Juliette

By Anita Claire

Meet Juliette Cole, she’s just arrived back to Silicon Valley after three heartbreaking months following her grad school love to London. Moving in with childhood friend turned blond bombshell, she gets introduced to Cassie’s crazy over the top lifestyle. Taking a job at a Silicon Valley startup, she learns that work is more than hoodies and free gourmet food. Thankfully she has The Princesses, her close group of girlfriends from college, who all went as princesses to a Halloween party their freshman year.

They don’t call San Jose- Man Jose for nothing. Juliette’s heart is not lonely for long. Swimming before work, she sees a guy with the most amazing six pack get out of the pool. Now she has a new quest – to meet him. While playing soccer, she gets knocked out by an opposing player. The player’s hot doctor brother helps her to the sidelines, then starts texting her. As things start heating up in Juliette’s personal life, she now has two guys vying for her attention. Who will it be, sexy swimmer Zach or hot Dr. Nate?

Author Motivation:
When I sat down to write my series I created characters I liked. I wanted the women to be smart, have their heads on strait, be part of a group of supportive friends, and have a positive relationship with their family. I wanted the guys to be the men you really want to meet -- good guys, who work hard, and treat women with respect.

For Juliette, I depart from the typical romance plot where the two main characters are absorbed with each other and have a misunderstanding during the mid point lull. Instead I take you through Juliette's day. Juliette works as an engineer at a Silicon Valley start-up and is busy with her strong group of friends. Initially I alternate chapters with four distinct threads - work, roommate, friends, and men. When Juliette chooses her man, the book becomes a more traditional romance novel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anita Claire
• Release date: Sep 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310298394

Anita Claire

Anita Claire is an author of contemporary romance novels. Her books explore women who hold non-traditional jobs and the situations they encounter. She writes about smart, hard-working women and the men they fall in love with.

Book preview

Book 1

Juliette

By

Anita Claire

Juliette

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

Editing by Lisa Cerasoli

Cover design by Robin Ludwig Design Inc., http://www.gobookcoverdesign.com/

Text copyright © Anita Claire 2014; version 2 update in 2018; All rights reserved

Other Books by Anita Claire

Books in The Reunion series

Three contemporary romances stories that take place at a twenty-year high school reunion

Noah and Kate

Quinn and Abby

Liam and Harper

Books in A Silicon Valley Prince series

Three contemporary romance stories about adults in their 30’s.

The Story of Jax and Payton

The Story of Brody and Ana

The Story of Flint and Lexi

Books in The Princess of Silicon Valley series

A collection of eight, coming of age, romance stories.

Book 1 – Juliette

Book 2 – Nate

Book 3 – Hita

Book 4 – Jennifer and Rocket

Book 5 – Isabelle

Book 6 – Kelly

Book 7 – Olivia

Book 8 – Meredith and Sam

Chapter 1 – Swimming

I stand on the pool deck watching everyone swim fast. Abs Guy stops at the end of his lane. He looks up at me, giving me a panty-wetting smile as he plants his hands on the end of the pool. In one quick pull-up, he’s out of the water. His body glows; he breathes hard from his recent exertion and his muscles rip along his chest and stomach. He strolls across the deck, stopping inches from me. He raises his hand and runs the back of his finger along my cheek.

You want me, he growls in his low, deep voice.

I look into his eyes, surprised. How does he know?

I can tell. I saw you watching me.

The pads of his fingers glide along my jaw and down my neck. The heat of his body radiates from him. He smells like chlorine with a light male musk scent I equate with sex. His eyes move down to my mouth.

Yeah, you are so into this, he purrs.

As he stares at my mouth, I run my fingertips down the flat hard planes of his chest, then through the soft wet waves of his hair. I lean in and lick the water droplets off his chest.

He moves in closer and licks my lower lip. I gasp, then shudder as our tongues touch. Sparks erupt along my jaw and neck.

My fingers glide down his chest, feeling the planes and the ridges of his muscles. He pulls me closer; his mouth engulfs mine as the pace of our kiss increases. It feels like he’s consuming me as I quake in response. A high-pitched and breathy sound escapes from my lips.

I want you so bad, he whispers into my mouth.

He leans in and licks my ear, then blows gently, which sends its own cavalcade of sensations.

I want you now, he urges.

