CLAIRE
The past few weeks had settled into a rhythm I hadn't expected, Julian worked from the penthouse most days, taking calls in different languages while I managed orders and coordinated with Nina on the second production run.
We'd fall into easy conversation over coffee in the mornings, compare notes on our days over dinner in the evenings. It felt comfortable.
But there were moments when I'd catch him watching me, or when our hands would brush reaching for the same thing, and the air between us would shift into something heavier, neither of us acknowledged it.
We just kept moving forward, pretending the tension wasn't building.bI was responding to a customer email when Julian walked into the living room, his phone pressed to his ear.
"I understand," he said, his voice clipped an
