Chapter 10 - Come Get MeJulian had never moved so fast in his life.
Norah barely had time to grab her coat before he was already calling security, Owen, and the police simultaneously.
“Julian.”
“No.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“I know what you’re going to say.”
“We should go.”
“You are not going into that apartment.”
“It’s my apartment.”
“It may currently contain someone who has been secretly watching you.”
“That is exactly why I want to know who.”
“You can know after law enforcement removes them.”
Norah looked at Owen.
“Help me.”
Owen shook his head.
“For once, I’m with him.”
“Traitor.”
“Alive traitor.”
Elena stood near the boardroom doorway, visibly shaken.
“I might know who it is.”
Everyone turned.
Julian’s expression sharpened.
“Who?”
“When Isabelle first contacted me, there was another man.”
“What man?”
“I never knew his full name. She called him Daniel.”
Julian froze.
Norah knew that reaction now.
Another ghost.
“Who is Daniel?” she asked.
Owen answered this time.
“Daniel Reeves.”
“Meaning?”
“Julian’s former business partner.”
Norah remembered instantly.
Boston.
The engagement.
Isabelle cheating with Julian’s business partner.
“In your apartment,” Norah whispered.
Julian nodded.
“With Isabelle.”
The pattern suddenly made terrible sense.
Isabelle.
Daniel.
Not merely former lovers.
Two people connected by betrayal.
“What happened to him?” Norah asked.
“I bought his shares.”
Julian’s voice was cold.
“Forced him out.”
“And?”
“He lost almost everything during the financial crisis two years later.”
Adrian looked thoughtful.
“Did he blame you?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to wait twelve years?”
Julian looked toward Norah.
“Apparently.”
The police reached Norah’s building before they did.
Julian ignored several red lights anyway.
Norah sat beside him in the back seat, holding his hand.
Neither spoke.
At the building entrance, Mrs. Chen stood behind an officer wearing pink slippers and a floral robe.
She pointed dramatically toward Norah.
“That woman was not your cousin.”
“I gathered that.”
“She was too thin.”
Norah blinked.
“What?”
“You said your aunt cooks.”
Even Julian looked confused.
Mrs. Chen waved dismissively.
“Go.”
They went.
Police had already entered Norah’s apartment.
The intruder was gone.
The bedroom window was open.
On Norah’s bed sat a single envelope.
Julian tried to prevent her from entering.
She went anyway.
Inside the envelope was a photograph.
Julian.
Twelve years younger.
Standing outside a restaurant beside Isabelle.
Behind them, partially visible, Daniel Reeves.
On the back someone had written:
YOU TOOK MY COMPANY.
YOU TOOK HER.
NOW I TAKE WHAT YOU LOVE.
Julian read it twice.
“This is about me.”
Norah touched his arm.
“No. It’s about a man who blames everyone else for his choices.”
“He targeted you because of me.”
“He targeted me because he’s dangerous.”
“If I had never—”
“Stop.”
Julian looked at her.
“No more deciding I’d be safer without you. We already tried that storyline. It was terrible.”
Despite everything, Owen made a small sound that might have been laughter.
Julian did not smile.
“Norah.”
“I mean it.”
She stepped directly in front of him.
“You are not responsible for every terrible thing other people do because they know you.”
“But—”
“No.”
She put both hands against his chest.
“You love me?”
“You know I do.”
“Then trust me to decide whether loving you is worth the risk.”
His eyes became glassy.
“It is.”
“What?”
“The risk.”
Her voice softened.
“You’re worth it.”
He closed his eyes.
Then pulled her against him.
For several seconds, the apartment disappeared.
The police.
The threats.
The years of old betrayal.
Everything.
“I’m never going to stop worrying about you,” he murmured into her hair.
“I know.”
“I’m going to be irritating.”
“You already are.”
“Controlling.”
“We’re working on it.”
“Overprotective.”
“Extremely.”
He leaned back.
“And you still want me?”
