I felt a presence before I heard his voice. A deep, smooth voice that carried an air of authority yet held a note of curiosity.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here, Rose."
I turned sharply, my heart nearly skipping a beat as my blue eyes met his intense gaze. Julian. The man who had given me a ride home that rainy night. The man who had lingered in my thoughts longer than I cared to admit. But now, standing before me in an impeccably tailored suit, with the same unreadable expression, I felt a wave of confusion crash over me.
"Mr. Carter?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Realization struck me like lightning. Julian Carter. The son of Maxwell Carter. Vivienne's older brother. The puzzle pieces fit together, and suddenly, I felt incredibly out of place.
His lips quirked into the faintest smirk, as if enjoying my moment of realization. "So you do remember me."
"Yes, I do," I admitted, clearing my throat. "I just… didn't know you were a Carter."
He studied me for a moment, his gaze unwavering. "And I didn't expect to see you working here as a nanny."
I straightened my posture, suddenly feeling the need to justify myself. "People take on jobs for many reasons, Mr. Carter."
"Julian," he corrected, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You seemed different the last time we met. At the club, you had a different energy."
My chest tightened slightly. Of course, he would remember me from there. The club was a different world, one I had left behind. "That was another time," I said, keeping my voice even. "Things change."
He nodded, his expression unreadable. "I see." There was something in his tone, something that hinted at curiosity—or maybe suspicion.
I glanced away, trying to regain my composure. "If you'll excuse me, I have duties to attend to."
Julian didn't move, but his gaze remained fixed on me. "You've changed."
I met his eyes again, this time with a small, knowing smile. "Maybe. Or maybe you just never really knew me."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then, with a slight tilt of his head, he stepped aside, allowing me to pass.
As I walked away, I felt the weight of his gaze lingering on me.