My breath is hard and unsteady as I feel someone tap me on the shoulder.

Juliette, you can’t be doing this on the pool deck, an authoritarian voice demands.

I gasp and push away from Abs Guy.

We can’t be doing this here.

He laughs, turns around, and jumps back into the water.

What the hell? I gasp as I find myself suddenly and fully awake. I look around the gray light of my room. Wow, that was so…vivid…and…erotic. I curl back under my blankets, though my face feels hot. Did I really dream that up? I saw that guy walking across the deck at swim practice. Then again I’m glad that my dream was about Abs Guy and not about Stephen, my ex.

***

Once swimming, I no longer mind waking up early, since the water feels so good. I flip-turn into another long, lean glide that stretches every vertebra and ligament in my body. Coming up for a breath, the sound of water in my ear provides a zen-like background to help relax all the thoughts spiraling through my mind. After finishing grad school this spring, I had a disastrous summer following my boyfriend to London. It’s nice to be back and move on with my life. The last month has been a whirlwind as I settle into a new job, while simultaneously moving in with a childhood friend, and reconnecting with my close group from college.

On my next lap, I reach up and grab a kick board. On my way back, I casually look up at the deck as I start to order and prioritize my day. Our masters swim coach is giving the fast guys the next set. With one fluid movement, a big guy pulls himself out of the pool and walks to the tall bin where we keep the pull buoys and paddles.

It’s Abs Guy.

My face feels hot.

My chest constricts.

Did I really dream about him last night? He’s definitely in his twenties, long and lean, with slim hips and wide well-toned shoulders, defined chest, and muscled neck. Oblivious to me watching, he leans in to grab a couple pull buoys; his abs ripple. He turns, then throws the buoys to the other guys in the lane. He smiles, which lights up a dimple, and reaches back in to grab a few more.

I’m mesmerized by those abs. That body. I can barely breathe from the sight of him. I watch as he jumps back into the pool. My mind has completely lost focus. Who is Abs Guy? C’mon Juliette, stay focused! You’re here for fitness! Who am I kidding? I am so here to look at men like him.

All other thoughts leave my mind. The dream I had last night plays front and center. How am I’m going to meet him? Does he have a girlfriend? Is he as interesting as he is beautiful? At the end of the workout, I do another kick set so I have the opportunity to watch Abs Guy walk across the pool deck. Oh man, swimming has to be the best sport and Speedos are the best uniform. His beautiful body is seared into my brain.

Chapter 2 – Work

After swimming, I head into work. I’m an engineer at a Silicon Valley software startup. With a bachelors and masters in engineering, a job like mine is what’s expected. One of the perks at my company is a free cafeteria that looks trendy, like a hip restaurant.

Starting my day, I head directly there. All the men I know view free food as a godsend though I don’t want to gain the Google 15. It’s not that the guys don’t put on the weight; it’s that they don’t seem to care and then again there’s that old double standard, fifteen extra pounds on a guy and they can still get laid.

Getting in early is great since most of the people on my team pull in at around ten or eleven, giving me three to four hours of privacy. My company has this crazy idea that an open environment facilitates communication and team building. This idea had to be dreamed up by some executive with a big office, and a door that closes.

The floor I work on is broken up into large areas that house about twenty engineers in an open environment. A wall of conference rooms—rooms with copiers and cold drink dispensers, or offices where the managers sit, separate each section. In truth, an open office is really distracting, since I overhear and see everything that’s going on. I find having people look over my shoulder when I work, disconcerting.

By 10:00 a.m., the office is starting to fill up. Passing by my co-worker Ian on the way back from my morning stretch break, I shiver, and not in a good way. Ian is a mathematician that works on my team. He’s viewed by the other guys as some kind of genius. He’s also about sixty pounds overweight and is pasty white with lots of thick red hair all over his body. I know this because he always wears a white wife beater tank top and running shorts. Everyday. To work. I’m hoping with winter coming, he puts on more clothes since he’s the physical equivalent of too much information.

Trying to avoid looking and thinking about Ian causes a smile to cross my face. I flashback to Abs Guy. Now, spending my day looking at Abs Guy wearing a wife beater doesn’t sound half bad.

Juliette, stay focused. That’s not what successful engineers think about. My mom raised me to be serious, a leader, not some giddy girl who wastes her time daydreaming about scantily clad men. Damn, it’s much more fun thinking about beautiful men.

