“So?” she asked.
“So what?” I asked, wanting her to change the subject. I turned back to the oven, taking out the lasagna the housekeeper had left. I never wanted to date my sisters’ friends. I was surprised they were still trying. My life was full to the brim.
“So will you take her out?” she asked as if I were stupid. To be fair, I was being deliberately obstructive. I just didn’t need my sisters interfering with my dating life. I was happy with things as they were.
“Looks like April may have competition,” Violet said. Scarlett shot her a look and Violet shrugged. “We’ve been talking a lot about Harper this evening. She’d definitely get Amanda’s seal of approval.”
I’d never had to concern myself with whether Amanda would like any of the women I’d been with. She’d never met any of them and that’s the way I liked it. It was simply coincidence Amanda had gotten to meet Harper.
Scarlett continued to chat on about April, which I could easily drown out. Harper was a little more difficult to bury. “April comes from a lovely family. She’s blonde, which I know you like.”
Did I like blondes? I wasn’t sure hair color was a deciding factor for me. Harper’s hair was chestnut brown, but had looked almost black in the rain. Images of her standing in the line for Serendipity flashed into my head. She’d looked gorgeous. Her cheeks pinked from running, her eyes bright blue. At one point she’d licked raindrops from her upper lip. It had only been Amanda’s presence that had stopped me from pushing her wet hair from her face, relishing her soft skin under my thumbs, and pressing my lips to hers. If it had been just the two of us, I would have dragged her back to the apartment and spent the afternoon naked and indulging myself in her instead of ice cream.
“What are you smiling about?” Violet asked me.
“I’m not smiling about anything.” I needed to shake these thoughts about Harper off. A taste of Harper was supposed to cure me. That had been my justification for fucking her the first time, the second time, and the third time. But seeing her today, relaxed, warm, and so focused on making sure Amanda was happy, had grown this buzz in my gut I had when she was around or when I thought about her. They laughed and talked together like old friends and listening to them in the changing rooms while I’d pretended to stay focused on my emails made me smile, made me feel good.
“Can I show them my dress?” Amanda asked.
“After dinner you can try it on.”
“Daddy bought me the most beautiful shoes to go with it. I’m not sure he would have, but Harper said she’d buy them if he didn’t.”
“I was always going to buy the shoes. Give me some credit. I know you can’t wear your sneakers.” Harper’s face had lit up when she’d seen the shoes. I’d wanted to ask for a pair in her size as well. Maybe I’d try to find her something similar. After all, I’d ruined her blouse.
“So I want to hear more about Harper,” Scarlett said. “How old is she? Is she pretty?”
Amanda took a spoonful of salad and stopped, thinking about the question.
“Come on, Amanda,” I said, trying to distract them away from this question. “Don’t get it all over the table.”
“My age?” Violet asked.
She nodded and dropped some salad on her plate. “I guess. Like, grown-up age. And she’s really pretty.”
They were right about that. She was very attractive.
“I’d say about twenty-five,” Scarlett said. “Gorgeous, too, and she just happens to work with Max.” I avoided Scarlett’s glances. But she was right, Harper was gorgeous. And smart. And great in bed.
“She’s one of my employees who happens to live in the building. Amanda begged her to go shopping with her. I’m sure it’s the last thing she wanted to do.”
“She enjoyed it,” Amanda said with total confidence. Because why wouldn’t a twenty-something enjoy going shopping with her boss and his kid? Harper had been exceptionally good about it. It had been nice to watch them together.
“Would she go out on a date with your dad, or is she too pretty for him?”
Amanda grinned. “Oh my God, that would be so awesome. And I know she doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
I pretended I wasn’t listening and took the salad spoons from Amanda and finished distributing the salad for everyone. Normally I’d have put an end to the conversation by now. I’d become good at deflecting around my dating life but this was slightly different. I found I liked the conversation about Harper—enjoyed Amanda’s reaction to her. And I didn’t mind them considering us as some kind of couple. Not that it would ever happen—we’d agreed it wouldn’t. It was just I didn’t mind it being a possibility in my family’s mind.
Monday I’d gotten into the office late. I’d been shopping for shoes for Harper. It had taken me too long to make the purchase, not knowing what I was doing and why. Now I was behind and grouchy and I still wasn’t decided on whether or not I’d actually give her the shoes. Next on my schedule was to follow up on the lunch invitation to Charles Jayne as Harper had suggested.
“Max, I have Margaret Hooper, Charles Jayne’s assistant, on the line for you,” Donna squawked from my speakerphone.
“Thank you.” I cleared my throat and pulled back my shoulders. Assistants had much more power than people realized, and I was sure Margaret held considerable sway with Charles Jayne.
I picked up the receiver. “Ms. Hooper, Max King of King & Associates here.” I could tell from her response, which was soft and helpful, that she was pleased I’d called her and not just asked Donna to call on my behalf. Harper had made a good suggestion. So now that Margaret was on our side, I needed to convince her to let me take Charles to lunch.
“As you know, Mr. Jayne has asked me to come in to see him on the twenty-fourth. I don’t want to waste his time.”
“You’re right, he doesn’t have much time to do anything, so how can I help?” she asked.
“I want to make the presentation as focused and helpful as possible. Now of course this benefits me because I provide Mr. Jayne with what he most needs.”
“Indeed, Mr. King,” she replied, skepticism rising in her voice.
“Please, call me Max.”
I could hear her smile across Wall Street. “Okay, Max, what is it you want?”
“I want to create a win-win situation. If I understand what it is that Mr. Jayne is looking for then our presentation won’t be a waste of anyone’s time. He’s happy. I’m happy. If I can get lunch with Mr. Jayne—”
“The problem is he doesn’t have any lunch availability between now and the twenty-fourth. His schedule books up very quickly, unfortunately.” Her tone transitioned from friendly and open to clipped and concise. I wasn’t sure if she was being honest, or if I was being given the brush-off.
“I’d be very happy to come to the JD Stanley offices and bring lunch to Mr. Jayne, if that would help?” I suggested. “Alternatively, I’ll get a table booked at La Grenouille if that would suit him.”
“I’m sorry. If it were up to me, I’d love to find space. But I’m afraid it’s not.” That sounded like a brush-off. Otherwise she’d have said she’d let me know and checked with Charles Jayne.