Hold On (3 page)

“And Lexie, I know you’re working with Serena, but try and steer as clear of her as
you can. She can be vicious.”

“Julian, I’m no shrinking violet. I can hold my own, trust me. I just need to know
what I’m dealing with. And you can tell me later. I need to get back to work. I’m
not the boss.”

“You definitely are not a shrinking violet, baby. I’ve seen that with my own eyes.
My money is on you. I just don’t want you to be unhappy because of me.”

I’m still smiling. “You make me happy. Now go cook me dinner. See you at six.”

I hang up the phone and throw my lunch trash away. As I walk back to the trailer,
I wonder what else Serena has planned for me. I put on a brave front for Julian and
while it’s true, I can hold my own, I’m unnerved by the information I learned today.
I’ll feel better when I hear it all from Julian. At least I hope I will.

Luckily for me, Serena isn’t in the office when I get back. Evelyn tells me she left
to go pick up some sales material from another one of our properties and won’t be
back in until tomorrow. Oh darn.

I miss Lauren. I can’t wait until she gets here. I text her to tell her so.

Alexa:
Miss you already
Lauren:
That’s so sweet. Why?
Alexa:
Call you later. Let’s just say the other salesperson is not so fond of me already
Lauren:
WTH. How?
Alexa:
Another Julian connection
Lauren:
Ex?
Alexa:
No. complicated story. Can’t talk bc people around. Call you later
Lauren:
Geez. You’ve been there like 5 minutes. I’ve got your back
Alexa:
I know. ttyl

Chapter Three

I spend the rest of the afternoon setting up my office and familiarizing myself with
all things Promenade and before I know it, it’s six. I pack up my stuff, say goodbye
to everyone, and head out. Julian is parked where he dropped me off and is on the
phone. I slide into the front seat and squeeze his free hand. He flashes me a smile.
He’s casually dressed in white cargo shorts, a black t-shirt, and flip-flops so I
assume he’s been home already. He’s speaking in Spanish and it doesn’t sound like
a business conversation. I hear the words wedding and date and cousin and figure he
must be talking to a family member. He tells whoever is on the other end of the phone
he loves them and gets off. He leans over and kisses me sweetly on the lips. He clarifies
who he just said “I love you” to before I have a chance to even think of asking.

“My mom. She was calling to ask me if you were coming with me to my cousin Yvette’s
wedding.”

He says it like we’ve talked about it before and he’s waiting for my answer. I shake
my head at him. “You do know you’ve never mentioned any of this to me before, right?”

He laughs and sounds apologetic. “Yes, I know that. Yvette is Rafi’s sister. He told
my Tia Elena, who is my dad’s sister-in-law, about you and she called my mom and asked.”
He pulls out onto the street and drives the few blocks to his condo.

I’m still not sure how comfortable I am with the whole family thing so I change the
subject. “This is silly for you to pick me up. I can walk a few blocks.”

“First, those shoes, while sexy as hell, are not really made for walking and second,
why the change of subject?” He pulls into his spot and turns to look at me again.

“First, I have no problem walking in my shoes, thank you very much. I was a little
drunk the night I fell on you. And second, you didn’t actually invite me to this wedding
so I’m not sure how you would like me to respond.”

We get out of the Jag and meet at the trunk. I pause and wait for him to open it so
I can get my stuff out. He reads my mind. “I already brought it all in.”

“My valet too? Chauffer, valet, butler, cook. You’re going to spoil me.”

He turns and looks at me as we wait for the elevator. “I like doing things for you.
It feels good. But you forgot sex slave on the list.”

I can’t help but laugh as we walk into the elevator. “Oh, I didn’t forget that. I
just didn’t want you to think I was only using you for your body. I wanted to point
out some of your other attributes.”

“You do know that you can try and change the subject a million times and I don’t fall
for it, right? You never answered about the wedding.” The elevator stops and we get
out and walk the few steps to Julian’s front door. When he opens it, we’re met with
the delectable smell of whatever Julian is cooking. I change the subject again, testing
his theory that he can keep up. “Mmm. It smells so good in here. What are you making?”

“Chicken Parmesan.”

I follow him into the kitchen. I see he has already set the island and has everything
ready to go. I walk over and wrap my arms around him. “This is so sweet. Thank you.”

He smiles and kisses me on the forehead. “Do you want to change before dinner? All
your stuff is in my closet.” In his closet? My stuff usually lives on the floor in
my bag. He’s really pushing this “making myself at home” thing. I shake off the uncomfortable
feelings I’m having. “Yes. How long until dinner is ready?” I’m debating whether I
want to take a shower now. It was really humid today and I spent more time than usual
walking around the jobsite. I feel a little sticky.

