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3

Liliana

I stood next to Julian, who made a few jokes that included me with a light shoulder bump. After he’d given his grandpa a hug, he turned to me.

“Since my rude brother didn’t introduce us, I’m Julian, the better-looking brother.” Julian stuck his hand out and flashed a charming grin at me.

Julian was tall and lean, wearing a perfectly tailored dark grey suit. He had handsome, chiseled features like Alistair and short sandy blonde hair neatly styled. While Alistair exuded a rugged, masculine charm, Julian was more polished and refined. Both men were attractive in their own very different ways.

“I couldn’t just abandon a customer in the middle of a sale,” he said, scanning the room, “or I’d have made it on time.”

Normally, I might have been flustered by how good-looking he was. But I had just spent half an hour next to Alistair, marveling at his handsomeness and even giving him my number.

Then I noticed his wedding band. At least I dodged a bullet there. I felt bad for his wife, wherever she was.

“Nice to meet you, Julian. My Grandpa James invited me,” I said as I shook his hand. “I’m Liliana.”

“Liliana. Wow. A gorgeous woman like you comes here and somehow I’ve missed you every time? Life truly isn’t fair,” he said, grinning broadly.

From some men, that line might have been an immediate turn-off—too bold and obvious. But Julian’s light tone and smile made it charming.

Maybe I latched onto his charm a little too eagerly, because focusing on Julian and our grandpas laughing together kept me from dwelling on how foolish I felt.

Why did I let myself think someone like Alistair might be interested in me—a decent guy? How often did that happen?

Usually, there was something wrong with the men who showed interest. And I usually didn’t let my guard down so easily, as I had done with Alistair.

But there was something about him that felt familiar. Something that put me at ease.

“So, tell me about yourself, Liliana. I’ll bet you’re a creative type,” Julian said, framing me with his hands like he was taking a picture. “Artist. Singer. Model.”

I knew how I looked. I was no slouch, but model was pushing it.

I was aVeronicage height and build. My thighs rubbed together when I walked, and certain areas jiggled with each step—a fact I used to be self-conscious about. But over the years, I’d grown to appreciate my figure.

I knew I was never going to be the type of woman who turned every head, but I was confident enough to know some men found me desirable.

“Spot on!” I said, clapping my hands together. “But you probably cheated. Saw me on the covers of last month’s Vogue, Vanity Fair, and Elle, so you already knew the answer!”

“You caught me.” He winked and chuckled. All I could think about was how my breath caught when Alistair winked at me earlier. “Do you do anything other than grace the covers of high-fashion magazines?”

“I work at a diner. You know, for fun. In my spare time, when I’m not attending business and design classes or walking red carpets.” I took a piece of cake offered by a staff member on a tiny paper plate.

“I was right! You’re a creative!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in victory.

“I think I can guess what you do too,” I admitted.

“Go ahead,” Julian said with a mouthful of cake.

He had already mentioned he worked in sales. And as smooth as he seemed, he couldn’t be selling things with small prices. He looked like someone who could convince anyone to buy anything. “You sell something expensive. Like computers. Solar panels. Or maybe cars. Definitely something fancy.”

Julian sounded impressed. “You got me. I’m a salesman at the Audi dealership on the south side of town. So, you’re a model, waitress, student, and a mind reader, huh?”

“I’ll update my resume tonight with that last one.” We grinned at each other and continued eating cake.

Julian leaned in, speaking quietly as if sharing a secret.

“I won’t tell Alistair, but between the two of us, who do you think is more charming?”

I burst out laughing. “Are we having a contest now?”

"Always," he replied with a wink. "The Ashford brothers' charm-off."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "I'll plead the fifth on that one."

He chuckled, nudging me playfully with his shoulder. "Fair enough. I’ll ask again later after I’ve had enough time to win you over properly."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alistair and the nurse who had called him away return. They stood just outside the dining room doors, engrossed in conversation.

Alistair glanced into the room and our eyes met briefly. Before I could look away, his attention shifted to Julian, his expression turning serious. Then he glanced back at me, offering a small, knowing smile.

I returned the smile quickly and refocused on Julian. Alistair was the one who had stirred butterflies in my stomach, but I couldn't shake the image of his wedding ring.

I couldn’t forget it. How could he flirt so openly when he was married?

I felt as deflated as the balloon that had startled me earlier, causing me to grab onto Alistair. Despite my initial excitement about exchanging numbers, there was no way I’d get involved with a married man.

“So, Liliana. Since you’re psychic and all,” Julian joked, “can you guess what I’m going to ask you next?”

I put all my attention on Julian and played along. It helped distract me from my disappointment a bit.

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