Crossing the Threshold
1655 Words
Bella was in a daze for the next three days.
Not a dramatic, dreamy fog, more the kind in which you stumble into a room and can't remember why you're there, when you microwave leftover pasta and stand looking at it for five minutes before wondering, did I even pick up a fork?
Thoughts circled only by this gravity.
She was to move into Julian Devereux's penthouse.
Her father was ecstatic. Chloe was horrified. Bella was suspended in a place she could only later describe as a mix of terror and anticipation, so intense it made her chest hurt.
She attempted to take her mind off things by packing, but with every item she put into a box, the situation seemed more real. Her pyjama tops. Her sketchbooks. Her favourite mug. Every object was a reminder.
These are the kinds of things that will be in Julian's home.
Julian will see them.
Julian will see you.
She insulated the frame of a college shot, her and Chloe drank cheap tequila, each flipping off the camera with cocksure grins, and she flinched. She wasn't going to crack that in Julian's pristine penthouse. He'd most likely think she was a flaky goblin who couldn't adult.
Maybe she was.
There was a gentle tap on her door.
She unfolded it to see her father standing in the hall, a little of his tie loose, still smelling of sawdust and cold wind.
"Ready?" Robert asked gently.
Not even remotely.
But she nodded.
Her father helped her lug boxes to the basement. One of Julian's drivers sat at the wheel, a black SUV parked at the curb... an idea from Daniel, no doubt, judging by the barely suppressed mirth dancing in his eyes.
"Miss Moreau," the driver said, courteously gathering her things. "Mr. Devereux had just asked me to see it there safe."
And Bella slid into the back, her heart beating in her throat.
Her father settled beside her. "This is really generous of Julian," he added, as if she needed reminding. "He's doing both of us a big favor."
Bella placed her hands on her knees to keep from falling over. "I know."
"You'll be safe there," he threw in. "The guest suite is larger than your entire apartment."
She knew that without a second doubt.
But comfort wasn't the problem.
Her father took her hand in his and squeezed it. "Julian is like a brother to me. I trust him completely. He'll look out for you."
Bella forced a smile. "I know, Dad."
But a knot of worry had formed low in her stomach.
Because, whether her father knew it or not, she already knew Julian would take care of her.
That wasn't what terrified her.
What scared her the most was how badly she wanted him to.
The city whizzed by the window as they drove. Glass, steel, clouds. The skyline she had grown up under, all acropolis. She had ridden in front of Julian's building a thousand times before, always looking up with the same mixture of awe and desire.
This time, her chest froze a little as the SUV turned into a private car.
Because she wasn't here to call.
She was here to stay.
The structure towered before her, smooth and much too tall. The type of architecture that whispered wealth and power, rather than yelling it. Swagger with soft edges, the kind that could make you feel small even if your driver had dropped you off in an SUV.
The guard welcomed Robert and promptly opened the door for them to enter.
The lobby was empty, lit softly by the glow of marble floors. Everything was curated. Elegant. Intimidating.
Bella swallowed hard.
They were enclosed together between the sliding sides of the elevator door. The only sound on the ascent was the gentle whirring of machinery. Her father conversed on the subject of London, though Bella hardly attended to him.
The elevator opened onto a hall she had only been down twice, and never from this direction.
Her father knocked once.
And then the door opened.
Julian was at the door, sleeves rolled up, and hair ruffled as if he'd been running his fingers through it. He stood in the vestibule, big and warm, calm as he ever was; even at ease in a dark sweater and slacks.
"Robert," he said, pressing her father's hand. "Come in."
His gaze shifted to Bella.
Softening.
"Bella," he said, his voice gentle. "Welcome."
Her lungs didn't know how to work.
"Hi," she managed.
He moved back and waved them in.
The penthouse spread out before her like a place she had no right to enter. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned endless Central Park, the branches bare and winter-torn against the grey of the sky. The living space was spare but not sterile: charcoal, cream, gentle wood. A wall of bookshelves. Art that seemed both effortless and unattainable.
It was so woodsy-smelling, like cedar, coffee, and something almost masculine, that she sent her nerves on edge.
Bella took a deep breath, doing everything in her power not to ooze into the marble.
Her father let out a long whistle. "I swear I always forget how absurdly nice your place is."
