Seeing Julia by Katherine Owen

money.
    “Are you all right? Are we talking about New Year’s or something else?”
    “I’m fine.”
    Our conversation stalls, while she chats up the toll guy, an earnest twenty-something-year-old with amazing brown eyes and an instant attraction for my little PR queen. Lively banter about the weather, the traffic, and the long lines ensues between them.
    I roll my eyes and look out the window and try to hide my irritation. It’s so like Kimberley to avoid any deep conversation if it has anything to do with her, while we can, essentially, dissect my life at every turn. Now, she lasers in on lining up another admirer for future reference. God knows we’ve been preoccupied with my life, but sometimes the way she treats the men who actually might care for her upsets me. She takes his card and gives him one of hers.
    “What’s going on?” I ask in irritation when she pulls the car forward with one last-minute seductive look at her newfound friend and drives on to the bridge. “God, if Gregoire saw the way you looked at that guy or my psychiatrist earlier today, you would be in a world of hurt.”
    “I’m not married,” she says softly.
    Her eyes narrow and she gives me the famous Kimberley-knows-best look. But does she? I can feel her spinning out of control right here in the car.
    “The Paris office is doing well. I’m putting Frederic Dupont in charge. I’m moving back to Manhattan.” She sounds resolute as she outlines her future plans, but I’m not so convinced.
    “Are you doing this because you think you should or because you want to?” I ask. “I thought you really liked Gregoire. It’s been more than six months. You met him two years ago.”
    “It wasn’t so serious then. We were just having fun.” Kimberley sighs and then takes a deep breath and shakes her head back and forth. “He’s late to everything. It drives me crazy. But, he just laughs when I call him out on it.” Kimberley runs her life with a stop watch, so I’m somewhat amused, when she says this. “Then, he has this obsession for white chocolate. Just like you.” She looks flustered now. “He’s got me liking it, too.” She moans at this admission.
    “White chocolate isn’t the end of the world, Kimmy.”
    She shakes her head and gets this bewildered look. “He knows everything there is to know about wine and food in general. And, he orders for me and you know how I hate guys that do that.” I nod, knowing this is true. “I let it go at first because I thought it was some kind of suave French seduction thing. And, it was working.” She gets this secretive look of delight, and then it fades. “But about a month ago, we’re at Daniel and he orders everything, as usual.” She rolls her eyes. “And, I realize I couldn‘t make up my mind about what to eat, even if I wanted to. What is that? And, he always chooses something different that I end up really liking. God, it’s weird.” She grips the steering wheel with one hand. “He’s so … linear.” She moves her free hand across the horizon. “And you know how I’m up and down, up and down. “She makes a zigzag motion. “He’s just so steady like a burning candle lighting the way. The complete opposite of me.”
    “Magical like you, but in a different way,” I say. She gives me this withering glance.
    “You’re supposed to be helping me out here. Talk some sense into me. This cannot happen.”
    “You can’t control who you fall in love with,” I say. Dr. Stevenson would be so proud to know, I can, at least, recite his lessons.
    “Love.” Kimberley scoffs and makes a dismissive motion with her hand.
    I’m momentarily lost in the revelations with Dr. Stevenson from earlier about the powers of attraction and needs and wants and make this inevitable leap to thoughts of Jake Winston. I shake my head to chase them away.
    Kimberley glances sideways at me seeing this. “What?”
    “Maybe you’re in love.”
    “I am absolutely not in love.” She glares at