My mind is jarred back to reality as I walk to my chair, when Buddy, a fellow engineer’s German Shepherd, comes bounding up sticking her nose in my crotch, which is really annoying. Now that the office is filling up, I put earbuds in.

I work in an engineering group that uses algorithms to develop analytical tools for making sense of big data. It’s what the world calls Artificial Intelligence. My job is to exercise new algorithms; I provide Mark, the guy with the dog, my findings. He works with Ian, the hairy guy, to fine-tune these algorithms so they work more effectively.

When I told my roommate Cassie what I did, she rolled her eyes halfway through the explanation. That’s the most boring thing I’ve ever heard. I think you need to get laid. Cassie may not be a rocket scientist, but on the sex front, she’s very perceptive.

At 11:50, I get an internal IM from Hita—the only other woman on my team: Ready for lunch?

Hita and I have been friends since our freshman year of college. We were in the same classes and quickly became study partners. Back in the spring, she got me an interview for this job; lucky for me the position was still open when I decided to leave my boyfriend in London.

Hita’s American, but her parents came from India. She’s tall, about five foot ten, with long runner’s legs, thick, shiny hair that goes down to the middle of her back, and has an easy-going, happy personality with a quirky sense of humor that can get her in trouble.

There’s the most beautiful guy at swimming. I saw him again this morning, I announce as we walk towards the cafeteria.

Juliette, you’ve just moved back and you’ve already eyed your next man.

How long do I need to be back before I can start checking out guys?

True; you are back to being single.

What about you? Any men you’re interested in?

My love life consists of dodging my mother’s meddling Indian matchmaking while finding nothing better on my own. The dating scene is totally depressing. I spend way too much of my time at work.

Ian is single, I joke.

You remember in college when we wondered who would hire all those creepy guys.

Don’t tell me they’re all working here.

Not all of them. I think they’re spread across the valley. Like some disgusting fungus.

It’s the side of Silicon Valley that never gets covered in any of the glossy magazines.

We part to get our food. When we meet up in the company dining room, I can’t help but think that it reminds me of high school; everyone is here. You have your bro-grammers, those ex-jock, and fraternity guy code-monkeys who are known for their cocky attitude, being bad at math and sleeping around a lot, a feat made possible by their six-figure salaries. Then you have the artist and psychology majors turned programmer types. They work on people's cognitive interaction with technology, write code, smoke a TON of weed, and make art on weekends. They tend to live in social collectives and are a big reason communal living is making a resurgence in San Francisco. Both of those archetypes are the ones who go to hackathons and play video games for hours on end. Probably most annoying is that they get to take advantage of that unfair and dumb double standard that allows them to be both nerdy and cool at the same time, while women are not. 

Harder to pick out from just looking at them are the engineers and the physicists. The engineers are simple guys who like to solve problems and excel in higher math. My mom always jokes that they make terrible boyfriends since they’re devoid of comprehending romance, but make fantastic husbands since they’re practical, handy and helpful. The physicists, on the other hand, usually can’t do anything around the house and also seem to be arrogant pricks. At companies like mine, we also have mathematicians. They tend to be weirdos; think the UniBomber or Hairy Ian. We also have a gaggle of the H-1B visa carrying guys, mostly from India and China. They tend to hang out together, wear ugly polyester shirts and slacks and have a habit of giggling and nervously ogling when a woman is near.

Tell me about this guy you spotted at swimming, Hita inquires as soon as I place my tray on the table.

Now Abs Guy is worth talking about...

Abs Guy, that’s a descriptive nickname.

It’s fitting and it’s not like he had his name written on the back of his speedo.

Besides the six-pack, what does he look like?

He got out of the pool with one big push up, every muscle in his body flexed. I swoon as I replay the scene in my mind.

And?

And, his body’s so buff. When he reached into the bin to get out a pull buoy, the muscles of his stomach rippled.

You don’t remember what his face looks like, do you?

Um… I say as I start cracking up, of course I do. He has dark hair and a nice dimple.

You sound like you need some, bad.

You have no idea.

I take it, London wasn’t as wonderful and romantic as you had hoped for?

Yeah, California Stephen, the one from grad school, was very different from London Stephen.

Different how?

