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Julian
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2025-07-14 22:55:29Chapter Six — Julian
Julian knew he should stand up. He should thank Jamie for the walkthrough, walk him to the door, and end the night like a professional. But he didn’t move. Jamie sat across from him, laptop now closed, shoulders tight, eyes flicking between Julian’s and the desk like he was trying to decide whether to run or stay. The air between them had thickened. Too quiet. Too full. Julian’s hands curled slowly into fists in his lap, just to keep them still. “You said it wouldn’t happen again,” Jamie said. His voice was soft. Not accusing. Just… reminding. Julian met his eyes. “I meant it.” Jamie’s lips parted, like he wanted to say something else—but he didn’t. Julian stood then. Slowly. Deliberately. He rounded the desk. Jamie’s breath caught as Julian stopped beside his chair. Too close. Close enough to see the rapid rise and fall of Jamie’s chest. The flicker in his eyes. The pulse ticking just under his skin. Julian shouldn’t. He knew he shouldn’t. But his hand moved anyway. Lightly—barely there—he reached down and brushed his fingers along the side of Jamie’s throat. Just once. A whisper of contact. Skin against skin. Too brief to be anything. Too charged to be nothing. Jamie didn’t flinch. He moved into it. That was the problem. He tilted his head into Julian’s hand, just slightly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he’d missed it. Julian’s mouth went dry. He could feel every breath in his body. Could hear the soft hum of the overhead lights. Could count each heartbeat like a gunshot in his throat. “Julian…” Jamie’s voice was a breath. And God help him, Julian leaned down. Their faces were inches apart now. Jamie looked up at him with eyes that held too much—want, caution, something else underneath that made Julian’s chest ache. It would be so easy to kiss him. So fucking easy. One inch closer and his mouth would be on Jamie’s again, and he wouldn’t stop this time. He couldn’t. But he didn’t move. He just stood there. Watching Jamie. Waiting. Needing. And then Jamie whispered, “You’re going to hate yourself in the morning.” Julian closed his eyes. His hand dropped. He stepped back. The space between them filled with all the things he didn’t say. “You’re right,” he said quietly. Jamie stood slowly, grabbing his laptop. “So am I going, or are you going to kiss me and deal with it later?” Julian looked at him. Really looked. And for one second—just one second—he almost said fuck it. Almost. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped aside. Cleared his throat. Reached for the doorknob. Jamie didn’t speak again. He just walked out, leaving behind a silence that felt like the aftermath of something that never got to happen. Julian stood there for a long time, alone in his office, trying to pretend he hadn’t just let something he wanted more than anything walk out the door.
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Inappropriate Conduct Jamie
Chapter 37: At the TablePOV: JamieThe smell of garlic and adobo filled his mother’s kitchen, familiar and grounding. Jamie had been craving home all week, craving something solid to stand on when the rest of his life felt like quicksand.But as he set the table with his little sister, Mari, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d walked into an ambush.Because Levi was here.Levi, in his pressed shirt and lawyer’s scowl, leaning against the counter like he was cross-examining the roast chicken.And he hadn’t said more than three words to Jamie since he walked in.“Sit, sit,” their mom urged, fussing over the serving bowls. “Eat before it gets cold.”Jamie slid into his chair, Mari plopping down beside him, already reaching for the rice.Levi took the seat across, dark eyes fixed on his plate.The scrape of utensils and the low hum of the radio filled the silence.Jamie shoveled food onto his plate, pretending not to notice Levi’s silence, his mom’s worried glances, Mari’s smirk.“So
Inappropriate Conduct Julian
Chapter 36: Ghosts of Scandal POV: Julian Julian didn’t go home that night. He sat in his office long after the cleaners had left, long after the building emptied, staring at the city lights through glass that suddenly felt too thin. Jamie’s campaign had been brilliant. Everyone was talking about it. Proud whispers. Admiration. Respect. And Julian hadn’t been there to see it. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he couldn’t risk tainting it. Couldn’t let anyone think Jamie’s success was his hand guiding the wheel. He told himself it was the right choice. Professional. Necessary. So why did it feel like punishment? He poured himself a drink from the decanter he kept for late nights. The whiskey burned down his throat, but the ghosts it conjured burned hotter. Because this wasn’t the first time he’d sat alone like this, staring at a skyline and wondering if everything he’d built was about to collapse. The last time had been years ago. A different city. A different com
