Home > The Allure of Julian Lefray (The Allure #1)(9)

The Allure of Julian Lefray (The Allure #1)(9)
Author: R.S. Grey

Before closing down my computer for the night, I opened a new email window and started typing away before common sense set in.

Subject: Interview Request from Julian Lefray

Chapter Six


I woke up bright and early the morning after the gala, ready with a full cup of coffee and chock-full of false optimism. I was planning on checking my emails, finding my most businesslike outfit, and then waltzing down to Lorena’s office for an interview. The fact that I had no clue where her offices were seemed like a negligible detail.

Unfortunately, my go-get-em attitude wasn’t needed. The first email, sitting right at the very top of my neglected inbox, was from Mr. Fuck-Me himself. Er, I mean, Julian Lefray. It had been sent at 1:14 AM, which immediately made me wonder if he’d been up late thinking of me, but I knew better. Nope. No. Don’t go there. You need a job and he’s looking for a new assistant. Nothing more, nothing less. Ignore the tall, dark, and handsome vibe. Book boyfriends exist for a reason.

Julian needed an assistant, and while being organized wasn’t exactly my forte, I needed this job badly enough to pretend it was. One look at the mountain of bills sitting on my kitchen-turned-bathroom counter drove that point home.

I immediately replied to his email with my availability, and then dragged my laptop right back to bed to type up my next blog post.

What Jo Wore

Post #1250: Job Interview Attire (Or how I pretend to be much more professional than I actually am…)

Comments: 55 Likes: 513

Tomorrow I have a super important job interview. I know, YIKES. Send some positive vibes my way!

You guys are always asking me to do posts about workday attire, so I thought I would share three of my favorite interview outfits with you all. Most of the items are thrifted or from a few seasons ago, but I’ve linked to the few items you can still find around the web.

Also, disclaimer: I snapped these photos using a timer on my camera so please excuse the poor composition. I’ve yet to find someone to help me with photographs in New York. I used to bribe my best friend Lily to take my photos back in Texas. Let’s hope for y’all’s sake I find someone soon! For now, just squint and pretend these are awesome photos!

Until tomorrow,


The day of my interview, I woke up extra early and slipped into a pair of fitted navy slacks and a cream long-sleeved blouse. The day before, I’d researched Lorena’s company while watching a marathon of murder mystery shows. Sure, I was now highly paranoid about getting kidnapped, but at least I felt prepared for my interview.

Julian wanted me to meet him at Blacksmith Coffee at 9:00 AM, sharp. Once again, I tried not to read too much into his choice of venue. Late night emails, coffee shop interviews…sure, most interviews were conducted in a boardroom with stuffy, boring businessmen, but maybe Julian liked to stretch his legs.

I was nearing the coffee shop, giving myself an internal pep talk, when my phone buzzed in my hand.

Lily: Good luck with your coffee date. Oh, I’m sorry, “interview”. ;)

Josephine: STOP. Seriously. There is no hanky panky happening. I’m a professional career woman.

Lily: I looked him up last night per your email… Y’know, maybe you should have mentioned the fact that he is a 10/10 on “Josephine’s hot guy scale”?

Was he?

Josephine: I hadn’t noticed.

Lily: I’m so calling bullshit on that.

Josephine: Lalalala. Can’t hear you over the sound of my future calling. Oh, and it’s Vogue. I better take it.

Lily: You are so lame.

I pocketed my phone, pushed my shoulders back, and held my head high as I pulled open the door to the coffee shop. I couldn’t let Lily get into my head. I needed to get into business mode. I am Josephine, hear me roar.

The scent of roasting coffee overwhelmed me as I stepped into the shop. It was a small, intimate space. One wall had been left with exposed red brick and another was covered in shiplap wood. Mercury glass chandeliers hung overhead and two antique green velvet couches sat at the front of the shop for people to sit and wait for their coffee.

I kept walking, past the start of the coffee line, scanning the room for Julian. There was a small, secluded room in the back and when I stepped past the central brick archway, I spotted Julian at a table against the wall. My stomach dipped at the sight of him. He was dressed down compared to the tuxedo he’d worn for the gala, sporting a crisp white shirt, sans tie. The top button was undone and he’d rolled the sleeves to his elbows. He adjusted on his chair and reached down to smooth the thigh of his charcoal gray pants. I studied his hand and its placement on his thigh before he glanced up at the girl in front of me who was bee-lining for his table.

She giggled as she sat, saying something annoyingly cute, I’m sure. I was fifteen minutes early for our scheduled appointment and it appeared he wasn’t yet done with the interview before mine.

Why did that bother me so much?

I turned to move away, feeling like a weird voyeur just standing there and watching them, when Julian held up his hand.

“Just give us ten more minutes, Josephine,” he said with an apologetic smile.

Oh god, he saw me standing here.

I forced a polite nod and moved to join the coffee line. The entire time I waited for my vanilla latte I wondered just how much Julian could get away with when he used that apologetic smile of his. Those deep-set dimples. The genuine look in his hazel eyes. The man probably hadn’t heard the word “no” since he was five years old.

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