Julia was packing for her trip to London while Elliot sat on the bed watching her like a hawk.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asked for the third time, exasperated.

“Are you sure you don’t remember sleepwalking this morning?” he asked, squinting those gray eyes in her direction.

When he made that face, the lines around his temples deepened, making him look even more serious. Julia wanted to smooth them with her fingertips, but didn’t.

“Elliot, you’ve asked me that already. The last thing I remember is you playing with my hair. Then I woke up this morning. That’s it.”

“You just seemed really upset, that’s all. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

What was the point in rehashing the embarrassment she felt about crying in front of Elliot about a dream llama and a pair of boots? And she was embarrassed. Mortifyingly and devastatingly embarrassed. Usually, she faced things head on, unable to hide her feelings, but this was too much. She just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t explain to him how screwed up she was or that she had deep-seated fears about people hurting her and taking her things, stealing her life and leaving her with nothing.

Another expensive session with her therapist was on the horizon and she was sure it would come up. The problem, but never a solution.

Elliot seemed half-appeased for the moment, then he pulled a pair of lacy thong underwear out of her bag, dangling them from a fingertip.

“What do you need these for?”

“You’d rather I wore none?” she asked.

“I’d rather you wear the most hideous pair of granny panties the world has ever seen,” he admitted with a scowl at the offending undergarment. “Not these.”

“Granny panties don’t go well under the dress I’m planning to wear.”

“But these do?” he asked, holding them up with his thumbs.

Julia snatched them out of his hands. “Yes.”

She picked up and double-checked three shoeboxes. 

“How do you check shoeboxes?” he asked curiously, watching her packing process with interest. He touched everything she put in the bag, inspecting her toiletries and running thick fingers across delicate fabrics.

“I don’t,” she admitted. “I’m the only passenger on the plane so I can bring pretty much take however much I need.”

“I guess it’s good being the boss,” he murmured.

“It makes you uncomfortable.”

“That you have money?”

She let out a huff and continued packing. “I have more than money, Elliot. Sometimes, it makes people uncomfortable.”

He reached out a hand and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her to stand between his knees. His dark hair was damp from a shower, slicked back, and shining in the morning sun. The freckles across the bridge of his nose were starting to get darker, the spring sun giving them life. His eyes though, snared her and refused to let her look away, like being caught in a web, soft and silky but consuming. The more she felt like she should look away and retreat, the less she wanted to. Instead, she longed to get lost in his thoughtful gaze.

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said, his dark brows shifting down. “But I have no interest in you paying my way.”

He fiddled with the end of her long braid.

“You don’t want to be a kept man.” Julia read between the lines.

He chuckled and gave her braid a tug, pulling her down on top of him. “Babe, you can keep me anytime. Anywhere.”

* * *

The next morning, Elliot stood on the porch and waved goodbye as Julia and Kelsey left for the airport. He’d grabbed her and kissed her until she was out of breath, whispered something unfathomably dirty in her ear, and sent her off with what could have been construed as a derogatory pat on her ass, and she’d liked it.

“Well, he’s totally unexpected,” Kelsey said with a smirk.

“I know,” Julia muttered thoughtfully.

“I thought he was all broody and serious so he’d be perfect for you. Turns out, he’s all take-charge and sexy, and kind of charming and dark,” she mused. “He’s perfect for you.”

“He’s not all take charge,” Julia confessed. “Just sometimes.”

“Oh!” Kelsey grinned. “Do tell.”

Julia rolled her eyes. “Pass.”

“This guy is hot, sexy, charming, and totally into you.”

“I know.” Julia agreed. “He’s distracting.”

“That’s the best kind of distracting, if you ask me,” Kelsey said. “And if anyone could use distraction, it’s you. You should have taken him to London with you.”

“To meet my father?” Julia asked.

Kelsey shrugged grudgingly. “Maybe not the best time for that. You’re right. That’s why you’re the boss, but you take your few days and enjoy them. When you come back, we’re going to sign those papers and you’ll be free.”

Julia had loved building H-Surf, and Kelsey had been with her almost every step of the way, but it had become larger than she intended and it was no longer a place she loved. She still loved the mission and it still served its customers well, but it wasn’t where she wanted to be anymore.

It had become too much and she was happy to wash her hands of it.

“Can I ask a favor?” Julia looked to her assistant.

“Always.”

“I need you to set something up for me.”

* * *

Julia and her father, Bram, had a tenuous relationship that they’d worked hard on over the years. Every few months they got together and spent time getting to know each other. They usually visited museums or saw shows, and while it was awkward at first, they had relaxed into an easy friendship with time.

This visit, Julia invested herself in the time she spent with him and they delved further into their relationship, so much so, that her father even commented on it.

“Something seems different this time, Jules,” he said, tucking her under his while they strolled to an art gallery she’d found listed for sale on H-Surf. “You seem more content.”

“I think I am,” she admitted, Elliot’s face popping into her mind.

“Is it the sale or the move from the city?” he asked. “Because either way, you seem good.”

“I think it’s both,” she admitted quietly and shrugged. “And I met a man.”

