But I’d also met Julian, had those hours of feeling seen and valued, and now I had breakfast to look forward to in the morning. Sleep came slowly, my mind replaying moments from the evening. Victoria’s perfect smile, my mother’s dismissive comments, Julian’s hand in mine, the sparklers lighting up the night sky.
Tomorrow I’d go home to Denver, back to my apartment and my job and my regular life. But something had shifted tonight, some fundamental understanding about my place in my family and my own worth.
I woke around eight the next morning to sunlight streaming through the curtains. For a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. Then the previous day came flooding back, bringing with it a mix of emotions I wasn’t quite ready to face.
I showered and dressed carefully in casual clothes I’d packed, trying to look effortlessly pretty without seeming like I was trying too hard. The irony wasn’t lost on me. After spending an entire wedding being invisible, I was now worried about making a good impression on a man I’d just met.
Julian was waiting in the lobby at nine exactly, looking refreshed in jeans and a navy sweater that made his gray eyes even more striking. He smiled when he saw me, a genuine expression that made my stomach flutter.
«Good morning. You look beautiful.»
«You look pretty good yourself. Is that my line though? Aren’t men supposed to be the ones getting compliments on their appearance?»
«I believe in equal opportunity compliments. Come on, I heard they make excellent waffles here.»
The restaurant was moderately busy with other hotel guests, but we found a quiet table by the window overlooking the lake. Morning light sparkled on the water, and the whole scene felt peaceful in a way the previous day’s festivities hadn’t. Over breakfast, we talked more freely than we had at the wedding.
Julian told me about his work, about a particularly challenging project he was managing with a manufacturing company resistant to change. I told him about the bakery, about my boss who was brilliant but temperamental, about the satisfaction of creating something beautiful and delicious that brought joy to people.
«You light up when you talk about baking,» Julian observed, cutting into his waffle. «It’s obvious you love what you do.»
«I do. It’s the one area of my life where I feel completely confident. No second guessing. No wondering if I’m good enough. I know I’m good at what I do.»
«Then why do you let your family make you feel otherwise?» The question was direct, almost confrontational, but his tone remained gentle.
I set down my fork, considering how to answer. «Because they’re my family. Because some part of me still wants their approval, even though I know I’ll never get it. Not the way Victoria gets it, anyway.»
«What if you stopped wanting their approval? What if you decided your opinion of yourself mattered more than theirs?»
«Easier said than done when you’ve spent your whole life being compared to someone and coming up short.»
Julian reached across the table, his hand covering mine. «For what it’s worth, I think you’re extraordinary. And I don’t say that lightly.»
We finished breakfast and walked outside, neither of us quite ready to part ways. The morning was beautiful, the kind of June day that promised summer without the oppressive heat. Other guests were checking out, loading luggage into cars, heading back to their regular lives.
«I should probably get on the road soon,» I said reluctantly. «I have work tomorrow, and I need to prep some things this afternoon.»
«Before you go, can I ask you something?» Julian’s expression turned serious. «Last night, watching how your family treated you, seeing how they’ve made you feel small and unimportant, it made me angry. Not just sympathetic, but genuinely angry on your behalf.»
«That’s kind of you, but…»
«I’m not finished. What if there was a way to change the narrative? To make them see you differently, to give you back some of the power they’ve been taking from you all these years?»
I studied his face, trying to understand where this was going. «What do you mean?»
«I mean, what if we continued this? Not fake dating, but real dating? What if we spent time together, built something genuine, and along the way, showed your family that you’re not the disappointment they’ve painted you as?»
«Julian, I’m not going to use you to make my family jealous. That’s not fair to you.»
«You wouldn’t be using me, I’m offering. Because I want to see you again regardless, but I also want to help you if I can. Think about it. Your sister just married a pharmaceutical executive, right? Well, I happen to be someone her new husband’s company needs. Someone who could make things very interesting for them.»
A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the morning air. «What are you saying, exactly?»
Julian’s expression shifted, becoming more calculating than I’d seen before. «I’m saying that Gregory’s company, Bennett Health Solutions, has been in talks with my firm about a major sustainability overhaul. It’s a multi-million dollar project that would significantly improve their environmental impact and their public image. I’m one of the lead consultants on the proposal.»
«And you’d use that as leverage somehow?»
«Not leverage exactly. Just an opportunity to remind them that people they overlook might be more important than they realize. Your family, especially Victoria, seems very invested in status and success. What if you suddenly had access to that world through me? What if they had to see you differently?»
I should have said no. I should have thanked him for the thought, but explained that revenge wasn’t my style, that I was above such pettiness. But standing there in the morning light, remembering every slight and dismissal from the night before, something darker whispered that maybe I deserved a little vindication.
«This feels manipulative,» I said slowly.
«Is it more manipulative than seating you behind a pillar at your own sister’s wedding? Than never mentioning you have a sister to colleagues she worked with on planning? Than your mother pretending you don’t exist in her speeches?»
Julian’s voice was passionate now. «Sometimes the people who hurt us need to be shown consequences. Not cruelty. Just consequences. What would this actually look like? I’m not going to sabotage anyone’s business or career. I’m not that person.»
