Letters to Julian (A Cupid Inc Novella) (6 page)

“
You look like shit.” Bridget snickered openly when he stumbled into the shop the next morning, still wearing the previous day’s clothes. “When you screw up, you really screw up.”

“Shut it.” Ridley didn’t need the pint-sized shifter telling him what a total ass he’d been.

“You miss him,” she prodded. “Just admit it.”

He did.
He missed talking to the elf about nothing and everything and all the nonsense in between. He missed Julian’s smile, his always optimistic outlook on life, and even the way he teased Ridley about his less-than-amiable social skills.

Funny thing, time.
They’d carried on the same routine for months, but now that things were strained between them, the few days since he’d seen Julian felt like much longer. “Maybe.”

“What is it with you?” Kneeling in front of the New Releases shelf, Bridget stacked the last of the morning shipment while she continued to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. “You obviously have feelings for him, and I mean more than let’s-get-naked feelings. You always take the time to write your little letters to Julian and slip them inside his books—which you also go through a lot of trouble to get for him. Why is it so hard to admit that just maybe you kind of like the guy?”

Thankfully, the bell over the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a new customer and interrupting any vague, evasive answer he might have given. With a smile he didn’t feel, he started forward to greet the newcomer, but stopped in his tracks when Julian strolled into the shop.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?”
Ridley demanded.

“I…uh…” Turning, Julian looked at the front door, back to Ridley, and finally
down at his watch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know we had an appointment.”

“Never mind,” Ridley growled. “Go order your tea.”

Julian opened his mouth as though to argue, stopped, pressed his lips together, and snorted. “Actually, I can’t stay. I just dropped by to see if that boxed set I’d ordered had come in.”

“Not today.” Ridley didn’t special order items for just anyone. In fact, he didn’t do it for anyone
except
Julian. “It should be in the post on Monday.”

“Okay. Well, I’ll swing by
next week then.” Staring down at the floor, Julian shuffled his feet, clearly struggling for something else to say. “I guess I should go.”

“Wait.”

Julian looked up at him expectantly, but Ridley couldn’t think of a single excuse to keep the man from leaving. An apology played on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back. His erratic behavior during the past week had succeeded in giving
him
whiplash, and he could only imagine how Julian felt.

“Have lunch with me,” he blurted. “I’ve not been a very good friend to you lately, but I’
d like a chance to explain.”

He swung his foot out to the side, kicking Bridget in the leg when she
scoffed under her breath. Sharing feelings and talking about emotions made his skin crawl just thinking about it, and he didn’t need her particular brand of judgment at the moment. In the past week, however, he’d repeatedly proven that he couldn’t be
just
friends with Julian, and the time had come to either put up or shut up.

“I’d like that.” Though he sounded sincere, the smile that stretched
Julian’s lips appeared sad. “I wasn’t trying to blow you off, though. I really can’t stay. I’m meeting someone in a couple of hours.”

“A cl
ient?” Ridley felt dense, like some concept he should be able to grasp hovered just beyond reach. “You’re working on Valentine’s Day?”

Julian fidgeted, stuffing his hands in his pocket and then taking them out again. “Well, not exactly, no.”

“All right, then.” Yes, he had definitely missed something. “What about your play tonight? I clean up nicely, if I do say so myself.”

“Oh.” Julian’s eyes lit up for
the barest of moments before the usual sparkle dimmed once again. “I’d really like that, Ridley, but I kind of made other plans when you said you didn’t—uh, couldn’t go.”

“A date?” It took everything in him not to growl the words.
Really, he had no right to his anger, his jealousy, or his sense of possessiveness. Knowing it didn’t stop those emotions from consuming him, though. “No, I understand.” He tried to smile, but when it felt more like a grimace, so he gave up the pretense and simply nodded. “Have fun.”

Julian angled toward the door, and Ridley busied himself with restacking books so he wouldn’t have to watch him leave.

“Hey, Ridley?”

With his back turned, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly.
“Yes, love?”

“
I’m probably going to make pancakes for breakfast in the morning and spend the day watching chick flicks. If you don’t have any plans, maybe you’d like to swing by and join me.”

As a man with a healthy level of testosterone, Ridley would never admit to enjoying any kind of movie where someone didn’t get naked or blow up a car. He’d made a lot of mistakes where Julian was concerned,
and he knew he didn’t deserve the second chance he’d just been offered. Only an idiot would pass on such an opportunity, though.

Abandoning his made-up task, he faced
Julian with a genuine smile this time. “Spend the whole day with you?”

“Well, I mean, you can leave whenever want. I promise not to lock you in the dungeon or anything. I was just thinking that we could
, I mean, if you wanted—”

“I’d like that,” Ridley interrupted
Julian’s babbling as his smile brightened several notches.

Exhaling with enough force to make his cheeks puff out, Julian pulled a crumpled receipt from his pocket and scribbled across the back of it with a pen he’d snatched from the counter. “Call me in the morning, and I’ll give you directions.”

He held out the wrinkled slip of paper, but Ridley’s eyes focused on something red and shiny near Julian’s foot. “I believe you dropped this.” Bending, he retrieved the folded piece of foil, and though he knew he shouldn’t, held it open to read the words printed across the front. “The Conservatory Garden? Who exactly are you meeting?”

“I don’t know yet.” Julian snatched the ticket from Ridley’s fingers and replaced it with the receipt containing his telephone number. “I’ll find out when I get there.” His cheeks flushed, and he refused to meet Ridley’s gaze. “I really should go. Call me tomorrow?”
Without waiting for a response, he shoved the date ticket into his pocket and practically ran out of the store.