“A man, huh?” A smile lit his face, a dimple appearing on his cheek. “Should I sit him down for the intentions chat?”

“I’d rather you didn’t, Dad.” Her own lips tilted up at the thought of Bram sitting Elliot down for a man-to-man talk.

“Wow,” her father marveled. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Dad and that I’ve seen you smile in years.”

Julia just shrugged, not sure what to say.

“So, who is this guy?” Bram asked. 

She looked over at him as they walked down the street, looking young for his fifty-three years. His hair was still the same chestnut brown as hers, not a gray in sight, chin length and tucked behind his ears. He was tall and slim, dressed today in pristine slim jeans and a sport coat. She knew though, that underneath that sport coat was some kind of rock T-shirt and tattoos, as was his usual uniform. His fingers were covered in silver rings and he had some of his fingernails painted black. He would always be a rocker, through and through, or so he said.

“His name is Elliot. He’s one of the contractors working on my house.” 

Bram let out a laugh. “Oh, I bet your grandmother loves that.”

Julia, however, didn’t even smile. “We haven’t spoken.”

Her father took gentle hold of her arm to stop her from walking and pulled her aside. “And your mother?”

It was a tricky subject, though her parents hadn’t laid eyes on each other in decades. Her mother was not the woman he’d thought she was. They’d had an intense, but brief, affair. She’d sold him a story about being a runaway and having no place else to go, tagging along with his band from town to town. Eventually, they’d gotten together for a short fling but when she’d turned up pregnant, he’d sent her packing.

He wasn’t proud of it, he’d told her. He hadn’t mean to cause anyone any harm. He’d been young and dumb, strung out on living the life of a rock star and wanting to be free. He hadn’t even considered the long-term ramifications of what he’d done until Julia had shown up on his doorstep at seventeen.

“Husband number three ran into some gambling debt and they needed a loan. When I wouldn’t give it to them, she divorced him. Husband number four came in right after that and has an idea for a tech startup she’s been trying to pitch to me for months. I stopped taking their calls.”

“Jules…” He started but then just shook his head and looked away.

“What?”

“Your grandparents?”

“Haven’t talked to them in years.”

He already knew that, so she didn’t know why he was asking. One of the reasons she’d discontinued contact with her grandparents was because she wanted to feel like a success and they’d never let her. They’d degraded her about everything. She never looked right, her hair wasn’t the right texture and she didn’t style it the way they wanted it to. She was too short, too heavy. Her ideas weren’t business-minded enough, she didn’t fit in with their idea of success, and even when she became successful, it wasn’t enough. Then she wasn’t marketing the way they thought she should, wasn’t hiring the way they thought she should.

There were other reasons, too. Much darker and more personal reasons, as well. Like the fact that she caught her grandmother crushing diet pills and sedatives into her food more than once or that they’d locked Julia in her room for days at a time when she was child before sending her to live in the pool house with a stranger taking care of her.

In her eyes, the time for a relationship with her grandparents had come and gone. She’d grown up enough to not need them. In fact, she liked that she didn’t really need anyone.

She noticed that her father wasn’t exactly looking her in the eye.

“What?” she asked again.

“Nothing,” he hedged. “I’d just heard that your grandfather had been ill.”

Julia wondered if she was supposed to feel something at that news, because the fact of the matter was, she didn’t feel anything about it.

“And?” she asked.

While a few seconds ago, Bram couldn’t meet her eyes, now he seemed to be looking too closely.

“You don’t care that your grandfather may be sick?”

It was times like these she remembered how much she and her father don’t really know each other.

“Not particularly,” she responded honestly. “But it would explain why my grandmother and her valet have been calling me recently. I assumed it was because of the H-Surf sale.”

“A valet.” Bram rolled his eyes. “You know a construction worker isn’t going to fit in with them?”

“A contractor,” Julia corrected.

“Oh, right. My mistake.” They began walking again, almost to the gallery. “A contractor is probably right on par with a musician,” he mused as they walked, comparing himself to Elliot in relation to her grandparent’s expectations, and although the situation was much different, he had a point.

“I don’t think Elliot would care what the Louziers thought of him one way or the other. He’s not the kind of man that’s into people pleasing.”

“Smart man,” her father commented. “What’s he like?”

Julia thought about that for a minute. “He’s interesting. Hardworking. Creative. Intense.”

“Ugly?” her father pushed.

Julia let out a small laugh. “Hardly.”

“Feeble?”

Julia leaned in and bumped her shoulder against his. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, so he’s young and handsome and hearty. I get it.”

“Well, young might be a stretch,” she said as she opened the large glass door of the gallery and held it for her father.

It was beautiful. Full of colorful canvases and gleaming sculptures. Julia was immediately engrossed in another world of creativity. She wondered if buying an art gallery in London was a good investment.

Bram trailed behind her quickly. “What do you mean he’s not young?” he asked. “How old is this guy?”

Julia just shook her head while never looking away from what she knew would be her newest acquisition. It didn’t matter how old Elliot was or wasn’t. All she knew was that when she was with him, none of that mattered. He made her feel more like a real person, more like herself, than she’d ever felt before. And when she was with him, he made her feel something she’d never felt before.

Cherished.