A man around his mid-forties, dressed in a sharp corporate attire, stood behind Julian, his expression shifting between disbelief and shock. "Boss…what are you…"
He trailed off, his sharp eyes sweeping over Julian as if confirming that what he was seeing was real. His gaze travelled down from Julian's Mickey Mouse T-shirt to the plain slippers on his feet. The man's eyes narrowed in doubt.
Julian's expression hardened, clearly not appreciating the way he was being scrutinized. His posture tensed, and with a raised eyebrow, he asked, "Do I know you?"
There was something eerily familiar about the man, yet his mind was blank.
"It's me, M-Mr. Tim. You don't recognize—"
Shock was an understatement for what Mr. Tim was feeling right now. He was utterly flabbergasted.
The man before him resembled his boss, yet in a way, he was completely different. Mr. Saintclaire, the one Mr. Tim knew, would never be caught dead looking like this in public. Basic clothes, messy hair, and holding groceries? It was simply impossible.
And on top of that, Julian didn't seem to recognize him.
Mr. Tim had worked for Saintclaire Corporation for six years as the Director of Corporate Communications. He oversaw the company's public relations and communications activities and worked closely with Julian to manage the company's reputation and media relations.
There was no way Julian wouldn't remember him.
Embarrassed, Mr. Tim let out a nervous laugh. "Sorry, I mistook you for someone else. Old age." He quickly cleared his throat and walked away in haste before Julian could ask him any more questions.
After walking a considerable distance, just to be sure, Mr. Tim dialled the one person who could answer his questions.
"Mr. Warren, is the boss in?"
"No, he's on a business trip abroad with some investors. I'm handling things in his absence. Is there something you need?"
"No, just curious, since I hadn't seen him in a while." Mr. Tim ended the call, relieved. Glancing back at Julian's figure in the distance, he muttered under his breath, "Look-alikes really do exist. That was creepy."
Shaking his head, he walked away, putting the encounter behind him, and continued shopping for the brand of garlic powder his wife asked him to buy, before his break was over.
*
Alex stepped out of the store to find Julian patiently waiting for her. Still embarrassed by what she had said earlier, she avoided his gaze and simply instructed, "Let's go."
Julian rolled his eyes. "Sure," he replied.
He didn't bother mentioning the strange man who had confronted him, brushing it off as a misunderstanding. The man had claimed he thought he was someone else anyway.
With that, he and Alex headed straight home.
As they entered the apartment, they found Riley sitting on the couch, waiting for them.
Alex's eyes lit up at the sight of her friend. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to check on Julian, but you guys weren't home, so I let myself in," Riley said casually.
Julian, setting the shopping bags on the table, shot her a glance. "Check on me?"
"Your head. I wanted to see how it's healing. Sit down," Riley instructed, gesturing to the couch.
Julian wasn't fond of taking orders, but he sat down without complaint. Riley leaned over to examine his head while Alex watched with keen interest.
"Any pain? Headaches?"
"No," Julian answered simply.
After a few more questions, Riley leaned back and nodded. "He's fine."
"But why hasn't he remembered anything yet?" Alex huffed, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"It takes time," Riley replied calmly.
Alex grumbled under her breath, but both Riley and Julian ignored her complaints. While Riley busied herself asking about the things they'd bought, Julian silently took the groceries to the kitchen, intent on keeping his promise.
"I'll make lunch," he announced, tying an apron around his waist.
"Oooh."
"Wowww."
Riley and Alex cooed in unison before breaking into giggles.
"Are you sure you can cook?" Alex teased.
"How hard can it be?" Julian said confidently, pulling out the ingredients.
"In that case, we'll go and buy some drinks," Riley declared.
"Okay." Julian gave them a thumbs up from the kitchen.
Before Alex could protest, Riley grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her out of the apartment, leaving Julian to his own devices.
They walked down the block to the nearest convenience store, scanning the shelves for their preferred drinks. As they made their selections, Riley struck up a conversation.
"You and Julian seem to be getting along well," Riley noted, eyeing Alex curiously. "He hasn't tried anything, has he?"
Alex laughed, reassuring her friend. "No, he's been respectful."
"Because if he has, we can buy a baseball bat and go whack him with it right now." Riley looked completely serious, as if ready to follow through on her threat.
"We're fine," Alex assured her. "He's actually quite nice. I mean, he's cooking dinner."
"He could plan on poisoning it." Riley countered. "You never know."
"Riley." Alex nudged her friend with her elbow playfully. "Trust me, if he had tried anything, he would be dead already."
"If you trust him, then I'll trust him too." Riley sighed. "What about Chad? Are you still thinking about him?"
Alex shook her head. "I can't say I haven't. But it doesn't bother me anymore. It's his loss."
"That's my girl." Riley grinned and pulled Alex into a proud hug.
With their drinks in hand, they returned to the apartment and set everything up. Julian was still occupied in the kitchen, so they left him to it and settled in front of the TV.
Some time later, Julian emerged, SHIRTLESS, carrying a pot.
Both Riley and Alex froze, their eyes glued to his sculpted torso that glistened with sweat. They swallowed hard.
"Why are you shirtless?" Alex asked, her voice slightly panicked.
"It was hot," Julian said nonchalantly as he set the pot down. He returned to the kitchen, grabbing another pot and some plates for them.
"I think you should put on a shirt," Alex insisted.
He arched a brow. "Does my nudity bother you that much?"
"Yes."
"No," Riley countered with a grin. "You're right. It is hot." She winked playfully, only to receive a smack on the arm from Alex.
They gathered around the center table, where Julian had prepared rice and a pot of chicken soup. It didn't smell bad, and they were eager to give it a try.
Riley popped open a bottle of beer and handed it to Julian. He frowned, eyeing it warily. "What is this?"
"Beer," Riley said. "You've never had one before?"
Julian stared at the bottle as if it were a foreign object. Something about it felt unfamiliar. Deep down, he had an odd certainty—He wouldn't normally drink this.
After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged and took a sip. His brow furrowed slightly at the taste. "Cheap liquor," he muttered under his breath before glancing at Riley with a smirk. "Not bad, I guess."
Riley grinned, satisfied, and they all began serving themselves.
Alex took a bite of the rice—and immediately froze. Her face paled as she tried to process what she had just tasted. She glanced at Riley, who had also stopped mid-bite, her expression just as bewildered.
In perfect sync, they both spat out the food, wiping their lips as a mix of disgust and shock flickered across their faces.
Shocked by their reaction, Julian said, annoyed, "That's rude."
"What did you put in the rice? Sugar?" Alex demanded. The rice was too sweet to swallow.
"What else was I supposed to add? Salt?" Julian shot back.
A brief silence settled in the living room.
Alex stifled a laugh, but when Riley giggled like a schoolgirl, she couldn't hold it in. Within seconds, they were both clutching their stomachs, laughing uncontrollably.
Julian crossed his arms, watching them with a mix of irritation and confusion.
He picked up his spoon and took a bite of the rice he made and instantly frowned. It didn't taste right…at all. Finally understanding why the other two were cracking up, he groaned.
"I was supposed to add salt, wasn't I?"
"Pfft!" The two ladies continued laughing loudly, without a care in the world.
A smile slowly crawled onto Julian's face watching them.
As he listened to their laughter, something stirred inside him—a faint feeling, distant but familiar. A memory just out of reach.
He frowned.
Why did it feel like he had heard that laughter before?