Norah smiled.
“Inappropriately.”
The old phrase finally made him laugh.
It was brief.
But real.
By afternoon, Adrian located Daniel.
Or at least his phone.
A private airfield in New Jersey.
A charter jet had been booked under a false corporate account for 6:00 p.m.
Police units moved toward the location.
Julian, naturally, wanted to go.
Norah, naturally, told him that was stupid.
They compromised by going to Cross Global’s secure operations room and watching everything remotely.
At 5:34, cameras showed Daniel Reeves entering a hangar.
Norah had never seen him before except in photographs.
He was handsome in a worn, angry way.
Gray at the temples.
Expensive coat.
A man who looked like he had spent years believing the world owed him something.
At 5:41, Isabelle arrived.
Norah stared at the monitor.
“She came back.”
Julian looked almost disappointed rather than surprised.
“She couldn’t resist seeing the ending.”
Police waited.
Adrian was coordinating with investigators.
“They need proof of conspiracy,” he explained. “If officers move too early, Isabelle claims she was meeting him for unrelated reasons.”
They listened through an authorized surveillance feed.
Isabelle’s voice came through first.
“You said Quinn would resign.”
“She should have.”
“You underestimated her.”
Daniel laughed.
“No. Cross did.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
Daniel continued.
“He always thinks money solves everything.”
Norah glanced at Julian.
“He’s clearly never seen us argue about couches.”
Julian almost smiled.
Isabelle sounded angry.
“Elena turned.”
“She was weak.”
“She gave them Margaret.”
“Margaret was expendable.”
Owen muttered, “Charming man.”
Then Isabelle said the sentence investigators needed.
“What about the money?”
Daniel replied.
“We lost the transfer, but the short position still pays if the company drops another fifteen percent. Release the remaining documents tonight.”
Adrian immediately spoke into the radio.
“That’s enough.”
Police entered.
For several moments, the screen became chaos.
Officers.
Shouting.
Daniel attempting to run.
Isabelle screaming that they had no right.
Then it ended.
Both were detained.
Norah released a breath she had apparently been holding for days.
Owen collapsed backward in his chair.
“Now can I have my vacation?”
Julian looked at him.
“No.”
“I quit.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I hate this company.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Unfortunately true.”
Adrian stood near the doorway.
He had been unusually quiet since the arrests.
Julian noticed.
“So.”
Adrian looked at him.
“So.”
Norah watched them.
Neither brother seemed capable of moving first.
She decided she was tired of Cross men requiring external intervention for emotional matters.
“Julian.”
He glanced at her.
“Ask him.”
“Ask him what?”
She gave him a look.
Julian sighed.
“Dinner.”
Adrian stared.
“What?”
“Have dinner with us.”
“Tonight?”
“No. Norah and I have had enough excitement tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
Julian looked uncomfortable.
“Or whenever.”
Adrian’s face softened almost imperceptibly.
“Okay.”
Julian blinked.
“Okay?”
“Yes.”
“You could have made that more difficult.”
“I considered it.”
Norah smiled.
“And Elena?”
Adrian looked toward the interrogation room where their younger sister was cooperating with federal investigators.
“That will take time.”
Julian nodded.
“We have time.”
That sentence felt important.
They did.
For the first time, Julian Cross was not trying to win everything immediately.
He was learning to build.
Trust.
Family.
A life.
Six weeks later, the Cross Global scandal had become old news.
Daniel Reeves and Isabelle Lauron faced multiple charges.
Margaret resigned from the board before she could be formally removed.
Elena accepted a cooperation agreement and entered therapy at Adrian’s insistence. Julian had not forgiven her exactly.
But he had spoken to her.
Three times.
For the Cross family, Norah considered that astonishing progress.
Cross Global stock recovered.
The investigation officially cleared Norah of wrongdoing.
More importantly to her, an independent governance committee published the evaluation records surrounding her promotion.
Her appointment had been unanimous.
Merit-based.
Documented.
