Chapter 5 Juliana

• “My mother.” His voice softened. “She was a seamstress. Small jobs. Hemming trousers, fixing zips. One day I saw her hand-stitch a gown from scratch. No pattern. Just instinct. It was… magic.”
• I smiled. “So you inherited the eye?”
• “Maybe. But not the patience,” he said, laughing. “She always said I was too stubborn to sew straight.”
• “You know,” I said, resting my chin in my hand, “if you ever get tired of anonymity, you’d make a brilliant public speaker. Your voice alone could sell fabric.”
• This was my second shot, the high witches of whoredom were dancing around my head like stubborn flies .
• He raised an eyebrow. “Trying to get me out of hiding already?”
• “Not at all,” I said, grinning. “But your story deserves to be heard. Even if it’s just on tape.”
• There was a warm silence after that. The kind that didn’t feel awkward or empty—just… easy. I caught myself staring at the faint scruff on his jaw, the way his hands moved when he talked. Elegant. Precise.
• Those hands certainly looked like they knew where they belonged, inside the warm depths of my vagina and if this man failed to catch this vibe, I dont know what I would do.
• Stop it, I warned myself. He’s Olivia’s uncle. He’s also your dream interview. Do not be that girl who falls for the ingredients and gets cooked...
• But my imagination was already ahead of me. I pictured him fucking me while standing, thrashing me against the wall upclose, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Saying something soft, just for me. His lips—
• I blinked hard, forcing my gaze away. “Sorry,” I said quickly. “Got lost in thought.”
• He tilted his head, amused. “Anything interesting?”
• “Oh, you know,” I said with forced lightness, “just how I’m going to write the most professional blog post ever without sounding like a complete fangirl.”
• “You can be honest,” he said. “That’s what makes you good.”
• I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could, my phone buzzed. A message from Olivia.
• Olivia: Did you thank me yet? Or are you too busy trying to get your next scoop from my uncle?
• I nearly choked on my tea and quickly flipped the screen over.
• “Everything okay?” Charles asked.
• “Fine. Just Olivia being… Olivia.”
• He chuckled knowingly. “She means well, even when she’s meddling.”
• “She really does,” I said. Then I added, more seriously, “She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t. If not for her, I’d probably still be writing blog posts for five followers and a dog.”
• He looked at me intently. “And now?”
• “Now?” I smiled. “Now I’m having tea with the one man I’ve dreamt of interviewing for years.”
• He seemed to weigh that for a second before saying, “It won’t be the last time.”
• I blinked. “What do you mean?”
• “I mean,” he said slowly, “if you ever want more access—for future pieces, behind-the-scenes stories, even event coverage—I trust you.”
• The weight of his words settled on me like silk. “You’re serious?”
• “Completely.”
• I stood then, needing to move, needing to process. I wandered toward nothing in particular. I need to rub my thighs together my vagina was aching and begging for his dick.
• He joined me, looking over my shoulder. “My parents. That’s Olivia’s mum there. We were close.”
• There was something tender in his voice, a softness that made him feel more human, less distant.
• “You’ve got layers to yourself,” I said.
• “So do you,” he replied.
• The clock chimed softly in the distance. I realised how much time had passed.
• “I should go,” I said reluctantly, reaching for my bag. “I’ve taken enough of your evening.”
• “You haven’t,” he said, walking me to the door. “This was… refreshing.”
• We paused at the threshold. The air was warm, scented with the salt of the bay.
• “Thank you, Charles,” I said sincerely. “For trusting me. For opening up this much.”
• “Thank you,” he said back, and there was something in his eyes again. Something I couldn’t quite name.
• I was disappointed. I wanted him eating my couchie, but there he was staring at me.
• Just when I had lost all hope for an invite, he cleared his throat and said.
• “You should come by my house some time, here is my address. We can have a proper interview then. Keep this a secret from Olivia!”
• Definitely!
• This part of the tea was forbidden, Olivia was certainly not going to sip this one.