«Nothing like that. I’m talking about visibility. About making sure you’re present and acknowledged at future family events. About your sister and mother realizing that dismissing you means potentially damaging relationships that matter to Gregory’s career. About you finally getting the respect you deserve, even if it starts from a place of obligation rather than genuine affection.»
It was twisted logic, and I knew it. But it was also seductive. How many years had I spent being invisible? How many family gatherings had I endured being treated as lesser? The thought of Victoria being forced to acknowledge me, to include me, to treat me like I mattered. It was intoxicating.
«I need to think about this,» I said finally.
«Of course. Take all the time you need. But Elizabeth, whether you agree to any of this or not, I meant what I said about wanting to see you again. That part is real. No manipulation involved.»
We exchanged phone numbers before parting. Julian kissed me goodbye, another gentle kiss that made my heart race. And then I was driving back to Denver with my thoughts in turmoil.
The next week passed in a blur of work and confusion. Julian texted me daily, casual messages about his day that gradually built into longer conversations. We talked about everything and nothing.
Books we’d read, places we wanted to travel, childhood memories that shaped us. He never pushed about his proposition, never brought up Victoria or revenge or any of it. He just talked to me like I was someone worth knowing.
On Friday he called. «I have a business dinner next Thursday in Denver. A potential client I’m trying to woo. Would you want to join me? Fair warning, it might be boring corporate talk, but I’d love your company.»
«Are you sure? I don’t know anything about renewable energy consulting.»
«That’s exactly why I want you there. You’ll keep me honest, keep the conversation from disappearing completely into jargon. Plus, the restaurant is supposed to have an incredible pastry chef. I thought you might enjoy critiquing their desserts.»
I laughed despite myself. «You’re bribing me with professional reconnaissance?»
«Is it working?»
«Yes. What’s the dress code?»
Thursday arrived faster than I expected. I left work early to prepare, changing into a black dress that was elegant without being flashy. Julian picked me up looking devastatingly handsome in a dark suit.
The restaurant was upscale, the kind of place where the menu doesn’t list prices, and the wine list requires a sommelier to navigate. Julian’s client was already there, a middle-aged woman named Patricia, who I recognized from Victoria’s wedding. She’d been at our table, one of Gregory’s colleagues from Bennett Health Solutions.
Her eyes widened with recognition when she saw me. «Elizabeth, what a lovely surprise. I didn’t realize you and Julian were still together.»
«Still together and going strong,» Julian said smoothly, his hand warm on my back. «Elizabeth has been patient with my crazy work schedule.»
We sat, and I tried to fade into the background as Julian and Patricia discussed the sustainability project. But Patricia kept pulling me into the conversation, asking about my work, expressing genuine interest in the bakery where I worked.
«That sounds fascinating. I have such respect for people who work with their hands, who create tangible things. My job is all spreadsheets and conference calls. Sometimes I miss making something real.»
The dinner progressed pleasantly, and when dessert arrived, a deconstructed lemon tart with lavender cream. I couldn’t help offering my professional opinion. «The components are technically excellent, but they’re fighting each other rather than creating harmony. The lavender is too strong, overwhelming the lemon instead of complementing it.»
Patricia leaned forward with interest. «Could you fix it? If you were making this, what would you change?»
I found myself explaining the balance of flavors, the importance of letting each element shine without dominating. Julian watched me with something like pride, and Patricia listened intently, asking follow-up questions that showed she was genuinely engaged.
«You know, we’re planning a major corporate event in August,» Patricia said as coffee was served. «A celebration for the successful completion of our sustainability project, assuming Julian’s team delivers everything they’ve promised, of course.» She smiled at him. «We haven’t settled on a caterer yet. Would your bakery be interested in handling the desserts?»
I blinked, caught off guard. «We’re a small operation. I’m not sure we’d have the capacity for a large corporate event.»
«Let me rephrase. Would you personally be interested in creating desserts for the event? We could work around your schedule, and I’m authorized to offer very competitive compensation.»
Julian squeezed my hand under the table, a silent show of support. «Elizabeth’s work is exceptional. You’d be lucky to have her.»
«I’d need to talk to my boss, make sure it wouldn’t conflict with bakery commitments, but yes, I’d be interested in discussing it further.»
Patricia smiled warmly. «Excellent. I’ll have my assistant reach out to you next week with details. And Julian, excellent choice in girlfriend. She’s delightful.»
After dinner, Julian drove me home. I was quiet, processing what had just happened. At my apartment building, he parked and turned to face me.
«That was quite an evening,» he said.
«Did you plan that? The dessert conversation? Patricia offering me that job?»
«I didn’t plan anything. I told Patricia we were having dinner with her, and I mentioned you were a pastry chef. The rest was all her genuine interest. And your talent speaking for itself.»
«But you knew she might offer me something.»
«I hoped she might see what I see. That you’re incredibly skilled at what you do, and deserve opportunities to showcase that talent. Is that so wrong?»
I studied his face in the dim light from the street lamp. «I can’t tell if you’re genuinely trying to help me, or if this is all part of some elaborate revenge plot.»