Julian huffed a laugh. "It's only a place to sleep, Robert."
Bella nearly snorted. Yeah, right. And why, even the Louvre is only pictures in a building.
Julian turned to her. "Maria's in the kitchen. She's been prepping the guest suite since yesterday."
He gestured down the hallway.
Bella nodded, biting her lip and squeezing the strap of her bag with white knuckles. "Thank you. I… appreciate it. Really."
His smile relaxed further, gentle and reassuring.
"You're doing me a favor by being here," Julian said. "It's no trouble at all."
Bella's heart gave a little traitorous twist.
She looked down before she started staring at the cross for too long.
A second later, Maria smiled warmly when she looked up to see who was there. "Isabelle, sweetheart. It's been too long."
"Hi, Maria." Bella hugged her. "It's really great to see you."
Maria cupped Bella's cheeks. "You've grown so much. A beautiful young woman now. He didn't say a word to me... I damn near fainted when I saw how beautiful you are."
Bella wanted to the floor to swallow her whole.
Julian cleared his throat. "Maria…"
"What?" Maria said innocently. "It's true."
Robert laughed. "Don't blow her head up now."
Maria waved him off. "Her ego is perfectly sized. She should be able to see what the rest of us can if anything's in there."
Bella's cheeks burned.
Julian's expression was unreadable.
Which somehow made it worse.
The guest suite was unreal.
A private hallway. A spacious bedroom. A walk-in closet that was bigger than her whole apartment. A bathroom with a stone tub and a rainfall shower likely cost more than her annual income.
"This is too much," Bella murmured.
Julian leaned against the doorway. "It's just a room."
"It's not just a room," she muttered, overwhelmed.
"You need space," he said simply. "And comfort."
Her breath caught.
She didn't think he meant it in any way more profound. Julian was hardly the type to flirt, certainly not with her, but the gentle solemnity of his voice stung all the same.
Her father entered, surveying the place as if he expected safety violations to come skipping out and bite him in the face. "This is perfect," he said. "Bella, you're going to be really comfortable in here."
Bella didn't respond; comfort wasn't the issue.
It was proximity.
Now they were ten, even twelve steps apart. Sharing a home. Breathing the same air.
Julian pushed off the doorframe. "Let me give you a tour of the rest of the place."
Her father came next, talking of London once more. Maria followed along, repeating meal times.
Bella stood alone in the suite, attempting to digest this.
Her little boxes seemed absurd in a corner of the luxurious apartment, as if fragments of some other life were intruding where they had no business.
She gripped the edge of the marble dresser and steadied herself.
She could do this.
She had to do this.
For her father.
For her independence.
For her future.
She rehearsed the thoughts as a chorus; they were for good, sane reasons. Reasons that were not Julian-related at all.
But they faded as soon as she left the hall.
Because Julian was waiting.
And when his eyes met hers, so warm, so patient, so gentle.
Her heart betrayed her.
It leapt.
Her father took off an hour later, embracing her tightly at the doorway.
"Call me if you need anything," he whispered.
"I will," she promised.
He pulled back, smiling proudly. "I'll miss you, sweetheart."
"I'll miss you too."
Julian was standing next to them, his hands in his pockets. "I'll keep an eye on her," he said softly.
Bella's stomach twisted.
Her father slapped Julian on the back. "I know you will."
Then he was gone.
The door closed.
Silence settled.
Slow. Thick. Trembling.
Bella let out a breath, now acutely aware that she and Julian were alone.
Really alone.
"Are you hungry?" Julian asked gently. "Maria made dinner earlier."
"No, don’t thank you," Bella said quickly. "I— I’m okay."
He nodded. "If you change your mind, there's plenty."
He began to move away but halted and turned around.
"You don't have to be nervous," he said, gently.
Her breath caught. "I'm not."
He smiled, small, knowing, unbearably kind.
"It's alright if you are."
Bella's heartbeat fluttered painfully.
"Rest," Julian said. "Unpack tomorrow. Make yourself at home."
He then strode down the hallway into his office.
As soon as she was out of sight, Bella placed her hand on her chest.
Her heart was still racing.
She muttered into the silent penthouse.
"What have I done?"
But she already knew.
She had crossed the threshold.
And everything would never be the same.
- Writer
