“You know we just want you to be happy,” my sister said, lowering her voice. “And from what I can remember, Harper is beautiful.” She clinked her glass against mine before taking another sip. “Amanda clearly likes her.”
I handed her a plate of food, pretending I wasn’t listening.
“Have you thought about asking her out?”
Ignoring Scarlett, I spooned pasta onto mine and Amanda’s plates, then placed the dish back in the refrigerator. My sister bugged me about getting a girlfriend almost as much as Amanda did, but why were they fixating on Harper? That was my job. When I turned back to the counter, Amanda and Scarlett were both staring at me as if waiting for me to say something.
“What?” I asked, grabbing the seat next to them and taking a forkful of food.
“Have you thought about asking Harper out on a date, Dad?” Amanda asked, as if I were the most ludicrous person she’d ever had to deal with.
I swallowed and put some salad on my plate. “What is with you two? I’ve told you, Harper works for me. What is your obsession with her?”
“I like her.” Amanda shrugged.
Scarlett grinned. “And that should be reason enough. Why don’t you take her to dinner? What could one evening hurt?”
Little did they know trying to keep time spent with Harper limited to just one evening would be impossible. Whatever boundaries I set with her got torn down and overrun. We’d never really been in Vegas. Well, I hadn’t managed it anyway. Even here, with my sister and daughter, a situation that had only ever been completely consuming, I was wondering what Harper was doing, who she was spending time with. Did she feel the same? And if she did, then what? Would she come out here to Connecticut? Meet my family?
Did I want her to?
“You think I should date, huh?” I asked. Scarlett was right; it was good that Amanda seemed to like Harper. If my daughter was open to it, maybe I should ask Harper out. Officially.
Amanda tapped on my head with her fist. “Come on, Dad, duh. I’ve only been saying this my whole life.”
“Okay,” I said.
“What does okay mean?” Amanda said.
“It means please don’t speak with your mouth full,” I said, glaring at my daughter.
She giggled and swallowed. “Sorry. But what does ‘okay’ mean?”
“It means, okay, I’ll think about asking her out.” The situation with Harper felt like a jigsaw puzzle with too many pieces. Harper working for me complicated things, and her father was the founder of JD Stanley. We also lived in the same building. I’d never really dated before—I was bound to fuck things up. There were a lot of downsides. One of Scarlett’s friends would probably be less complicated to date. There would be fewer aftershocks if it didn’t work out.
But she wouldn’t be Harper.
“You will?” Amanda squealed. “Does that mean she can come help me get ready for the dance? Can I call her now to ask?”
“I said I’d think about asking her to dinner, not employ her to do your makeup. Jeez.”
Amanda paused, which meant she was thinking, which could only be bad. “You could make her dinner, here. After I leave for the dance.”
I could. It would be nice to see Harper in Connecticut. It wasn’t the worst idea Amanda had ever had.
“I’ll think about it,” I said and Amanda squealed again.
I glanced across at Scarlett, who beamed at me. “What?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
Amanda abandoned her plate of food and headed toward the den, no doubt to find her phone. “Can I call her now? Check if she’s free? This is going to be so much fun. It will be like, the best night ever!”
“You need to lower your expectations,” I told my daughter. “And prepare yourself for the fact that she might say no.”
She paused and spun around to face me. “So what if she does? You’ve always told me that you don’t take no for an answer.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I was used to getting what I wanted. And right now, I wanted Harper.
Chapter 13
Harper
I couldn’t ever remember being so nervous. I’d rehearsed and prepared for the Goldman’s pitch and thirty minutes ago I was feeling pretty confident. But as the appointment grew closer, my heartrate had started to speed as if I were sprinting across hot coals.
“So, you’ll handle any questions about the process?” Max asked.
I nodded, picking at the hem of my skirt as we sat in the back of the cab to Midtown. I wished I’d brought some water. My throat was dry and tight. They’d have water when we arrived, wouldn’t they?
It was the questions I was most worried about. I’d been practicing my ass off for this presentation. It might be a warm-up to the JD Stanley pitch, but it was still important. There was six figures in profit to be lost if I fucked this up. That might be a drop in Wall Street’s ocean, but it seemed like a lot of money to me.
My parts of the presentation? Those I’d own. Unlike Max, who appeared to speak off the cuff, I’d written myself a script and memorized it. I’d practiced out loud at home over and over. I knew exactly when to pause, when to ask people to turn the pages in their slide deck, and when to draw emphasis. As long as I hadn’t forgotten the printouts, I’d be fine. I scrambled at my feet, reaching into my business carryall to make sure the papers were all there. They were. Just like the last thirty-six times I’d checked.
“Don’t be nervous,” Max said, smoothing down his tie. “It will be fine. The rehearsal was good.”
How would he know if this was going to be fine? Sure, he’d seen the rehearsal, but when the pressure was on, no one knew how things would turn out. I overcame nerves and pressure by being over-prepared—but I couldn’t prepare for questions, at least not all of them.
“Easy for you to say,” I replied.
“I mean it,” he said, placing his hand on my knee.
I pushed it off. The last thing I needed was to be thinking about him naked. “Sorry, I need to . . .” I wasn’t sure what I needed.
He glanced out the window. “Okay, I get it. What if I was to ask you a favor? Would that help take your mind off things?” he asked.
I didn’t respond, unsure of everything other than my script.
“Amanda wants you to help her get ready for the dance. I said I’d ask.”
That wasn’t what I’d expected at all. “In Connecticut?” I asked.
He nodded. “You don’t have to come, but I know Amanda would like you to. She suggested you and I have dinner together when she left.”
“Is she trying to set us up?” I laughed.
“I think so. She’s a big fan of yours.” Max smiled. “Runs in the family, apparently.”
I grinned. Max and I hadn’t talked about how we felt about each other, so his comment was unexpected. I wanted to reach for him, kiss him, but I didn’t. I needed to keep my head in the game.
“I’d like you to come,” he said.
I liked Amanda, but I didn’t know how I felt about her setting me and Max up on a date. “Is that weird, having your daughter set you up?”