I Made His Wife’s Dress Now I’ll Marry Another Chapter 41
By the time we finished, it was past noon.
Paolo looked toward Julien, who had sat slightly apart the whole time. “From the moment you walked in, you’ve moved her chair, handed her water, and found her lawyer—and not once have you answered for her.”
“She doesn’t need me to,” Julien said.
“Then why are you still here?”
“In case she needs a ride.”
Paolo snorted. “The great negotiator of the Moreau family—reduced to a chauffeur?”
Julien didn’t bother to defend himself.
Paolo turned to me. “That man looks at you the way a tailor looks at a beautiful piece of cloth he’s afraid to cut. Too much thinking. Too little doing.”
Julien coughed—a rare, genuine loss of composure.
For the first time, I saw the tips of his ears turn red.
Back at the car, Julien opened the trunk for me but didn’t open my door.
“You don’t have to take Paolo seriously,” he said, his voice a little stiff.
“Which part? That you think too much, or that you do too little?”
He was silent for two seconds. “I’m willing to reserve judgment on both.”