“Fifteen minutes. No time to take a shower. Well, time, but I’d rather you do that
with me later. Just go get comfortable.”

“Julian, it kind of freaks me out; you seem to be able to read my mind. I was thinking
about taking a shower. But your offer sounds better so I’ll wait.”

“Good. I just need to heat up the bread and toss the salad. Do you want white or red
wine?”

“Red,” I call as I walk down the hall to his room. When I enter the closet I immediately
see he’s hung up the dress I brought for tomorrow in a corner of his closet he’s cleared
for me. My shoes are lined up underneath and my other clothes are folded on the shelves
beneath. I sit down on a nearby armchair and take a deep breath. We’re less than a
week past me trying to end this relationship and Julian is moving full-steam ahead.
I try to tell myself I’m overreacting and that he’s just trying to save me the hassle
of needing to iron in the morning, but when I see my jewelry placed neatly in a mahogany
box on top of a dresser that’s also in the closet, I know this all means more. Julian
is ready for this to be real. Like really real.

I put on a pair of black cotton drawstring shorts and a matching black and white,
baseball-style shirt with a white, lace front and black, three-quarter-length sleeves.
The lace pattern is thick but you can still see my black bra underneath. I walk into
the bathroom and see Julian has set my hair stuff up next to one of the sinks. I open
the drawer below and see my makeup. I peek in the shower and see my shampoo and body
wash. He really has unpacked all my stuff.

I know he’s trying to be sweet so I try not to freak out. My “baby steps” plan is
out the window here. I head back to the kitchen and try to hide that he freaked me
out a little bit. I sit down at the island and take a sip of the wine he’s poured
for me.

“If you’re willing to share your closet with me, I may store some shoes here. I’m
at the point where I may have to stop buying shoes because I have no more room.”

Julian’s back is to me and he looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Mi closet is su
closet, Lexie.”

“That’s sweet, Julian. But seriously, you didn’t need to unpack everything. I’m only
here for two nights.”

He turns and brings a plate of food to the island and sets it in front of me. It smells
and looks so good. “Stop freaking out. I’m not asking you to move in.” He pauses.
“Yet. But you really should just leave some stuff here so you don’t have to keep bringing
it back and forth.”

Move in? We’ve been together for about seven weeks and he mentions moving in. It’s
crazy, right?

“I’m only freaking out a little. But thanks for noticing as usual. It’s very sweet
of you to make me so comfortable here but it just seems so fast. It’s been less than
two months and I’ve tried to break-up with you twice. I’m not sure I should have a
drawer yet.”

Julian snickers at the last part. “You have tried to break-up with me twice haven’t
you? Well, don’t do that anymore and we should be good.”

He’s sitting next to me now with his own plate of food in front of him. He lifts his
glass of wine and I do the same. “To moving forward.”

“To moving forward.” I take another sip and put my glass down. “I was being serious.
You don’t think it’s too soon for me to have a side of the closet.”

Julian finishes chewing the bite in his mouth. “A side? Who said anything about a
side?” Now he’s joking and it makes me smile and relax a bit.

“Lexie, is there any way you can just stop thinking about everything. Sometimes things
are the way they are. You’ve known this was serious from day one, so stop fighting
it. Please.”

He actually sounds annoyed with me. I’m a thinker. I do analyze everything. It’s who
I am.

Julian sees I’m thinking about what he just said and continues, “My parents, who’ve
been married thirty-five years, got engaged after six weeks and married within a year.
My aunt and uncle, who’ve been married thirty years, got engaged and married within
five months. I didn’t propose to you, I just hung up your clothes and put your shampoo
in the shower. It’s not that big a deal.”

I turn and face him. “It’s a big deal to me. Sorry but it is. I’m not good at all
of this. I’m super independent; I’m used to taking care of myself and I have a hard
time believing in the good stuff. I’m trying really hard not to screw this up but
you’re going to need to continue to be patient with me.”

Julian turns in his chair so he’s facing me. He takes my hand in his. “You just described
me. We’re more alike than you even know. The only difference is I’m not fighting this.
I’m embracing it.”

He lets go of my hand and turns around. We drop the heavy stuff for the rest of the
meal and talk a little about work and the food he cooked. After we eat, I help him
clean up. I refill our wine glasses and head to the living room. We’re going to talk
tonight. I sit on the couch and Julian sits beside me.

“Okay. Let’s do this. You’re going to share Julian one-o-one with me and I’m not going
to freak out. Or, I’m going to try and not freak out.”