She printed the report.
Then she placed it in Leo’s hands.
“Frame this.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I’ve waited my entire career for this moment.”
“You’ve been here two years.”
“Exactly.”
The penthouse finally had furniture.
Norah won the couch argument.
Mostly.
Julian insisted on choosing the mattress.
Apparently billionaires had extremely strong opinions about mattresses.
One Saturday evening, Norah returned from shopping with Mara and found the apartment strangely quiet.
“Julian?”
No answer.
She set down her bags.
Then she saw a message on her phone.
COME GET ME.
Norah laughed.
Of course.
She followed another message toward the terrace.
Candles lined the windows.
Not hundreds.
Julian knew she would call that excessive.
Maybe thirty.
Which was apparently his version of restraint.
He stood outside under the Manhattan evening sky wearing a dark suit.
A gorgeous suit.
Inappropriately gorgeous.
Norah stopped at the terrace doors.
“You are ridiculous.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
Julian extended a hand.
She took it.
On the terrace was a small table.
The same table they had used the first night in the unfinished penthouse.
Beside it sat the original floor plans.
Norah immediately looked toward the room they had once left unnamed.
The room was still empty.
Waiting.
Someday.
Julian followed her gaze.
“Still no pressure.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Then he became nervous.
Actually nervous.
Norah had seen Julian face hostile boards, federal investigators, billion-dollar negotiations, and a revenge-obsessed former business partner.
She had never seen his hands shake.
They were shaking now.
“Oh.”
Julian exhaled.
“Please don’t say wait this time.”
Norah’s heart exploded.
“Julian.”
He lowered himself onto one knee.
For once in her life, Norah Quinn had absolutely nothing to say.
Julian Cross looked up at her.
“No speech I prepared sounded right.”
“You prepared a speech?”
“Three.”
She laughed through sudden tears.
“I deleted them.”
“Good.”
“Apparently I’m supposed to speak now.”
“That’s usually how proposals work.”
His mouth moved.
Even nervous, he was still Julian.
He opened the small box.
The ring was elegant rather than enormous.
Perfect.
He knew her.
Of course he knew her.
“Before you,” he said, “I thought love was something that made people weak.”
Norah stopped teasing.
“I thought needing another person meant giving them the power to destroy you.”
His voice became quieter.
“Then one Friday night, my assistant got drunk and accidentally told me I looked gorgeous in a suit.”
Norah covered her face.
“You are putting that in the proposal?”
“It changed my life.”
“That’s humiliating.”
“It’s history.”
“Continue.”
He smiled.
“You asked me to come get you.”
His eyes softened.
“And I did.”
Norah’s tears fell freely now.
“I didn’t know that night that you would become my best friend. My partner. My equal. The person who challenges me when I’m wrong, which is apparently often.”
“Very often.”
“Norah.”
“Sorry.”
“I didn’t know you would teach me that love doesn’t make life safer.”
Her breath caught.
“It makes life worth risking.”
That broke her.
Completely.
Julian’s own eyes were wet now.
“You’ve seen the worst parts of me. The fear. The control. The mistakes. You stayed long enough to make me become better, but you never asked me to become someone else.”
He took a shaky breath.
“I don’t promise I’ll never make another mistake.”
“That would be statistically impossible.”
“Thank you for the confidence.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I promise I’ll never stop choosing us after I make one.”
Norah covered her mouth.
“Norah Quinn.”
His voice broke slightly.
“Will you marry me?”
She looked at him.
At the man who once barely said her name.
The man who crossed Manhattan when she called.
The man who broke her heart because he was afraid.
The man who came back.
The man who had learned that protecting someone did not mean choosing for them.
The man who had built an empty home and asked her to fill it with him.
“Yes.”
Julian stopped breathing.
Norah laughed.
“Yes, Julian.”
He stood so quickly he nearly dropped the ring.
She laughed harder.
“Careful.”
“I’m fine.”
“You almost stumbled.”