«Can’t it be both? I care about you, Elizabeth. That’s real. But I also think the people who’ve dismissed you should be forced to reckon with your worth. Not through sabotage or cruelty. Just through reality. Through them having to acknowledge your talent and value because it affects things they care about.»
«This is complicated.»
«The best things usually are.» He reached over, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. «For what it’s worth, I’m falling for you. That complicates things too, but I’m not sorry about it.»
My breath caught. «Julian, you don’t have to…»
«Say anything. I just wanted you to know where I stand. Now go inside before I do something impulsive like kiss you senseless in front of your building.»
I got out of the car, but leaned back through the window. «I’m falling for you too, just so you know.»
His smile could have lit up the entire city. «Good. That makes what comes next easier.»
«What comes next?»
«Patience. You’ll see.»
The following week, Patricia’s assistant called with details about the corporate event. It would be in mid-August, celebrating the completion of Bennett Health Solutions’ transition to sustainable practices. They wanted an elaborate dessert spread for 200 guests, and they were offering three times my usual rate.
I discussed it with my boss, who was thrilled at the prospect of the exposure and the money. We worked out an arrangement where I’d use the bakery kitchen during off hours, and the bakery would get credited as a partner while I’d receive the bulk of the payment.
Julian and I fell into a pattern over the next few weeks. Dinners, movies, long conversations that stretched late into the night. He was easy to be with, making me laugh and challenging me to think differently about things.
The physical attraction was undeniable, but what surprised me was how much I enjoyed simply being around him. We didn’t talk much about Victoria or my family during those weeks. It was like we’d created a bubble where that drama didn’t exist, where I could just be myself without the weight of family expectations.
Then, six weeks after the wedding, Victoria called.
«Elizabeth? Hi. Sorry I haven’t been in touch since the honeymoon. Things have been crazy with settling into married life.»
«No worries. How was the trip?»
«Incredible. The Maldives were everything we hoped for. Listen, I wanted to see if you were free for lunch this Saturday. I feel like we haven’t really talked in forever, and I want to catch up properly.»
I almost said no out of habit, but then I thought about Julian’s words, about visibility and respect. «Sure, I can do lunch. Where did you have in mind?»
We met at an upscale bistro near her new house, the kind of place where Victoria felt comfortable. She looked tanned and relaxed, the picture of newlywed bliss. We ordered salads and made small talk about the honeymoon, about her new neighborhood, about Gregory’s work.
«So,» she said finally, «tell me about Julian. You two seemed quite close at the wedding, but you never mentioned you were seeing anyone.»
«It’s relatively new. We met a few months ago through work connections.»
«He seems very successful. Gregory’s colleagues were all impressed by him. Apparently, his company is handling a massive project for Bennett Health.»
There it was. The real reason for this lunch. Not sisterly bonding, but fishing for information about someone who mattered to her husband’s career.
«Julian’s very good at what he does,» I said neutrally.
«I’m just surprised you never mentioned him before. I mean, I told you all about Gregory when we started dating.»
Had she though? I remembered stilted phone calls where she’d mentioned having a boyfriend but provided few details, but pointing that out would only create conflict, and I was curious to see where this conversation was heading. «I tend to keep my personal life private.»
«Well, I’m glad you’re happy, and I heard you’re doing the desserts for the Bennett Health event in August. That’s wonderful. Gregory mentioned Patricia was very impressed with you.»
«It’s a good opportunity.»
Victoria stirred her salad absently. «Listen, I wanted to apologize if things felt weird at the wedding. I know the seating arrangement wasn’t ideal, and I feel bad that we didn’t get much time to talk.»
«The seating arrangement put me behind a pillar, Victoria. It wasn’t just ‘not ideal,’ it was humiliating.»
She had the grace to look uncomfortable. «That was the wedding planner’s mistake. She didn’t understand family dynamics, and by the time I saw the setup, it was too late to change things without causing chaos.»
«You could have mentioned having a sister to Gregory’s colleagues, to anyone, but you didn’t.»
«That’s not fair. Of course people know I have a sister.»
«Patricia didn’t. She was surprised at the wedding when Julian mentioned it. She said you’d never brought it up during all your planning meetings.»
Victoria’s face flushed. «I don’t talk about my personal life at work. That doesn’t mean I’m hiding you.»
«Doesn’t it though? When was the last time you invited me to anything? When did you last call just to talk, not because you needed something or had an obligation?»
«Elizabeth, you’re being dramatic. We’re sisters. Of course we have a relationship.»
«Do we? Because from where I’m sitting, we have a biological connection, and not much else. You treat me like an afterthought, like someone you have to include out of duty, but would rather forget.»
Victoria set down her fork, her composure cracking slightly. «Is that really what you think? That I don’t care about you?»
«I think you care about me the way you care about distant cousins. Present at major events but not really part of your life, and honestly I’ve accepted that. What bothers me is the pretense. Don’t invite me to lunch and act like we’re close when we both know we’re not.»
«Fine. You want honesty? I’ll give you honesty. You made choices that embarrassed our mother. You chose a career path that she couldn’t brag about to her friends. You refused to conform to the expectations we grew up with, and yes, that created distance between us. I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, but it’s the truth.»
