After I hired a college guy as my live-in boyfriend, my “one that got away” came back. He saw us together and his eyes went red. "I'm back. Get rid of him." But the college guy just kneeled at my feet, his face a mask of beautiful despair. "Don't send me away, Seraphina. I'll do anything." 1 It was Leo’s birthday, which also marked three years of him being my perfect stand-in. I’d ordered him a $2,000 custom cake. He was in the middle of singing me a love song, his face flushed. The door to the private room burst open. A man I hadn't seen in three years stood there, holding a bouquet of impossible, gold-dusted roses. Julian Cole. The new king of indie cinema. My white whale. The music died. Beside me, Leo went rigid. My friends, however, erupted. "Julian! You're back! Sit here, sit next to Sera!" "You, kid, move! God, don't be so slow." Leo lowered his head, his hair hiding his expression. He was probably about to cry. My little college boy had such a fragile heart. He'd cry, and his nose and ears would turn the most delicious shade of pink. I've always loved watching him cry. Especially in bed. But right now, my attention was on Julian. Three years had been good to him. His frame was broader, practically radiating male pheromones. His eyes were deeper, his features so sharp he looked less like a man and more like a work of art you weren't allowed to touch. It made you want to touch him. To shatter that composure. In the few seconds I was silent, Leo’s entire posture deflated. "I... I don't want to interrupt," he whispered, his voice thick. "I'll just go." He slowly put on his coat. Slowly wrapped his scarf. He was waiting for me to stop him. I just nodded. "Go home and make that soup. I'll be back late." He thought his tears were his trump card. I indulge him because he has value. But I am not managed by him. Leo’s face went pale. He walked out. I patted the empty seat. Julian sat, and his deep voice was laced with vinegar. "You didn't stay lonely, I see." I handed him a glass of champagne. "You're the one who bailed on our engagement to 'find yourself' in Europe. You left. Did you expect me to join a convent?" He flinched, then downed the champagne. "I was just a trust fund kid. I wanted to be... better. Worthy of you." I shrugged. "That sounds like a you problem." Honestly, I'm glad he ran. If he hadn't, I wouldn't be this free. A woman should have her fun. When you're ready, you find a good-looking man to sign a prenup and settle down. A woman's experience is her greatest asset. The men you've tasted, the places you've seen—they're all part of your story. My friends were already fawning over Julian. "Sera never got over you, Julian. She even found a replacement built on your exact specs!" "She was a mess after you left. Drunk every night, looking for you in every guy." "But he's just a boy toy. We only ever approved of you." I let them talk, watching Julian's ego visibly inflate. Men are so easy to manage. Hours later, I was curled up in his lap. His voice was rough with whiskey. "I missed you, Sera." He whispered against my ear, "Don't go home tonight." 2 I woke up the next morning, my voice hoarse. It was... a good reunion. Julian may be twenty-eight, but his stamina had only improved. I slipped out of bed. He grabbed my wrist. "Don't go to the office. Stay. It's been three years." I pulled my hand free, fastening my cufflink. "Don't be ridiculous. I run an empire. My time is money." He sat up, his eyes intense. "My quotes are only getting higher. I can support you." I laughed. But I wasn't mad. It was... cute. The naive, passionate declaration of a man who still thinks he's the main character. I grabbed my Hermès and my Aston Martin keys. "Call me when you make the Forbes list, darling." He was speechless. I spent the morning in back-to-back meetings. At noon, my assistant brought in lunch. Duck and bamboo shoot soup, black truffle-infused mushrooms, cod in a crab-roe broth, and a soufflé. Leo was a culinary genius. It was, after his face, his primary value. "Where's Leo?" I asked. He usually stayed to eat with me. "Mr. Nie dropped off the food and left, ma'am. He... he seemed unwell." I checked my phone. A dozen missed calls from last night. 7 PM: [The soup is ready. Come home?] 9 PM: [I showered... I'm wearing the... tail... you like.] 11 PM: [If you're not coming home, I'm going back to my dorm.] 2 AM: [Please come back. I'm begging you. I miss you...] I put the phone down. He cried himself to sleep, and now he's throwing a tantrum. I'll deal with it tonight. Just as I predicted, I got home and found him packing a suitcase, his eyes swollen. He ignored me. I grabbed his chin, forcing his head up. "Why are you leaving? Is my money not good enough? Or am I not f*cking you hard enough?" His eyes were red, trying to look cold. "Your real boyfriend is back. The stand-in knows when to exit." I sighed. "Don't you feel it? This isn't just about him anymore." His lip trembled. "You chose him last night. You... you know I waited all night? The soup boiled dry..." He broke. "All this time... it was all a lie!" I frowned. "I don't like men who cry. And I didn't 'choose' anyone. "I already sent the wire for your mother's medical bills and your father's gambling debts. I doubled it. If you're still upset, I'll add another fifty grand to your monthly allowance." His sobbing stopped. His eyes, wide and wet, just blinked. "Didn't... choose?" He wiped his face, a little smile breaking through. I opened my arms. He collapsed into them. I stroked his back. He smelled so good. "Honestly, Leo," I murmured, "I have a soft spot for you. The deadbeat dad, the sick mom... your life is a mess. I know this isn't easy for you. I can't stand to see a man cry." He sniffled, "I'll go shower." "Good boy." Men are simple. Give them a little validation, and they're yours. While he was showering, I checked my feeds. Julian had posted a new promo shot, his abs defined. The caption: [You Only]. I liked it. Comment: [Needs to be spicier.] He messaged me instantly. [Tonight?] I sent him a picture of my desk. [Working.] I put my phone down and sipped my wine. It's exhausting managing this many male egos. Good thing I'm a professional. 