Chapter 6

“And then?!” Nelly squeaked. “What happened next?”

My roommate lied sprawled out on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn propped on her stomach. I had finished regaling her with the events of the hike, or as Nelly dubbed it “The Jules Heist”. She'd even changed his contact name on my phone. It was not her finest creative moments.

I shrugged. “We came out and rejoined the rest of the group, there isn't much else to go into.”

She threw her hands up in outrage. “No kiss? No plans for the next date? This is outrageous!”

“He doesn't owe me anything.” I tried to temper down the tiny bite of disappointment. After giving him my number, Jules had suggested it was time to gather everyone up. So we ventured out from our little seclusion, with no firm plans and questions flitting through my mind. A part of me had even hoped for a kiss, but he simply brushed his lips across my jaw and bid goodbye.

I skimmed a finger across my cheeks where his touch lingered. I looked down at the paper on my lap, having spent hours trying to capture the afternoon down in drawing. Rough lines depicted two figures under the shadows of a forest, heads bent together, cocooned off by leaves all around. It was unlike me to be so sentimental, especially with someone I barely knew. How silly to have my hopes up for a gallivant free spirit.

Nelly huffed a loud groan, almost knocking off her popcorn bowl. “Guys nowadays have no chivalry. What ever happened to serenading ballads from the balcony or running off to elope in Vegas?”

“None of that sounds very appealing to be honest.”

“That's because you're out of touch with your romantic side. You need a man to sweep you off your feet and show you real passion.”

I laughed and patted her on the head. “You know my passions are my art and popcorn nights with you.”

“Aww sweetie, love you too.” Nelly stuffed more popcorn in her mouth, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in her eyes. “But my money's still on Jules. Who knows, he might have something up his sleeves.”

That night I set my alarm for 7:00 am, as was the norm on every workday. I'd leave the apartment within an hour, which gave enough time to grab a quick coffee before heading to the office. Working as an account manager for an ad agency with offices in Toronto and a newly minted one in Paris, I handled creative briefs for large corporations. The work was mostly paper-pushing boredom but it paid for city living, though at times I dreamed of taking off to travel the world with nothing but my sketchpad.

It was not the alarm that woke me the next morning but rather the notification ping on my phone. I groaned and blindly fumbled for the nightstand, pulling the phone right up against my bleary eyes. Wincing at the bright screen, I squinted at the text.

Jules Heist: Morning sunshine. I'm taking you to work in 30 minutes, so get ready.

I rubbed my eyes and read the message over. What in the world?

Kat: It's 6 in the morning.

Jules Heist: Yes and the day is looking perfect. If you hurry, we might even catch the sunrise along the way.

Kat: Isn't it too early for this on a Monday?

Jules Heist: Nonsense, there’s no better way to shake up your routine.

Kat: How do you even know where I live?

His reply was one worded: Nelly.

That sneaky little snitch, I thought even as I grinned from ear to ear. My response was just as singular.

OK.

Jumping out of bed, I rushed through a shower, then opted for lip balms and quick swipes of eyeliner. Picking an outfit took longer than usual. Did Jules prefer the sporty type or more dressed up? Should I go for chic wear, or something subtle for the office? I was half tempted to wake Nelly and get her opinion but quickly shook away the idea. Fussiness didn't suit me; I wore whatever made me comfortable, and no brown eyed man was going to change that.

Choosing a chunky cream sweater and blue jeans, I pulled on a pair of boots just as a soft knock rang from the door. I ran down the hallway, gave my cat lamp a rub for good luck, and then quietly opened the door, careful not to disturb Nelly sleeping across the hallway. Jules stood on the threshold, wearing a sports jacket and holding two large coffees. His hair was tossed in waves as if he'd ran a hasty hand through them, and the stubble over his jaw looked darker than yesterday’s. He stayed there without speaking for a minute, his gaze roaming between my tousled hair and sleepy eyes. Suddenly I felt shy, letting him see me rumbled and fresh out of bed.