Julian Cross was not used to failure. He was used to making people say yes — with charm, cash, or contracts.
But Eliza? Eliza wasn't a deal he could close. She was a person who could see through all the layers he'd spent years hiding behind.
And right now, she wasn't answering his calls. Or his texts. Or the handwritten note he slipped into the mailbox of her community garden, which came back with a single word written across it in red marker: "Seriously?"
Still, Julian refused to give up. So, he did what any lovesick billionaire with no clue how real people apologized would do:
He went rogue.
Attempt One: The Garden Disaster
He showed up at Eliza's next volunteer garden event — in jeans and a flannel shirt he had clearly never worn before, sleeves rolled up like he knew what compost was.
"I want to help," he said, offering a trowel like it was a peace treaty.
Eliza looked at him like he'd brought a bouquet of plastic. "You're wearing white sneakers."
Julian knelt anyway. Within ten minutes, he had stepped in a wheelbarrow, tripped over a hose, and accidentally dug up a sprinkler system.
Eliza didn't yell. She just sighed and handed him a trash bag.
Attempt Two: The Bake Sale Fiasco
Julian tried again. This time: fundraising.
He offered to help run a bake sale for the garden. The only problem? He didn't bake.
He ordered artisan croissants from a Michelin-starred chef. Wrapped them in rustic brown paper. Tried to pass them off as homemade.
When Eliza saw the gold foil stickers on the boxes, she narrowed her eyes. "Did your 'consulting firm' make these?"
Julian winced. "Technically, yes."
She crossed her arms. "You're banned from pastries until further notice."
Attempt Three: Getting Real
Finally, Julian did what scared him most.
He showed up without gifts. No plans. No backup. Just… himself.
He waited outside the community center where Eliza worked. Sat on the steps with a cardboard sign that read:
"I miss you. Not as a billionaire. As a fool who fell in love."
She walked past him once. Twice.
Then stopped. Looked down. And sighed.
"You're ridiculous," she said.
"I know."
"And dramatic."
"Also true."
She sat beside him, very slowly. "Why didn't you just tell me?"
Julian looked at her, tired but hopeful. "Because I haven't been myself in years. And with you, I finally was. I just didn't want the truth to ruin that."
For the first time in weeks, she didn't look angry. Just quiet.
She didn't say anything else.
But she didn't leave, either.
And for Julian, that was the first real win.