Chapter 21: You're the One in Charge Here

Shopping with Sophie in tow turned out to be exponentially harder than shopping alone.

By the end of it, Wendy had returned most of the haul, keeping only the glass rose for Sophie's sake.

She understood exactly what that one meant to her, even if Sophie never said it outright.

At the new apartment, Wendy directed the movers item by item, everything finding its place.

Sophie stood on the balcony, scanning the space left and right.

"What are you looking at?" Wendy asked.

"This balcony's just sitting empty," Sophie said, thoughtful. "Feels like a waste of good space."

It was a generous balcony plenty of room left even after accounting for drying laundry and bedding.

"We could do something with it," Wendy offered. "Turn it into its own little space."

Sophie's whole face lit up. "Yes! Okay!"

She pointed to a corner. "A hanging chair right there wouldn't that be so dreamy?"

"A hanging chair," Wendy repeated, picturing it immediately. "Sophie, that's actually brilliant. Perfect spot for catching sun."

The apartment got excellent light year-round it would be a shame not to take advantage of it.

"Let's go pick one out right now," Sophie said, already halfway to the door.

"Let's finish unpacking first," Wendy said, pulling her back.

Move fast enough today, and they could be sleeping here by tomorrow. The hanging chair could wait.

The movers worked efficiently, placing everything exactly where Wendy had planned. Once they cleared out, she grabbed a broom and started on the floors herself.

Sophie watched, baffled. "Why not just get a robot vacuum? Who cleans by hand anymore?"

The question was almost endearingly out of touch. "You can buy one," Wendy said patiently, "but not everyone can afford the luxury. Most people in the world still can't."

That landed differently than Sophie expected it dragged up memories of the Vance family's leaner years, back when Diane had worked two jobs and handled every chore herself.

Diane had never let the kids lift a finger back then, always pushing them toward their studies instead.

Sophie crossed over, newly motivated. "Let me help."

"That's okay," Wendy said, politely declining.

"You don't think I can handle it?" Sophie challenged.

Wendy laughed. "Something like that, yeah."

Offended, Sophie snatched the broom right out of her hands, determined to prove her wrong.

Wendy didn't argue just grabbed a rag and started wiping down surfaces instead.

Clumsy as Sophie was with it, she stuck with the job seriously, and between the two of them, the place came together.

On move-in day, with the last of the boxes stacked by the door, Sophie said, mournful, "Guess it's just me left at home now."

It took Wendy a solid while to talk her out of her mood before she finally headed back, shoulders slumped.

This marked only Julian's second visit the first had been the house-hunting trip. Freshly furnished and still unlived-in, the apartment already carried a hint of the life that would eventually fill it.

Something about the domestic feel of it prompted Julian to ask, once Wendy trailed in behind him, "How's the job search going?"

"Honestly? I don't know what's going on," Wendy admitted. "It's starting to feel off."

"Off how?"

She laughed, a little helpless. "It feels like someone's working against me behind the scenes. No studio, no company wants to touch me." She shook her head, brushing it off. "I'm probably just overthinking. I'm sure it's just that I'm not good enough to get noticed."

"It's not you," Julian said, with total certainty.

"Appreciate the pep talk," she said, assuming he was just being kind. She'd been out of the field long enough that a little professional cold shoulder made sense.

"I'm not saying it to make you feel better. Someone is actively working to keep you from getting hired."

Wendy went still, brow furrowing, a suspicion already forming.

There were only a couple of people with any motive to sabotage her.

Her first thought went straight to Nathan and Cassidy.

Nathan, more specifically. He'd never been able to stand watching her thrive.

When she'd still been trapped in the Hale household, he could barely stand the sight of her. The moment she left, he'd suddenly found endless excuses to stay in contact.

She knew exactly what that was about he wanted to watch her fail. Wanted proof she'd regret leaving him.

He was far too arrogant to accept that her feelings for him had simply run out. In his mind, that wasn't something that happened without a reason, without provocation.

The truth was simpler and far less flattering to him: there hadn't been some single breaking point. Just years of disappointment, stacking up quietly, until nothing was left.

The more distance she got from him, the clearer it became exactly how little he'd ever actually cared.

With Nathan actively working against her, landing any job felt about as realistic as walking a tightrope blindfolded.

She'd never doubted her read on who was responsible and even now, confirmation only hardened it. Nathan first. Cassidy, maybe, as an accessory.

"Want help with it?" Julian asked.

Wendy didn't bother with false modesty. She nodded, firm.

They shared an enemy now. Teaming up only made sense.

With the apartment finally in order, Julian offered, "I'll handle dinner."

"You cook?" Wendy asked, surprised.

He smiled. "That strange to you?"

"No, not strange," she said quickly. "Just rare. Men who actually step up in the kitchen, I mean."

"Plenty of professional chefs are men," she added, almost academically, "but very few men cook at home, by choice, for their own household."

Traditionally, domestic work had always defaulted to women and even now, with so many women holding full careers of their own, the housework still mostly landed on them anyway. Regardless of whose job was more demanding.

A man in Julian's position running a company, buried in responsibility actually knowing his way around a kitchen genuinely surprised her.

He didn't just talk about it. He got straight to work, moving through the kitchen with practiced ease.

Wendy watched, fascinated. She cooked plenty herself and recognized real skill when she saw it this wasn't something picked up casually.

She couldn't begin to guess where he'd learned it.

He put together three dishes and a soup simple, homestyle, but vibrant and fragrant, clearly made with real care.

Wendy just stared. Julian pulled out a chair for her. "Sit."

She did, a little overwhelmed by the gesture.

A man worth billions, cooking her dinner personally not something she'd ever imagined finding herself on the receiving end of.

He picked up a piece with his chopsticks and held it out to her. "Try this."

She snapped back to the moment and took a bite of the sweet-and-sour ribs.

The balance hit perfectly sweet, tart, impossible not to want another bite immediately.

"This is really good," she said, genuine.

"Glad you like it," he said quietly.

They ate in comfortable, satisfied silence for a while.

As the conversation drifted to the apartment's finishing touches, Wendy finally asked, "If there's anything you don't love about how it's set up, tell me I can change it."

"No," Julian said, content. "This is good."

He genuinely liked the layout.

Diane had always handled the family home before, and her style was unmistakably warm love radiating from every corner of it, impossible to miss.

Wendy's touch leaned cooler by comparison, a soft sage green running through most of the space.

To Julian, it read less like coldness and more like potential something still growing, a seedling just breaking through soil, full of quiet possibility.

Wendy glanced toward the balcony, weighing something, then decided to bring it up.

"Sophie wants a hanging chair out there."

"Did you agree to it?" Julian asked.

She nodded.

"Then get it," he said simply. "This is your house to run.”