Normally, he greeted each day with wide, open arms, eager to see new prospects and see how much further he could go. He was always a glass half-full type of personality, and there was rarely a downside to anything that he couldn't flip around on its head. But today...today seemed different. There was a weight on his shoulders, and for some reason he couldn't wave away thoughts of his impending divorce. As to why such a subject was suddenly making itself known to him, especially with such relentlessness, he couldn't fathom, and instead went through the motions of preparing himself for the day. His bathroom regimen was fairly rigorous, especially by a man's standards, but by the time he emerged he still looked like he'd rolled out of bed, though he certainly didn't smell it.
Donning black slacks and a silver pinstripe button-up shirt, he felt a little more like himself once he'd put some food in his stomach. After gathering his keys and other required paraphenalia for leaving the apartment, he was ready to go. And yet the feeling persisted, wondering if... Well, he wasn't going to encourage that particular train of thought. Whatever she was doing, she was fine. She'd always been able to take care of herself; it was something he'd deeply admired in her. There was, of course, a lot more he'd admired in her, but... Why was he doing this to himself? Julian shook his head, physically attempting to clear out the cobwebs that were threatening to engulf his mind and ruin his plans for the day. A quick ride down in the elevator put him in the lobby, and a new sight helped release him from the previously discouraging thoughts.
"Vanessa?" The woman looked a fright, and Julian would assume that she, of all people, was less than likely to show such a face to the world. Stepping forward, further into the lobby, he raised a hand in concern.