In London, he always wanted to go to the pub and hang out with his boarding school buddies. He was caught up in what his friends and family thought. I was fine in California—we were fine in California. In London, I didn’t fit in, we didn’t make sense. None of the women in his group liked me. I was completely ignored by his guy friends. His family was polite but I could tell they didn’t approve of me.

Oh no. Was it like when the daughter in Downton Abbey married the limo driver?

I hope it wasn’t that bad. The thing is, once I showed up, he never attempted to support me or help me fit in. Our relationship felt like a mistake. We stopped doing fun things, he was always too busy, and whenever I attempted to talk to him, it usually turned into an argument. Every day there were several little things that didn’t work. I still don’t get it Hita. He begged me to move to London. Once I was there, he acted like he didn’t want me around. Even when we were alone, it didn’t work. I moved for Stephen. When that didn’t work out, and my visa was up for renewal, I didn’t see any point in staying.

You seem cool with it.

If ‘cool with it’ means not being heartbroken, I spent three months watching our relationship die. Yeah, I guess I’m now ‘cool with it.’ My summer consisted of standing around with a fake smile on my face, feeling awkward as everyone ignored me.

Do you think he was too polite to break up with you? You know the British; they’re so polite.

I think their accent sounds polite to the American ear. Frankly, I found them to be much more direct than Californians.

We were roommates the first year you dated him. He did have impeccable manners— Juliette darling, she mugs with a perfect imitation of Stephen’s posh London accent. Would you mind terribly if I came? It’s been five minutes; I wouldn’t want to miss the polo match.

Come on, he never watched polo.

We all thought you were having this romantic summer in London. You never said anything.

It’s over. I’m back. I’m lucky that three months later the position I applied for was still open and they still wanted me. While my insides twist remembering how disappointed I was when I told Stephen I might not renew my visa and his reaction was, relieved.

Analytics is where it’s at; engineers get a lot of job offers.

True, the only thing I really lost out on was my summer. The weather sucks over there. Next time I follow a guy to another country, he’ll be an Australian.

I hear they love going down, under.

Ew! Hita, a pun; really?

Chapter 3 –Friends

I’m jarred awake by Cassie’s fancy new speaker system. Ugh. My roommate was out partying and brought some guy home. My eyes are closed, but I’m awake in bed. My older sister, Leigh, warned me not to move in with Cassie. She said Cassie would make a terrible roommate since right after a divorce many women go through a promiscuous, wild period. My sister can never say anything nice, so I disregarded her advice. Now I’m regretting that decision since I really need my sleep. It’s 2:17 a.m. I don’t want to be dragging tomorrow. Should I go into the living room and ask her to turn the music down? The low rumble of a man’s voice—alongside her higher-pitched laughing—reverberates through the walls into my room.

Not wanting to go out there since I look a mess in my oversized T-shirt and pajama pants—not to mention the bedhead I’m sporting—I close my eyes as I contemplate my next move. Our neighbor, Charlie, will complain; that way I don’t have to be the shrew. Maybe I could fall back asleep with all the noise. Not having to wonder for long, I hear heavy banging on our front door.

It’s two o’clock in the morning, turn that thing down! Charlie yells.

Even though I’m not able to make out the words, I know my roommate’s grumbling, but the music stops. One less conflict for me to deal with, Phew. The party moves from the living room to her bedroom, which is right next to mine. I spoke too soon. Ugh, do I really need to hear them having sex? All I want to do is sleep.

All too soon, my alarm rings. It’s time to get dressed and moving. I head into the bathroom. While leaning over the sink to spit out my toothpaste, the door opens. Turning my head, I get an eyeful of a naked man—as in full frontal nudity. Yes—a cock shot.

Oh, sorry, a gravelly voice murmurs as he closes the door.

For about a minute, I’m paralyzed. That was a rather shocking wake-me-up visual. Cassie has the master bedroom, so I never remember to lock my bathroom door. I have a feeling living with Cassie will be an enlightening experience.

***

Working out is my passion. One of my friends from college is a professional athlete. If my talent was equal to my desire, I too would get to spend my day exercising. My talent is math, which hopefully will give me a good career. I get to live out my athletic fantasies before and after work.

