of cash that shocked the old lady.
When they got to the ice cream shop, the line was out the door. Julian didn't try to pull rank or skip the queue.
He stood in the heat with her, talking about nothing in particular, his arm draped casually over her shoulders.
"Double scoop of mint chip for the lady," Julian told the girl behind the counter, "and chocolate for me."
They walked out with their cones, Elena laughing as a bit of hers started to melt in the humidity.
Julian reached over with a napkin, wiping a stray drop from the corner of her mouth. He was being so sweet, so attentive, that for a moment, the image of him in that basement with a scalpel felt like a different life.
"You're surprisingly good at this," Elena said, licking her spoon.
"At what?"
"Being normal," she said, blushing.
Julian laughed. "I have my moments."
They made their way toward Forsyth Park. The massive white fountain at the center was spraying a fine mist into the air.
The park was full of people, couples sitting on blankets, artists painting under the trees, and tourists taking photos.
As they walked past a group of elderly women sitting on a bench, one of them looked up and smiled. "Oh, what a handsome couple you two make! You look like you belong in a magazine."
Julian didn't look annoyed. He smiled back, his grip on Elena’s hand tightening slightly. "Thank you, ma'am. I'm just lucky she said yes to the trip."
"Can I take a picture of you both?" a young girl with a camera asked, stepping forward. "The light hitting the fountain behind you is perfect."
Elena looked at Julian, expecting him to refuse. He hated being documented. But to her shock, he nodded.
"Sure," he said.
He pulled Elena in close, his arm wrapping around her waist. Elena rested her head against his shoulder, looking up at him just as the shutter clicked.
Julian looked down at her in that exact moment and Elena felt her heart skip.
"You’re beautiful, Elena," he whispered, loud enough only for her to hear.
The girl showed them the photo on the digital screen. They looked perfect. Like a husband and wife who had been in love for a lifetime.
Elena felt a pang of guilt. Francis was waiting for her tomorrow. She was supposed to be at a hotel in Chicago, paying off a blackmailer. Instead, she was here, being adored by a man who was hiding dark secrets from her.
This was all part of the negotiation all because of Eva. Once again, her sister was messing her life up.
They walked further into the park and Julian was telling her about a case he’d won years ago when he was just starting out. This was the first time he was talking about his life.
"It wasn't about the money," he was saying. "It was just about the fact that the person had no one else to stand up for—"
Elena listened carefully but just then, she heard a voice from behind.
"Samson?"
The voice was loud and full of disbelief.
Julian froze and his entire body went rigid.
Elena turned, looking toward a woman standing there. She looked to be in her late twenties, with bright blonde hair and eyes that were wide with shock. She was staring at Julian as if she had seen a ghost.
"Samson?" she repeated, her voice cracking. "Is that really you?"
Elena looked at Julian. He was staring at the woman, his face deathly pale. He didn't speak. He didn't move.
"Oh my God, it is you!" the woman cried.
Before Elena could say a word, the woman dropped her water bottle and sprinted toward them and threw herself at Julian, her arms wrapping around his neck in a desperate, crushing hug.