More Than You Know by Jennifer Gracen Page A

smile. “Forget it. If you’re not careful, she’ll have you lapping at her feet in no time at all.”
    â€œJust shut up,” Dane ordered. “There’s not going to be any of that going on.”
    Charles snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”
    â€œI’m serious,” Dane insisted, an edge in his voice. “She works for me. I’m her boss now. I don’t cross those lines. Our relations will be strictly professional. End of story.”
    â€œFamous last words,” Tess murmured with a grin. Bubbles barked, seeming to agree.

Chapter Four
    Julia made her way up the two flights of steep stairs to her apartment, straining from the weight of the four bags of groceries she carried along with her pocketbook. This was one of the times she hated living on the middle floor of an old house.
    She dropped the bags with a thud in front of her door, searched her pocketbook, found her keys, and unlocked her door. After kicking the door shut behind her with her foot, she dragged the bags into the kitchen and started unpacking the items into the refrigerator and tiny closet she used as a pantry.
    She’d lived there for a decade already. It had been twelve years since she’d left Boston and moved back to Long Island. At first, she’d shared an apartment with Kelvin over in Edgewater. He’d moved to New York with her, unwilling to leave her when she was so alone and at rock bottom. Between her emotional devastation at the hands of her ex, breaking away from her unsympathetic family, and her small income, having a roommate helped her slowly get back on her feet. He worked several gigs on Long Island and in Manhattan, piecing together enough to be able to live on his earnings. She found a quiet office job and a good therapist. For two years, they lived together, until she’d healed enough for him to feel she was fine on her own. He moved to Astoria, and she moved to Blue Harbor.
    She loved Blue Harbor, with its seaside New England–type charm. A sleepy town dotted with tiny shops, restaurants, boutiques, and charming old houses, she’d dreamed of living there as a kid. Now, completely on her own, she could. Her landlords, a kind couple twenty years her senior, owned the tremendous old house and lived on the bottom floor. She rented the second floor, and another tenant lived on the top floor. She felt safe there. It was quiet, and although she was alone, there were people nearby.
    When the last of the groceries were stashed away, she washed her hands and looked around. She’d given notice at her job the day before, and in a show of petulant anger, her shortsighted boss had told her to just leave. It had been sad to say such a rushed good-bye to her coworkers, but as she’d left the gray, stifling office, she’d done so with a smile and a rush of elation. The new chapter of her life was going to be exciting. Getting paid to do what she loved most, and getting paid handsomely. But she wouldn’t be starting the job at the hotel for another two weeks. Her errands all completed, she found herself with nothing to do. It was a strange, almost unsettling feeling.
    Leaning against the small table that was shoved against the wall, she drank down a glass of water and looked to the window. It was a beautiful afternoon. Golden sunlight poured in through the gauzy white curtain, splashing on the three pots of African violets on the windowsill and bouncing off the pale yellow walls. She moved to the living room and turned on the air conditioner wedged into one of the two windows. It started to hum and she sank down onto her couch. A glance at the answering machine showed no messages. She reached for her Kindle, curled up into the cushions, and played a few rounds of Words With Friends with the random strangers she’d challenged.
    After the games were finished, she sighed. At this time tomorrow, she’d be in the city, getting a personal tour of the new hotel from its