Leaving work early, I head to the soccer fields where I lace up my cleats and look around for my college roommate, Isabelle. I spot her dribbling the ball up and down the field. Isabelle’s dad is white and her mom is Chinese. She’s a combination of the two, with her brown hair streaked with natural gold highlights and light brown eyes. At barely five feet tall and weighing maybe one hundred pounds, she surprises our opponents with her speed and her tenacity.

Do I get to hear about Abs Guy? is her greeting.

Hita?

I like the name, Abs Guy. Anyway, what else do we talk about?

Jobs, clothes, parents, vacations, I list off.

What fun things do we talk about?

Guys, sex…sex, guys, yeah, I get your point.

So? Isabelle’s tone is now impatient.

So, what?

So, what’s next on your agenda for Abs Guy?

I’m hoping he shows up at workout tomorrow. The challenge is to learn his name and to make sure he’s on the eligible player's list.

Finding out his name is the first step. Don’t forget to flirt. You need to make sure he knows you’re interested.

***

When I get home, I find Cassie watching reality TV. She doesn’t look at me, she continues to watch.

I almost made it on this show, Cassie comments.

This doesn’t surprise me. Cassie is physically beautiful. She’s tall and slim, with a flawless curvy figure, shoulder-length straight, shiny blond hair, and big aqua-blue eyes. She spent the last six years in LA, where she modeled bathing suits and worked in a high-end boutique. She told me that supermodels make a lot of money, but everyone else doesn’t. The competition for jobs is brutal. You spend most of your time going on interviews and callbacks.

Cassie has been in several catalogs. Her big break was when she was featured in a nationwide beer advertisement that included a very popular poster. Still in college when the ad was launched, it always freaked me out to walk into a bar or go into a guy’s room and see the poster featuring Cassie in a bikini. Rejection and lack of perseverance were Cassie’s Achilles’ heel. If she were tougher, she could have made it into the top leagues of modeling.

While in LA, Cassie ran with the fast and beautiful crowd. She married a handsome LA guy with a large trust fund. Not surprisingly, he was a big-time player. The only time I met him was at their wedding. Once, when he was out of town, I went down for the weekend and stayed with her. They had a huge modern house in the best neighborhood in the hills that overlooked LA, with a fancy swimming pool and every amenity possible. When they divorced, she took some furniture and got to keep her car, clothes, and jewelry. Since he didn’t have a job—and trust funds aren’t part of community property in a divorce—she didn’t get much cash. The court ordered her ex to pay her a small monthly allowance for two years. That’s what she’s currently living on. The divorce soured her on LA. I don’t know the details of what went down, but I’m assuming they weren’t pretty. Her parents convinced her to move back up to the Bay Area and live in her grandmother’s condo. I’m not sure she had any other choice.

Curious as to why she’s home and who last night’s guy was, I sit down on the sofa and put my feet up on the ottoman.

Not going out tonight? I ask.

Last night’s guy has been blowing up my phone.

And…you don’t want to see him again?

I met him last night, he was hot, we hooked up. I might be easy, but I’m not stupid. I don’t chase. He needs to have a little angst. If he’s still blowing up my phone tomorrow, I might respond to one of his texts.

When it comes to academics, I blow Cassie out of the water, but when it comes to guys, Cassie is a savant. She always knows how to play a situation. Too bad she never focused on school; she is so cool and calculated she could have been a masterful negotiator.

How did you meet this guy?

"At a thing."

"What’s a thing?"

You know, a private event.

You mean one of those expensive fundraising events where they charge tens of thousands of dollars to attend?

How would I know? I consider them two-fers. I’m paid to model and I get to meet rich guys. If I’m lucky. maybe a hot, professional athlete.

Living in Silicon Valley my entire life, I have never been invited to a thing with rich guys and hot athletes. The only things I get invited to are tech talks where the guys all wear logo T-shirts and the sponsors provide caffeinated beverages and pizza. Afterward, they memorialize the event with a free T-shirt that advertises the technology they were talking about. Cassie’s back one month and she’s paid to attend a private event with rich guys and athletes. Knowing Cassie, she took her time and chose the pick of the litter.

How did you know if a guy’s an athlete? He could be someone’s bodyguard.

Cassie picks up her iPhone and waves it at me. Why do you think they invented Google?

***

Have you learned Abs Guy’s name yet? Hita asks as we sit down for lunch.

Maybe tomorrow at the pool.

"I’ll buy