Books A Million Mt Juliet Novels & Stories

Juliet got up from my lap and ran to the closet. “Ju…” I called, but got no response. I followed her. “He… he… thought of this. He always thought of this,” she said while putting on her pants. “He… he always said that if I… if I…” Juliet spoke in fragments. I tried to approach, but she pushed me away. “My kids—I need my kids and my car.” “Juliet.” I called again. “Noah, please, ask Chris to bring my kids.” “Juliet, let’s talk.”

She thought with a chuckle. Juliet picked up a novel to while away the last two hours of the flight, but after trying for at least ten minutes to lose herself in a good book she gave up, and decided to sit and check out the opulence of her surroundings. Who would have thought it, that one day Juliet Greenfield would be flying first class?

“You’re very wise for someone who just told me she once dated a guy who thought astrology was a personality test.” She grinned. “Hey, I contain multitudes.” We finished our tea and walked back toward the laundromat, where our clothes were probably still damp and slightly resentful. Juliette nudged me. “If he doesn’t text you by tomorrow, I’m setting you up with my cousin.” “Is he normal?” “He owns a bookstore and cries during Pixar movies.” I laughed. “Tempting.” “Just say the word.” As we parted ways, I felt lighter. Not because anything had changed. But because for a moment, I wasn’t the girl lying to a mafia heir or dodging her own past.

Every time she remembered Adrian’s voice, fresh heat pooled between her thighs. Mia appeared suddenly from between two shelves, holding her phone. Her face looked serious. “Jules,” Mia said, sitting down across from her. “We need to talk. Right now.” Juliet straightened up. “Mia, I really can’t do this today. I’m exhausted.” Mia placed her phone on the table and slid it toward Juliet. On the screen was a paused video of Luna on stage. The silver corset caught the pink lights perfectly. The same one Mia had seen in Juliet’s bag.

“Enough about him. Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about… you.” A sharp pain of nausea struck her in the stomach, but Juliet forced herself to bat her eyelashes again and ask, “What would you like to know?” “Everything,” he replied, scooting around the bench so that he could wrap his arm around her. Juliet kept her distance. She wasn’t an easy girl, but she had to flirt with him some. Still smiling, she took a deep breath and began filling him in on the made up story of Juliet Montague, counting the minutes until her phone would ring and she could claim she had someplace she had to be. The next fourteen minutes couldn’t pass quickly enough.

A quiet tremor filled the space. Juliet’s eyes lowered. She knew how that sounded. Monet steadied herself against the counter, her chest tightening. “Okay,” she whispered. “If that’s what she needs and if you can part with them.” Richard flinched. Just a flicker. Juliet cleared her throat and gestured toward the door. “I’ll load these.” She left them in the foyer. Just the two of them. Just the boxes. Just the memory of a woman neither of them could compete with or live without.

Tomorrow she would move into his mansion and start playing the role of his wife. Tomorrow, everything would change. She must have finally fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, her alarm was blaring. Six in the morning. Four hours until the car arrived. Juliet showered and dressed in one of her own outfits, knowing she'd change into the wedding dress later. She packed a small bag with essentials, things she couldn't leave behind. Photos of her mother and Nkechi. A bracelet her mother had given her when she turned eighteen. A few books.

What’s the real reason she doesn’t want me to meet him? We settle on the brown plush couch in the center of the living room. This is a pretty sizeable apartment, and the restaurant’s right by some office buildings… they’re making bank. This place is no shoe box, which my parents assured me we’d be living in if we’d moved into New York City. “But it’s the city,” I would exclaim, waving up jazz hands at “the city.” The suburbs are so boring in comparison. “Tapatio or Pisqueya?” Claire holds up two bottles of hot sauce.

Juliet reached across the table and laid her hand over Lisa’s. “Breathe Lisa,” she said, and Lisa dragged in a large breath, closing her eyes for a moment to find some secure footing. Juliet began talking again and it helped Lisa to find her centre. “The guys love the direction of the new series and want a five-book commitment, not including this one. So six books in all with the option to add to the series.” “It’s good then?” Lisa asked, still reeling from the words Juliet was saying and the amount of zeros on the cheque that she clutched in her hand.

"I didn't even know you were back." It was Juliet who said that, Juliet was the house help, she just turned 19 recently and gave herself the big chop. Which she rocked like any popular Instagram model claiming brand influencer. She was skinny with a double d chest and a bit off a backside. She had one jeans and a white singlet. Juliet had been working for them for about a year now, she and Janet had become quite close because she was really a character. A funny one at that, with the year she had spent with them, Janet had come to know that she had been with more than four boys, her latest one was as good as a sugar daddy. He was 30.