Chapter 69
Nora's POV
Henry: Is everything okay with your car? Do you need me to come back?
I stared at the message. Henry was generous. But Julian was the one standing here. Julian was the one who called roadside assistance. Julian was the one who wouldn't leave.
I typed back quickly: I'm fine. Called roadside assistance.
I looked up at Julian, who was still leaning against the pillar, watching me with those unreadable eyes.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
His expression softened slightly. "See? I'm reliable, aren't I?"
I couldn't argue with that.
Ten minutes later, a yellow truck pulled into the garage. The technician worked quickly, swapping out the flat tire for the spare. When he finished, he gave me a warning. "This is just a temporary spare. You need to get a proper tire at a shop as soon as possible. Don't drive over fifty miles per hour."
I nodded and thanked him. As he drove off, I reached for my car keys.
Julian's hand closed over mine.
"I'm driving you," he said firmly. "Safety first. You're not taking any risks with a spare tire in this weather."
I looked up at the garage ceiling, where faint traces of sleet were already starting to fall through the ventilation grates. The roads would be slick soon.
"Fine," I said, too tired to argue.
I climbed into the passenger seat of Julian's Lincoln Navigator. The interior was warm, the leather seats soft beneath me. I glanced at the driver's seat and realized something.
"Ethan isn't with you today?"
Julian started the engine. "I gave him the day off."
I nodded, settling back into the seat.
Then he added, his tone light but pointed, "What, not worried about Phillips anymore? Now you're concerned about Ethan?"
I closed my eyes and counted to three. "I was just making small talk, Mr. Sterling."
He chuckled softly, and I felt the car begin to move.
I leaned my head against the window, watching the lights of the parking garage blur past. My mind was spinning, exhaustion pulling at every muscle.
Just one day without seeing him, and he's turned into this? Where did the cold, efficient, no-nonsense Julian Sterling go? And who is this sulking, jealous, petty man sitting next to me?
---
Henry's POV
The steering wheel felt warm under my palms as I navigated through Silverton's evening traffic. My phone sat in the cup holder, silent but heavy with implications. The department head's call had been brief, urgent, and utterly unexpected.
"Henry, get back here. Now. The mayor's office just released the transition team roster. Your name's on it."
I'd worked for the city's Public Works Department for three years. "Deputy Director" sounded impressive on paper, but the reality was less glamorous—endless budget meetings, infrastructure crises, and watching less qualified people climb higher because they had the right last name or the right uncle on the city council.
But the Federal Inspector General's arrival had changed everything. The rumors had been flying for days—officials placed on administrative leave, sudden resignations, whispered fears about federal audits. And now, apparently, they needed people with clean records. People like me, who'd kept their heads down and done their jobs without backroom deals.
The parking garage of city hall was nearly empty when I arrived. I took the elevator up to the seventh floor, where the mayor's suite occupied prime real estate. My hands were sweating. This could be it. This could be the break I've been waiting for.
The department head met me at the door, his usual stern expression replaced by something approaching warmth. He clapped me on the shoulder. "Henry. Congratulations. The mayor's office needs people like you." He handed me a manila folder. "Senior Policy Advisor. You'll be coordinating between city departments. Report to the transition team tomorrow morning at nine."
I tried to speak, but my throat had gone dry. "Thank you, sir. I won't let you down."
"I know you won't. Now go celebrate."
I left his office in a daze, clutching the folder like a lifeline. The hallway seemed brighter, the fluorescent lights less harsh. This is real. This is actually happening.
On my way out, I stopped in the restroom to splash cold water on my face. Two colleagues were talking by the sinks, oblivious to my presence in one of the stalls.
"Did you hear about Public Utilities? Director got hauled off by the FBI. Word is he'd been skimming off construction contracts for years."
"The feds aren't playing around this time. The mayor's power has been basically cut in half. Half the departments are being restructured."
"Lucky break for Phillips, though. Kid's got a spotless record, no political connections. That's exactly what they're looking for."
"Makes sense. Can't trust the old guard—they're all tied to someone. And the new sycophants are just as bad. Someone like Henry, who's been quietly doing the work and never taking sides? That's gold right now."
I turned off the faucet and left without saying a word. The conversation followed me down the hallway. No political connections. The thing I'd always resented was now my greatest asset.
I'd never met the Federal Inspector General. But the man's reputation preceded him—ruthless, efficient, powerful political backing.
The other federal appointees who came through here were all talk. Speeches and photo ops, then back to the capital. But him? He's actually trying to change things.
---
Nora's POV
Julian's black Lincoln Navigator moved smoothly through the evening traffic, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. I sat rigid in the passenger seat, my hands folded tightly in my lap, hyperaware of every small movement he made.
He'd been trying to make conversation for the past ten minutes, and I'd been shutting him down at every turn. I couldn't help it. Part of me was still annoyed about the forehead flick. Who does that? The Federal Inspector General, apparently. The man who could launch federal investigations with a single word had just... flicked my forehead like I was a misbehaving child.
It should have been infuriating. It was infuriating. But there was also something disarmingly human about it, something that made my carefully constructed walls feel flimsy and inadequate.
My phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down at the screen.
Henry: Nora, I got selected for the mayor's transition team. I'm reporting tomorrow morning. Are you free for dinner tomorrow? Just to celebrate?
My chest tightened. I could feel Julian's eyes on me, even though he was ostensibly focused on the road. I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. His jaw was set, his fingers gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly.