The Allure Of Julian Lefray Part 10

"Yup," she replied with a thin, fake smile. "Fine."

I was about to question her answer when she glanced up and met my eye. The emotion there warned me not to push the subject.

"About this weekend," she began.

"What about it?" I asked.

She rounded the back of the couch as a smile crept onto her face.

"Does Dean have a margarita machine on that crazy-a.s.s boat of his or are we going to have to stop and rent one on the way?"

I burst out laughing. Even in the middle of a stressful morning, Jo had a way of surprising me.

"Libations aplenty." I grinned. "I promise."

Chapter Fifteen.

What Jo Wore Post #1257: A little help from my friends...

Comments: 120 Likes: 1130 Today's post is a little different. I won't be sharing any outfits or accessories with you guys. Instead, it's confession time.

My move to New York has been really hard. My parents weren't thrilled with my decision to leave Texas (to put it lightly), and because of it, my mom and I haven't talked in weeks.

That's never happened before.

It's hard not to think that maybe I've made the wrong decision in coming here, especially since I know how nervous they are about it. I'll be honest, this city is NOT all suns.h.i.+ne and daisies. It's stressful and intimidating. It'd be a lot easier if I had some family here, but I don't. They're all a billion miles away.

New York was my dream and it still is. I'm not ready to give up on it yet.

In the meantime, do you guys have any advice on how I should convince my parents that I'm doing the right thing? That just maybe I know what I'm doing?

Let me know what you think.

Until tomorrow, XOJO.

Josephine On top of my have-to-do-something-soon-or-I'll-be-homeless money problems, there was another issue weighing on my mind since I'd moved to New York: I hadn't talked to my mom in weeks. Not once. She refused to accept my decision to move to New York and I knew if I called her, she'd try to convince me that I'd made a huge mistake by moving away from Texas.

I'd a.s.sumed that she or my dad would have made more of an effort to keep in touch. I guess they thought I'd made my bed and now I had to lie in it. Well I'd be d.a.m.ned if I told them that my current bed was a used futon with a lumpy rock trying to pa.s.s itself off as a mattress. Every night I drifted off to the gentle sounds of my upstairs neighbors tromping around like a herd of elephants.

It wasn't perfect, but I was in New York and it'd take a lot more than a c.r.a.ppy bed to convince me to move back home. Like, oh, I don't know...my mountain of student debt. I pushed the thought away as I started to get ready for a day out on the boat. There was no point in dwelling on it. I'd be okay for a little longer. Julian had paid me early and I'd put most of it toward my outstanding loan.

I'd already started to look for another job, something I could do in the evenings. The night before, after a gla.s.s of $5 wine, I'd perused the pages of Craigslist, trying to stay away from the call girl ads in favor of something more suited to my degree.

I'd had a hard enough time finding the position with Julian. The chances of finding another job that would allow me the flexibility to continue full time at Lorena Lefray were slim to none. Still, I'd made a mental note to search around for jobs when I got home that night. Dreams were fun and all, but I didn't have the luxury of living in New York and pursuing mine scot-free. When I'd packed my bags and left for greener pastures, I'd known that my decision had come with strings attached. Unfortunately, it now looked like those strings were more like chains.

Chapter Sixteen.

Josephine The moment we arrived at the marina, I realized I'd made a huge mistake. Julian punched in the private access code and two wrought iron gates stirred to life. A brick-paved drive lined with rose bushes led us toward the guest parking lot. Attendants in white oxfords and starched slacks zipped around on golf carts, helping guests at the marina and ensuring that everything was running as it should be.

I stared out the window as I unclicked my seatbelt. Dread was already swimming in my stomach.

"Uhhh, I thought we were going boating," I said, focused on a group of gorgeous girls stepping out of a Mercedes SUV a few yards away from us. They might as well have been in ball gowns compared to my outfit.

Julian peered over my shoulder and I turned to meet his eye. Whereas I probably looked like I'd just seen a ghost, Julian looked calm and collected.

"We are," he said.

"No. We're going yachting," I said, pointing toward the rows of ma.s.sive sailboats that lined the front of the marina. "Those girls are wearing designer dresses and high heels."

I was wearing a colorful, short cover-up over a royal blue bikini. I had on gold strappy sandals and I looked cute-as-f.u.c.k. Did I, however, look like I was about to go yachting with New York City's upper elite? No. I probably would have fit in better at the Jersey Sh.o.r.e between Snooki and JWoww.

Julian's gaze drifted down, taking me in inch by inch, and then he smiled as he met my eyes once again.

"I think you look great."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please."

From our vantage point, I could see the guests who'd arrived before me. The women were definitely the ones from the SUV beside ours, and I could already see their layers of jewelry and vintage scarves from yards away. Gag me. I hadn't realized I was spending the morning with the future Queens of England.

"Normally in Texas, boating means taking a s.h.i.+tty boat out on the water and then docking it as soon as possible so that you can float around in the water and drink beer."

Julian smiled. "Ah, I see. I guess I should have mentioned that Dean has a yacht."

"Yes. I see that now, obviously. I look so out of place in this outfit. Apparently I should have put on some starched khakis."

Julian cracked up. "You look amazing. I promise."

"We both know why you're saying that," I offered with a pointed stare.

I wasn't an idiot. I'd been well-endowed since the age of thirteen. My chest had a way of making even the most self-respecting men babble every now and then.

He nibbled on his bottom lip for a second and then reached for the hem of his s.h.i.+rt. "All right, let's swap outfits."

I squeezed my eyes shut as laughter overtook me.

"I'm fairly certain you'd look hideous in this bikini, but thanks for the offer."

I held up my hand, pleading with him to stop. The guests on the sailboat had surely seen us by now. We probably looked like weirdos just sitting in the car.

I took a deep breath and pushed my insecurities aside. "It's fine. I mean you're wearing swim trunks, so it can't be that bad that I'm in a bikini."

Julian nodded and hopped out of the car so he could get my door. He offered me a rea.s.suring smile before grabbing the bag from my shoulder. I'd stuffed in a towel and some snacks in case Dean wasn't one to provide food. There was no way I'd last all day out on a boat without some Cheez-Its to hold me over.

We continued on toward Dean's boat. The closer we got, the more I realized just how large it was. A family of ten could have easily lived on the d.a.m.n thing and I bet Dean took it out maybe five times a year, tops. Jeez.

Julian ushered me toward the bridge that connected the dock to the yacht, but before I could step forward, he reached out for my elbow to stop me. I stared down at his hand and then looked up to see him concealing a devious smile.

"I'll be honest," he said with a smirk. "I knew you'd be underdressed as soon as I picked you up."

I narrowed my eyes.

"And you didn't tell me to change?" I asked.

"I decided I'd rather be selfish," he answered, finally releasing the mischievous grin he'd been doing his best to hide. Julian wanted to see me in a bikini. What a stupid t.u.r.d.

"You suck, Julian," I said, turning so quickly I almost ran directly into Dean's chest.

I hadn't even realized he was so close.

"Here here," Dean said, holding his beer in the air to show his agreement.

Julian laughed and kept hold of my elbow as I stepped forward onto the boat. Once I was sure of myself, I stepped out of his grasp and took in Dean, instantly feeling better about my outfit.

The girls I'd seen might have been dressed to the nines, but Dean was ready to party. He was wearing a captain's hat, a loose Hawaiian s.h.i.+rt, and black swimming trunks. He looked silly and yet still devastatingly handsome. His Hawaiian s.h.i.+rt was unb.u.t.toned and his tan chest was on full display. Clearly, opening and running multiple restaurants still allowed plenty of time for the gym.

"Finally a girl who knows how to dress for a day on the water!" Dean said, reaching for my hand and forcing me to spin around in a circle. I played along and laughed. Normally I would have s.h.i.+ed away from a display like that, but I wanted to tease Julian any chance I could get.

"Easy," Julian warned from behind me, his tone suddenly harsher than it'd been a second before.

I frowned and turned back, ready to argue, but Julian was staring out over the side of the boat as if he hadn't just acted like a jealous boyfriend. Dean dropped my hand and took a step back.

"Well then," Dean said, holding out his arm to usher us farther onto his boat. "Let the festivities begin."

Chapter Seventeen.

Josephine Dean's choice of booze? Epic. Dean's choice of party music? Awesome. Dean's choice of female friends? Lackl.u.s.ter.

The girls...o...b..ard the yacht were just as snooty and stuck-up as I'd feared they would be. The fact that my bikini came from Target would have probably sent them all into conniption fits. They were each decked out in name brands that even the most fas.h.i.+onably inept person would recognize: Berkin bags (because, duh, that's a good choice for sailing), Michael Kors wedges, Chloe sungla.s.ses, Chanel scarves, and dresses that cost four times my rent. Y'know, just casual outfits for the high seas...

They weren't all bad, though. There was a tall, gorgeous black girl named Nadine. She and her friend, Kelly, both worked for a PR firm in the city. I got a good vibe from the two of them. I'll be honest though, it's mostly because they complimented my cover-up. Then there was Kensington Beatrice Waldorf III. (How's that for a name?) When I joked with her about a nickname, she reluctantly offered up Kenzie. She was an accessories editor at Wardrobe Magazine and actively sneered when I mentioned I was from Texas.

"So you rode horses to school and all that?" she asked with a look of horror.

For two seconds, I couldn't tell if she was being serious.

"Longhorns, actually," Julian offered from where he stood a few feet away. He and Dean were busy popping the lids off beers so they could pa.s.s them out around the group.

Nadine and Kelly cracked up, but Kenzie shrugged and stared down at her phone, clearly bored.

Alrighty then...

After I had a cold beer in hand, I took a moment to explore the deck. I'd been on plenty of boats in my life, but none of them compared to the behemoth Dean owned. I had to squint to make out the top of the main sail; it was that tall. The deck was covered in polished teak and lined with clean, white cus.h.i.+ons for lounging.

At the front of the yacht was a u-shaped seating area surrounding a built-in cooler, currently overflowing with wine and beer. A shallow walkway led around the u-shaped couch so that people could sunbathe near the bow of the boat. Something told me these New York girls weren't about to ruin their flawless skin with a day in the sun and I'd likely have the entire lounge area to myself later.

"Josephine!" Dean called from the back of the boat where he was gathered with Julian and a few new people. I guessed they must have boarded when I was checking out the sunbathing spot.

"What's up?" I asked as I ventured back toward them.

"Julian told me you've been craving a margarita."

I felt my cheeks redden as my gaze slid to Julian. I had enough southern etiquette engrained in me to know that it was rude to start making drink demands at a party.

"No, no. I already have a beer and it's more than perfect," I a.s.sured him, even holding up the bottle to prove it.

Dean smiled. "Too late. George already turned on the margarita machine downstairs and now I'm craving one too." He waggled his brows playfully. "Besides, I'm all about satisfying needs."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Dean was already talking to another guest and I didn't want to be even more rude. Julian came to stand beside me and took the beer out of my hand. I glared over at him.

"You weren't supposed to say anything," I hissed under my breath.

"You deserve a margarita," Julian said with a shrug.

"I just don't want to be rude," I said, watching him bring my beer to his lips and swallow back nearly half of it. I guess he a.s.sumed I didn't need it anymore since I was about to get a much-deserved margarita.

"You couldn't be rude if you tried," he argued with a knowing smile. "Now what should we do? We have another fifteen minutes until we set sail."

I scanned the boat. The girls were standing in a group near the bow, rifling through the wine options. Near the back, new guests were piling in, greeting Dean like an old friend. There were already ten or fifteen people on the boat and I only knew two of them. I felt like a fish out of water.

"Do you know many of these people?" I asked.

Julian scanned the crowd. "I recognize a few faces, but I've been out of New York too long."

"Looks like it's you and me then," I said, catching his eye.

He smiled and I took a moment to study him there. He'd put on a ball cap once we'd stepped onto the boat. The shadow beneath the brim did its best to hide his hazel eyes, but they persisted, as bright and alluring as ever.

"Want me to take a few photos for your blog? Are you going to do a post about this?"