Julian smiles. “Julian one-o-one, huh. Just the basics?”

I stop smiling so he knows I’m serious. “I want to know you, Julian, like you know
me.”

He takes a sip of his wine and starts talking, “You know a lot already. You know about
my sister and Danny and my mom, Marisol. My dad’s name is Antonio. I was born in Miami
but lived in Argentina until I was seven. My dad’s whole family was there. My parents
met here, got married, and moved to Buenos Aires. Business brought them back here
and I’ve lived in Miami ever since. My parents live on North Bay Road and that’s the
same house we always lived in. I went to Gulliver Prep and then to UM. My life was
pretty normal, I guess. I grew up with money. We travelled a lot. I played baseball.
Things were good until Isabelle got sick for the first time. She was eleven and I
was sixteen. Danny was almost thirteen.”

I can see him processing the memories in his head. He stands up and walks over to
a cabinet in the corner. He comes back with a photo album. Okay, we really are doing
this. He flips it open and there in the middle of the page is an 8x10 picture of Julian,
Danny, and I’m assuming Isabelle. Julian looks around sixteen years old. He was as
good-looking then and Isabelle was beautiful.

“She was beautiful. She looked like you. Actually, you all look alike.”

Julian flips the page and I see a family picture. Talk about an attractive family.
I know the picture is from fifteen years ago but it’s not hard to see where the good
looks come from. Julian’s mom is a pretty, petite woman with thick, long, brown hair
and a big, friendly smile. Julian’s smile comes from her. But the rest of him looks
like his dad. Antonio Bauer is a handsome man: tall, with the same green eyes and
strong features Julian and Danny have.

“You look like your dad. How old were you here?”

“I had just turned sixteen. This is the last time my family looked this happy. Isabelle
was diagnosed with Leukemia about three months later.”

I take the album from him and flip through some other pages. They’re filled with pictures
of his family and of him growing up. There are pictures of birthdays, vacations, sports,
and school.

“Why aren’t any of these out in your home? You don’t have any pictures out anywhere.”

“It’s still hard to look at these, even after all this time.”

“This album is filled with love, Julian. There’s so much good in here.”

He gets a very pensive look on his face and it appears he’s looking for the right
words. When he speaks I’m taken aback by the anger I hear underneath.

“And it all stopped when Isabelle got sick for the second time. It’s never been the
same and it’ll never be the same. And looking back reminds me of everything I lost.”

I sit patiently and wait for him to continue. Obviously there’s so much more. I take
his hand in mine and squeeze it. I want him to know he can open up to me.

“When Isabelle got sick the first time, my family got closer. It was us against the
cancer. My family are a bunch of problem-solvers and we just took care of business.
She went into remission for almost two years but when she was fourteen, the cancer
came back stronger. We all thought she’d be okay. We took the same approach we did
the first time. And, in the beginning we were still close. But, as the months went
by and she didn’t get better, things started to fall apart. No matter what they tried
or how much money we spent on specialists, she didn’t get better. My dad started to
drink, my mom sunk into a deep depression, and we all pretty much fell apart.”

Ah ha. That’s where the issues with the drinking come from. I squeeze his hand again
and encourage him to continue.

“I was in college when this all happened. I was getting ready to graduate and I was
being seriously scouted for the pros. Baseball was a big deal to me and playing professionally
was my dream.” He drifts off again for a few moments.

“Why did you stop?”

He looks up at me and I see the pain in his eyes. It breaks my heart because it’s
still so raw, even after all of this time.

“When Isabelle died, my dad became a full-fledged drunk. His drinking caused us to
almost lose everything. He fucked up at work and made some really bad business decisions.
He was the CEO of Bywater and ran everything in the States. He also had an affair
with someone who worked for him. My mom found out and they separated for a while.
She was so depressed she was having a hard time taking care of Danny.” Julian shakes
his head and shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t have a choice. I had to take care of
them. So I finished school, said goodbye to baseball, joined the business, and took
care of Danny. He was seventeen, still in high school, and needed me.”

Julian says it so matter-of-factly but his face is heavy with sadness. I’m trying
to take all of this in but I know he’s holding back. He isn’t telling me his personal
story. I’m guessing this may be where this Alejandra woman fits in. I do the math
quickly in my head and know this was around the time Julian says he was in his last
relationship. I’m not sure I want to hear this but I know I need to. “Who took care
of you, Julian? Who helped you deal with all of this?”

He takes his hand from mine and runs it through his hair. He leans into the couch
and lays his head back before he turns and looks at me. A deep breath comes out of
him. “Nobody, Lexie. Nobody took care of me.”