“I don’t stumble.”
“You absolutely just stumbled.”
“You startled me.”
“Not the way you’re thinking?”
Julian stared at her.
Then laughed.
“You remember everything.”
“Everything.”
He put the ring on her finger.
Perfect fit.
Naturally.
Norah barely had time to admire it before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
The terrace doors suddenly opened.
Applause exploded.
Norah ripped herself away.
“What the—”
Mara ran outside screaming.
“I’M THE MAID OF HONOR!”
Leo appeared behind her holding his phone.
“I HAVE THE WHOLE THING!”
Owen walked out carrying champagne.
Adrian followed, looking deeply amused.
And behind him stood Elena.
Tentative.
Nervous.
But present.
Norah stared at Julian.
“You invited everyone?”
“They were hiding in your office.”
“For how long?”
“Forty-five minutes.”
“That is insane.”
Leo shouted, “Worth it!”
Mara grabbed Norah’s hand and screamed again when she saw the ring.
Owen gave Julian a glass of champagne.
“You finally did one intelligent thing.”
“Thank you.”
Adrian shook Julian’s hand.
Then unexpectedly pulled him into a brief hug.
Julian froze.
Only for a second.
Then hugged him back.
Norah saw Elena watching.
Julian did too.
He released Adrian and looked toward her.
There was uncertainty between them.
History they could never erase.
But Julian extended his hand.
Elena hesitated.
Then took it.
No dramatic forgiveness.
No instant perfect family.
Just a beginning.
Norah understood beginnings.
Everything important in her life seemed to start accidentally.
A wrong contact.
A drunk message.
A man answering when she never expected him to.
Hours later, after everyone left, Norah and Julian sat barefoot on their couch overlooking Manhattan.
Her head rested against his shoulder.
Their fingers were intertwined.
The ring caught the city lights.
“You know,” she said, “I was serious about keeping my last name.”
Julian looked down at her.
“I assumed.”
“Norah Quinn-Cross sounds strange.”
“Then stay Norah Quinn.”
“You don’t care?”
“I want you. Not my surname attached to you.”
She smiled.
“Emotional competence.”
“I’ve been trained aggressively.”
“Excellent.”
He kissed her temple.
They sat quietly.
Then Julian glanced toward the unnamed room.
Norah followed his gaze.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were thinking loudly.”
“I was wondering about paint.”
“For the nursery?”
“I said nothing about a nursery.”
“Julian.”
He smiled.
“Someday.”
Norah rested one hand over his.
“Someday.”
His expression softened.
No pressure.
No demand.
Just possibility.
Her phone sat on the table.
She picked it up.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending you something.”
“You’re sitting six inches away.”
“I know.”
Julian’s phone vibrated.
He read the message.
COME GET ME.
He laughed.
Then typed.
Norah’s phone vibrated.
WHERE ARE YOU?
She looked at him.
“Really?”
“Tradition.”
Norah typed.
RIGHT BESIDE YOU.
His answer came instantly.
STAY THERE.
She smiled.
Another message.
I’M COMING TO GET YOU.
Julian put down his phone, pulled her across the couch into his arms, and kissed her while she laughed against his mouth.
Years later, when people asked Norah Quinn how she had ended up marrying Julian Cross, becoming COO of Cross Global, surviving a corporate espionage scandal, gaining two complicated siblings-in-law, and building a life she had never imagined for herself, she never told them about the boardrooms first.
She never mentioned the money.
Or the penthouse.
Or the headlines.
She always started with one Friday night.
With too many drinks.
With trembling fingers.
With the wrong contact on her phone.
With three simple words she had never intended to send.
Come get me.
Because sometimes the greatest changes in a life did not begin with perfect decisions.
Sometimes they began with mistakes.
Sometimes with embarrassment.
Sometimes with choosing the wrong name on a screen and accidentally reaching exactly the person you needed.
And sometimes forever began when someone answered.
Where are you?
May you like
Then came.
And never let go.
