No Longer Your Errand Girl

an's penthouse, thick and cloying, even after she'd retired to his bedroom.

rble countertop. It scattered, cris

ian almond cookies she likes, the ones with the candied orange pe

deli, miles away, and i

I didn't know, lounged on the plush sofas, sm

s gleaming with amusement. They started making quiet be

y gathered the money, m

errand, every humili

re astronomical, and Julian was the only one who could, and would,

ndows as I walked towards the door. My freedom was a distant, almost unimagi

er, the doorman let me in with a pit

r blonde hair artfully messy against his chest. She

placed the deli bag

oice sweet, like poisoned honey

looked at me,

you get lost, or just enjoy the scen

an answer, turnin