3 The next day, my top agent told me she'd signed Julian Cole. He'd approached her. He was the hottest thing in Hollywood, and he walked right into my company, Shang Media. I called him. "You don't have to be so excited," he said, his voice smiling. "I had to sign somewhere. This way, we can see each other more." "Excited? Julian, it's a privilege for you to sign with me. I'm calling to remind you that my talent is expected to behave. Don't tarnish my brand. "If you work hard, I'll make you a legend. If you screw up, I'll bury you. Got it?" He was silent. "Now," I continued, "I've already picked your next projects. An art film with Aronofsky, a blockbuster with Nolan, and a reality dating show." His voice went up an octave. "A dating show? You'd let me do that?" Men. So emotional. "It's just an IRL rom-com for the audience, Julian. Don't actually fall for anyone. Just be the perfect 'book boyfriend' and build your female fanbase." He chuckled, his mood restored. "I knew it. You can't stand the thought of me with anyone else." Whatever. If the delusion benefits me, I'll allow it. I flew out to the private island for the show's first day. I bought a villa there. And, of course, I brought Leo. "Sister," he whispered, massaging my shoulders, "you're so good to me." "I bought you new swim trunks. Go try them on." He came back, blushing. "They're... a little tight. Is there a bigger size?" I sipped my coconut water. "No. They're perfect." Good assets should be displayed. He knelt by my lounge chair, his amber eyes looking up at me. "Did you... did you ever buy swim trunks for him?" Tsk. So competitive. "No." Three years ago, Julian was an ice king. I was the one chasing him. He'd rejected me, even fled the country. Now that I don't care, he's back, claiming it was "insecurity." I don't care what it was. I only believe in power. When you're strong enough, the world kisses your feet. Leo smiled, a slow, soft kiss on my knee. He kissed his way down my calf, to my ankle. The air got thick. He was a quick study. He was young, energetic, and creative. He'd get me half-delirious, then whisper: "Like this? Or this?" "Again? Are you sure you're done?" "Sister... say you love me. Say it, or I don't stop." My phone rang. He covered my eyes with one hand, declining the call with the other. It rang again. He saw the caller ID. He swiped to answer. Julian. "My agent said you bought a villa. Send me the address. I'm coming over after we wrap." I was on my stomach. I tried to keep my voice steady. "I'm busy... I'll text y—" A sudden, hard thrust from behind made my voice crack and break. The line went silent for two seconds. Julian's voice was ice. "There's someone there? Tell him to get out. Now." Leo just smirked, his eyes feral. "Sister," he whispered, "don't tell him. I don't want a stranger in our house." Julian was roaring. "Leo, is it? You're going to regret this." Leo hung up. I wrapped my arms around his neck. Tonight, no one was sleeping. 4 I woke up at 2 PM. My phone was blown up. My agent: [Julian walked off set.] I had no appetite. I floored the Aston Martin to the production site. Julian got in, his face a thundercloud. He was waiting for an apology. I gave him one. "Are you an idiot? A-lister ego, D-list talent. You're my employee. You're embarrassing my brand. You want to quit? Fine. Pay the fifty-million-dollar breach-of-contract fee, kiss the director's ass, and get the hell out of my sight." He was stunned. "Aren't you going to explain last night?" "Explain what? To you? Who are you?" His eyes were burning. "Fine, Seraphina. You don't care about me at all." I lit a slim cigarette. "I care about my assets. You're an adult, Julian. Stop being so childish." He snapped. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me, hard. It was all anger and frustration and the smell of expensive cologne. I just let him. The one who loses their cool is the one who loses. He finally pulled back, breathing hard, his eyes red. "He's just more obedient, isn't he?" I took a drag. "At least his value is clear. I'll see you on set." He went back. The show was fine. My agent told me Julian was a robot when I was gone, but the second I was on set, he turned into the world's most devoted lover for the cameras. Leo, hearing I was "suffering" with set catering, started bringing me gourmet meals. He'd feed me a pomegranate seed. On camera, Julian would feed his co-star a bite of pear. Leo would drape his coat over my shoulders. Julian would get on his knees and tie his co-star's shoe. "Sister," Leo whispered, "he's so... performative. I could never be that familiar with another woman." He smelled so good. I smiled. Julian saw it. His co-star's heel broke. He swept her up into his arms and carried her, his eyes boring into me as he passed the monitors. I just turned to the director. "That was great footage. Make sure you get that in the final cut." That night, he dragged me into a janitor's closet, pressing me against the wall. "Why aren't you jealous? Hm?" I put my hand on his throat. "Monogamy is a man's best quality, Julian. If you're not... exclusive... you're worthless. Why would I fight over something worthless? "Don't try to use other women to raise your own stock price. I'll fight for a diamond. Not a piece of meat." He looked... wrecked. "You... you're comparing me to meat?" I just smiled and walked away. I went home to my good boy, who had dinner, a fruit platter, and a hot bath waiting. A woman works this hard... for this.
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