Chapter 180
Nora's POV
I stayed in there longer than necessary, texting Benjamin in a panic.
Is he still out there?
Yep. Brought coffee and pastries for everyone. Very generous.
I groaned, pressing my forehead against the cool tile wall.
Is he leaving anytime soon?
Doesn't look like it. He said he's here for "private business." Pretty sure he's waiting for you.
I wanted to scream.
Another text buzzed through.
Also, he specifically set aside a caramel macchiato. Your favorite.
That did it. I couldn't hide in here forever.
I took a deep breath, smoothed my hair, and walked back out.
---
The office was in full social mode. Julian stood near the break area, coffee cups and pastry boxes spread across the table, my coworkers clustered around him like he was holding court. He looked completely at ease, answering questions with that calm, authoritative tone that made people hang on his every word.
Then he saw me.
"Nora." He waved me over. "Come here a second."
Every eye in the room swiveled toward me.
I forced my legs to move, crossing to him on autopilot. He picked up a cup from the table and held it out.
"I saved this for you."
I took it, my fingers trembling slightly. The label read Caramel Macchiato. Extra foam.
"Thank you," I managed.
At exactly five o'clock, Julian glanced at his watch and looked at me. "You're not working overtime today?"
I nodded mutely. "No overtime today."
Vincent leaned forward, curiosity written all over his face. "Mr. Sterling, the 'private business' you mentioned earlier—what exactly...?"
Julian didn't hesitate. His unwavering gaze fixed on me.
Then he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Private business means I'm here to pick up my girlfriend."
The office exploded.
Gasps. Whispers.
I stared at him, my brain completely offline.
He extended a hand. "Ready to go?"
I took it, because what else was I supposed to do?
---
The second we were in the car, I turned on him. "You couldn't have warned me?"
He buckled his seatbelt, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "If I'd warned you, would you have agreed?"
"That's not the point—"
"You're going to be the number one topic of gossip tomorrow," he said mildly. "Hope you're prepared."
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "I can't believe you just did that."
"Believe it." He reached over, tugging my hands away from my face. "And for the record? I'm not sorry."
I glared at him. He smiled.
"You went to my aunt and uncle," I said, my voice low. "Without telling me."
His expression sobered. "I did. Because I'm serious about this, Nora. About us. I don't want you to feel like this relationship is something I'm hiding. I want the people you love to know my intentions."
"And those intentions are...?"
"To marry you." He said it so simply, so plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Eventually. When you're ready."
My throat tightened. "Julian—"
"I'm not asking you to say yes right now," he said. "I'm just asking you to trust me. Can you do that?"
I looked at him—the man who had fought for me every step of the way.
"Yes," I whispered. "I can."
"Julian... will we always be together?"
The question hung in the air, fragile and real.
He leaned closer, his silver eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made me hold my breath. "Ten years, twenty years, or even a hundred years—we'll always be together."
He paused, his voice taking on a playful edge. "As long as you don't fall for someone else."
A shaky laugh escaped me as I reached up to punch his shoulder. "You're the one who would."
"Never." He caught my hand and brought it to his lips. "You're not getting away from me, baby."
---
The next morning, I walked into the office and immediately regretted it.
The second I stepped through the door, conversations stopped. Heads turned. Eyes locked onto me like I'd just announced I was running for president.
"Morning, Nora!" Benjamin called out, grinning like an idiot.
I waved at him and made a beeline for my desk, praying no one would—
"So," Vincent appeared at my elbow, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. "Federal Inspector General, huh?"
I kept my eyes on my computer screen. "Good morning."
"Girl, you've been holding out on us." Vincent rolled his chair over, looking far too entertained. "How long has this been going on?"
"A while," I muttered, opening a random file just to look busy.
"A while?" A female coworker leaned against my desk. "Define 'a while.'"
"Long enough." I clicked through folders aimlessly. "Can we not do this right now?"
"Oh, we're absolutely doing this right now," Vincent said. "Does he come every time, or was yesterday special?"
I shot him a look.
Before he could press further, my supervisor's voice cut through the chatter. "Grey! My office. Now."
I'd never been so grateful for my boss in my life.
I stood, ignoring the knowing looks from my coworkers, and headed for the supervisor's office.
Everything seemed ordinary until the supervisor appeared at my desk with a gilt-edged invitation.
"Vaughn Mining Group's thirtieth anniversary gala," he announced, setting the card on my desk. "They've invited major media outlets across Silverton. I want you there representing the station."
My pen stopped mid-stroke. Vaughn. The name alone made my stomach tighten.
"Director, I..." I picked my words carefully, keeping my voice professional. "I have some personal history with the Vaughn family. It might not be appropriate for me to attend."
He frowned, clearly not expecting resistance. "Nora, this is work. You'd be covering the event, doing standard promotional shoots and brief interviews—not attending a family reunion. And honestly? Vaughn Mining's influence in this region..." He trailed off meaningfully. "If we're absent, it reflects poorly on the department." He paused, then added, "You're our most outstanding reporter. An occasion like this needs your professional judgment."
I stared at the invitation, my fingertips drumming against the desk. He was right about the professional angle. I couldn't let old wounds dictate my career decisions.
"Let me think about it," I said finally. "I'll give you an answer tomorrow."
He nodded, satisfied, and left me alone with the embossed card glaring up from my desk.