Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER FOURTY-EIGHT
Elliot

Juliette emerged from her room around 7am. I'd already completed a workout, showered, changed for work and made breakfast by the time she came strolling into the kitchen.
"Morning." She mumbled sleepily, reaching for the pot of coffee I'd brewed for her and pouring herself a mug full.
"Good morning."
I was sat at the kitchen island, eating my eggs, and reading the financial pages of the newspaper. Well, I was trying to read, but my mind was elsewhere.
It was running over the events of the night before. Juliette laid out on the very counter I was sat at, her large creamy thighs spread wide for me, to be precise.
"You're such a morning person." Juliette mused over the brim of her cup, interrupting my erotic thoughts.
She was still dressed in her cutesy matching PJs she'd brought from home, her wayward hair piled up high on the top of her head, not a stitch of makeup on her face. The remnants of her makeover were still there though, her lashes darker than usual and brows perfectly tinted and shaped.
"Not enough hours in the day." I replied, turning the page as I pretended to read.
"If you say so." She shrugged, taking a seat at the stool opposite me, on the other side of the island.
"Help yourself to breakfast."
"Thanks."
She didn't hesitate to plate herself up an omelette and toast, the life entering her face as she took her first bite, finally coming around to the day.
I'd never lived with anyone before, except my parents when I was a kid. But something felt right about having Juliette there, sat across from me at breakfast, just existing in my space. It felt strangely comforting.
With Maya, every moment had felt difficult when she stayed the night at my apartment. The room wasn't dark enough when she slept over, the breakfast on offer didn't fit into her fad diet she was trialling that week, the bathroom didn't have proper lighting for her to apply her makeup.
With Juliette, it seemed easy.
She hummed her approval as she took another fork full of food, her sleepy eyes fluttering closed as she chewed. "These are good, my complements to your chef."
"The chef thanks you for your approval." I half laughed, enjoying watching her enjoying her food.
Juliette stopped mid chew; her mouth still full as she spoke. "You cooked this?"
"Don't seem too surprised, it's a crime for an Italian man not to know his way around a kitchen."
She carried on with her mouthful, watching me with a newfound interest.
"I'm a terrible cook." She admitted when she had finally swallowed and taken another sip of coffee.
"Duly noted." I smirked, finally giving up on my paper and folding it closed.
Picking up her toast, Juliette took a bite and groaned, the sound spoke directly to my groin. "I love toast."
"So it appears." I breathed.
When she'd finished the slice, she caught me watching her and awkwardly smiled. "So, what does the day of a high functioning businessman like yourself look like?"
"Well," I spun the stool and slid off it, "I'm going to fire some people, look over some structural changes to your best friend's business, take my mother to lunch and tell her I plan on proposing to you at the gala, then go back to work and fire more people."
Juliette raised her eyebrows at me. "You're telling your mum today? How do you think that's gunna go?"
"I think she will be delighted." There was no contempt in my voice, I genuinely thought my mother would be beside herself by the news that her eldest son was getting married. She was so desperate for me to find someone and settle down, and she liked Juliette well enough, I was sure she wouldn't even question my decision – or the potential of ulterior motives.
Juliette didn't seem convinced; anxiety etched on her face.
I rounded the island to stand next her, "She likes you Juliette, if that's what you're worried about?"
She shook her head, biting down on her thumbnail in thought, her eyes not meeting mine.
"I just feel bad, lying to her. How will she take it when we eventually separate? Your mum is a nice lady, I don't like the idea of pissing her off or upsetting her."
The only times I doubted my choice in Juliette as my fake bride to be when she let her emotions get the better of her. She was strong and capable, but also soft and considerate. They were admirable traits most of the time, but didn't bode well when I was asking her to lie to people and eventually hurt their feelings.
Maybe I was too cold, too used to being ruthless and blunt.
Our agreement was a business transaction after all, and I was using my usual tactics. I didn't know any other way.
After a long stretch of silence, I furrowed my brows and straightened my back. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but for now let's just get through one day at a time."
She nodded, finally meeting my gaze. Her dark brown eyes looked too large for her face, swimming with concern and unanswered questions about the future.
I couldn't resist, I reached for her cheek and traced it lightly with my fingertips, loving the feeling of her soft skin.
"I need to head to work, do you want to borrow one of my cars to drive to the store?" I asked, desperate to move the conversation away from our future or lack thereof.
"No thanks, I can't drive." She sighed, stepping away from my touch slightly and taking another sip of coffee.
"How do you usually get into the city for work?" I puzzled, confused by her admission.
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. "Ever heard of a thing called a bus?"
I blanched; I detested public transport.
"I can get you lessons, so you can drive to and from work. I know it's not too far, but you work on the other side of the city, it would take you an eternity to get from here to the store by bus."
"I have no intentions of learning to drive." She said flatly.
"And why is that?"
Juliette's face turned from slightly amused to completely vacant. There was a story there, I just didn't know it.
"I have my reasons." She whispered, lost in thought.
I wanted to stay and delve further into it, to ask her why, but if I didn't leave then and there, I would be late for work. And I'd never been late a single day of my career at Truman & Sons.
"I've got to head to work, I'm going to get Rebecca to share my calendar with you, so you know what events we have coming up. I'll catch you later."
And with that, I turned and left.

Rebecca knocked on my door at exactly 11.40am, a take-out cup in one hand and a pile of paperwork in the other.
"Mr Truman, your mother said she will be arriving around 12pm for lunch. I've brought you the notes from the last board meeting to look over as requested, and I also brought you a green tea from the canteen." She set both down on the edge of my desk as she spoke.
I looked up briefly from my computer monitor, long enough to give her a nod before continuing to scan my emails.
"Will you share my calendar with Miss St. James, my personal one not my business one?"
She gave me a competent smile. "Sure thing, anything else sir?"
"Actually, yes." I closed down my tab and grabbed the cup of hot tea, relishing its warmth in my palm as I dragged my eyes to my assistant. "I'd like you to dig up some dirt on Theodore Green at Goulding Jewellers."
With the recent revelation that he was the one who sold out Ashley and her business, and how that could directly affect what I had going with Juliette, I needed to make sure I had my ammunition in case he decided he wanted to start blabbing.
Rebecca cocked her eyebrow at me. This wasn't the first time I'd asked her to get blackmail material on a member of staff, I had files on half the board.
"Are you looking for anything in particular?" She asked after a beat.
I opened my mouth to reply but was interrupted by the sound of my phone receiving a text message.
I peered down at the screen, surprised to see Millie's name.