“I’ll call,” Ridley promised
quietly as he watched the front door swing closed.

“You look like someone kicked your puppy.” Bridget popped up from the other side of the shelf with a beaming smile. “That sucks.”

“Answer me something, pet. Did some bloke make you this bloody evil, or were you merely born this way?”

Bridget shrugged. “I’m pretty sure it’s hereditary.”

“Brilliant.” An idea began to take root, something he couldn’t possibly act on, not if he wanted to maintain any kind of dignity.
No, definitely not
. Julian would never forgive him.
Fuck it.
“Right, you’re in charge. I have somewhere to be.”

* * * *

Sirens blared, horns honked, and loud music blasted from the jazz club down the block. Sitting on the balcony of his one bedroom, overpriced condo on the Upper East Side, Julian swirled the wine around in his glass as he stared out into the city.

Below him, people scurried about like robotic chipmunks, chattering away on their cell phone while they hurried to work, home, or maybe just to meet a friend for drinks. Everyone was always in such a hurry, which made it easy to spot the tourists. The cameras around their necks, and the maps clutched in their hands would be a dead giveaway, but Julian could always pick out a non-New Yorker, simply by watching them walk.

He’d traveled the world and seen some amazing sights, but he always came back to New York. For as long as he could remember, he’d been in love with the city and reveled in its energy. “The city that never sleeps,” he mused with a sardonic grin.

The clubs, the art, the culture, the history—he
loved it all, and yet, lately, none of it made him happy. The constant noise grated on his nerves. The endless need to have more, to be more, it exhausted him. He’d chosen a place near Central Park to give him an outlet when he needed to unwind and recharge. He never seemed to find the time to visit the park, though, and for that, his magic suffered.

Not that he could do anything so spectacular—make flowers bloom, change their color,
manipulate water, or create a warm breeze—but he missed the serenity his magic gave him. His mother had once told him woodland elves weren’t meant to live in sprawling, urban jungles for long periods of time, but of course, he’d ignored her. Every decade or so, however, the itch began, the overwhelming need to be free of the nearly manic city and its inhabitants. This time, it had just happened to come sooner than he’d expected.

The wall clock in the living room chimed the hour, pulling him from his depressing, thoughts. Tipping the glass to his lips, Julian finished of
f his wine and shuffled inside to prepare for his date. When he’d awoken that morning, he’d been nervous but also excited. It had been ages since he’d been to the gardens, and even longer since he’d been on a real date. Now, he felt nothing but a mild sense of curiosity, and he doubted that would be enough to carry him through the evening.

He’d known his
new books wouldn’t arrive until after the weekend, but it had been excuse to drop by The Book Attic to see Ridley. “You’re a glutton for punishment, Julian. Truly an idiot.”

When he’d walked into the bookshop, he’d had no intentions of asking the guy over for br
eakfast. When Ridley began barking at him, demanding to know where he’d been, Julian hadn’t been upset. In fact, he’d had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. The poor guy had it bad, and he didn’t even realize it. Until Ridley decided what he wanted, though, and stood by that decision, Julian had sworn to himself he’d keep their relationship strictly platonic.

Gods, he was weak where Ridley was concerned, though. When he’d looked at Julian with that lost, broken expression, it had nearly undone him. Every promise he’d made himself and all the reasons he knew he should stay away flew out the proverbial window as though they’d never existed.

Julian was tired of the games, though. He wanted someone who wouldn’t run every time things got hard or a little too intense, a man who knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.
Someone the complete opposite of Ridley Dragos.

Now, if he could just convince his heart of that
, he’d be in business. “Ridley, you idiot, you will be the end of me.”

Chapter Five

With his ticket in hand, Julian stopped at the entrance to the Conservatory Garden and looked up and down Fifth Avenue. Couples strolled together down the sidewalk, but no one paid him any attention or appeared to be looking for someone. Maybe the guy wouldn’t show. Somehow, Julian couldn’t bring himself to feel too disappointed about the possibility.

The chilly afternoon had given way to an even colder evening
, and the temperatures would only drop further come nightfall. Julian had dressed for the occasion in his wool pea coat and thick scarf, but his cheeks, ears, and nose stung from the winds that picked up and whipped through the park. He really hoped his date didn’t plan to stay for long.

The gardens weren’t nearly as colorful or full of life in the winter, but it still held a kind of quiet, haunting beauty. Tucking his shiny red ticke
t into the breast pocket of his coat, Julian entered the park, scanning for anyone who looked as out of place as he felt. As he made his way to the fountain at the western end of the Center Garden, he stopped at a barren flower bed and knelt beside it.

At o
ne time, he’d have been able to bring the entire garden to life, but he’d neglected his magic for too long. Now, the best he could accomplish was a single burgundy rose. Instead of lamenting in his sad performance, however, Julian plucked the rose from the soil and spun it in his fingers, smiling as he pushed to his feet.

“Not bad,” a man commented as he approached from the direction of the fountain.

Before Julian could work himself into a panic, the guy produced a red, foil ticket and held it up between thumb and forefinger. Sighing in relief, Julian pulled his own, identical ticket from his pocket and passed the flower to his date. “Well, I couldn’t show up empty handed, could I?”

“Can I ask what kind of elf you are?”

Julian had to work to keep his expression passive. “Let’s start with names.”

The stranger
stared at the rose for a moment, and then dropped it back into the flower bed before offering his hand. “Harris Hastings.”

Rude much?
Still, Julian stretched his lips in the semblance of a smile and shook the proffered hand. “Julian Haell.”

“I’ve never been with an elf before.” His tone implied he didn’t mean “been with” in the casual sense, either. “Are you going to tell me what kind of elf you are?”