Inappropriate Conduct Jamie
Chapter 35: On His Own POV: Jamie Jamie had spent the morning pretending not to notice the stares. The whispers were still there—sliding around him like smoke—but today, there was something sharper waiting for him at his desk. A manila folder with his name on it. He froze. Avery leaned over the partition. “That’s either your termination papers or your big break.” Jamie shot her a look. She just grinned. He opened the folder. Inside: a campaign brief. His campaign brief. Franklin Foods wanted a new line of ads aimed at college students—cheap meals, quick fixes, late-night comfort. It was exactly the demographic Jamie had lived through only a few years ago. And now the assignment was his. Not Julian’s. Not a hand-me-down. His. Jamie’s pulse spiked as he skimmed the notes. Timeline: two weeks. Deliverables: concept deck, taglines, mockups. Evaluation: board review. His mouth went dry. Avery whistled. “Well, damn. They’re throwing you into the fire.” Jamie shut the folder
Inappropriate Conduct Julian
Chapter 34: Sabotage POV: Julian Julian Black wasn’t used to losing. He wasn’t used to waiting either. Promotions came to him like clockwork—earned through late nights, impossible pitches, and a reputation so polished people mistook it for perfection. But this week, the silence had stretched too long. The board had promised an announcement about the open Senior Creative Partner seat. Julian had been the obvious choice. Everyone knew it. So when the email finally came, his chest tightened—not with nerves, but certainty. Until he opened it. The board has decided to delay the promotion decision pending review of recent internal concerns. Pending review. The words hit like a fist to the gut. Julian sat frozen at his desk, the glow of the screen painting him in blue. His pulse pounded in his ears. This wasn’t about performance. His numbers were untouchable. His campaigns had carried half their revenue this quarter. No. This was about Jamie. His jaw clenched so hard it ached.
Inappropriate Conduct Jamie
Chapter 33: Almost Goodbye POV: Jamie The office was empty by the time Jamie shut down his computer. Darkness pressed against the windows, the city glittering beyond like it was mocking him—bright, untouchable, alive. He rubbed his eyes, exhaustion dragging at every muscle, but he couldn’t make himself leave. Because leaving meant silence. And silence meant facing everything alone. He found himself walking to Julian’s office without even deciding to. His feet just…took him there. The door was cracked open, a faint glow spilling out. Julian sat at his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled, tie discarded on the armrest. He looked tired, shadows carved deep under his eyes, but when he saw Jamie, something in his face softened. “You should be home,” Julian said quietly. Jamie leaned against the doorway. “So should you.” They stared at each other for a long moment, neither moving. Finally, Jamie stepped inside and shut the door. Silence filled the space between them. Heavy. Charged
Inappropriate Conduct Julian
Chapter 32: Appearances POV: Julian Julian Black had never been told to “tone it down” in his entire career. He’d been told he was too aggressive, too ambitious, too relentless—but those were compliments disguised as criticism. He wore them like armor, because they meant he was winning. But now? Now the same board that had once begged him to save their sinking campaigns was telling him to control appearances. Like his love for Jamie was a stain that needed bleaching out. The message came in a “casual” sit-down with two senior partners and HR. They didn’t meet in the boardroom this time. Too formal, too visible. Instead, they booked a small corner office, blinds half-shut, voices pitched low as if his life were a secret to be managed. “Julian,” one of the partners began carefully, “you’ve been invaluable to this company. No one doubts your talent, your leadership, or your record. But—” “There’s always a but,” Julian said flatly. The man winced. “Optics are critical right now
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