His words drifted over me like sunshine, heating my skin, ridding my brain of shadows.
I wanted him so badly it was almost terrifying. Before fear could take hold, pleasure pushed out from my belly and down my limbs. “Max,” I whispered, my fingernails digging into his skin.
“I know. I know. I know.” He knew me, understood everything.
In that moment we were joined; we were connected; we were inseparable.
Chapter 14
Max
“Good morning,” I said as I passed Donna’s desk. She looked at me suspiciously, probably because I was grinning.
“You okay?” she asked from the doorway as I shrugged off my jacket.
I looked up at her, still smiling. “I’m excellent, how are you?” Last night with Harper had been great. Sex had always been an important part of my routine, of my life, but with Harper there was a level of connection I’d never had with anyone else. Perhaps it was the reason my family continually bugged me about finding a girlfriend. Maybe they realized relationships could be this good, this easy with someone. Harper made me laugh, got me hot, and drove me crazy all within a ten-second window. I couldn’t get enough of her.
“I’m okay, thanks. A little concerned the body snatchers have taken over my boss, but hey, we’re in Manhattan, so it’s to be expected.”
“You’re too young to be so cynical, Donna,” I replied.
“Okay, now you’re really starting to freak me out. Can I get you a coffee? Maybe that will kick you back into a normal gear,” she said as her phone rang. “Be right back,” she said, then closed the door.
I sat down and spun my chair around, facing out into the city. I was about to land JD Stanley, my personal Everest. Amanda was happy and healthy. I was fucking the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on. No, we were doing more than fucking. Were we dating? I turned back to my desk. Maybe when she came up to Connecticut we should have a conversation about what we were doing. I wanted her to meet Scarlett and Violet properly—they could come over for drinks that evening, but I wanted her to myself when Amanda left for the dance. Maybe brunch the next morning would be better. I hoped Harper planned to stay over. Once I had her in my house, I knew I’d find it hard to let her leave.
I pressed the speaker button when Donna buzzed my phone. “Charles Jayne on line one.”
Puzzled, I picked up the receiver. Lunch had gone well. I had everything I needed and we were on track to nail our pitch next week. I hoped he wasn’t going to try to cancel on me.
“Max King. How can I help?”
“I want to talk to you about the presentation next week.”
Shit, he was going to cancel. I sat back in my chair. I wouldn’t let him hear I was rattled. “Yes, sir, we’re looking forward to it. Harper’s been doing some excellent work. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.”
“It’s Harper’s involvement that I want to talk to you about.”
I gripped the phone tighter. “I’m listening,” I replied, my tone a little more terse than before.
“I like to keep my work life and my personal life separate,” Charles began. That had been my policy before Harper smudged the lines between the two. I still believed it was a good policy. Harper was just someone I couldn’t resist. But Charles had employed his sons in the business, so what he was saying didn’t make much sense.
“Okay,” I replied.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Harper to work on the JD Stanley account. You understand?”
I pushed my chair away from my desk. “I’m not sure I do,” I replied.
“I don’t want anyone to think that a decision I make on King & Associates has anything to do with Harper. Business is business.”
“But I want to give you our best people and—”
“It’s entirely up to you,” he said. “I’m not forcing you to do anything. But if you’re going to pitch next week, I don’t want Harper on the team.”
Shit. I mean, I got it. And I thought I’d feel the same way. I wasn’t sure Harper would be so understanding. But he was a potential client, one I was desperate to land. “Of course, sir, it’s entirely up to you what team you want to work with.”
“I’m pleased you understand. I’m looking forward to what you have to say.”
I hung up and slumped back in my chair. Should I have said no? How would I tell Harper? I guess I could pull out? But this was the opportunity I’d been waiting for and Harper knew that. She’d understand, wouldn’t she? This wasn’t personal. It was business.
Crap. I stood and grabbed my jacket. I needed some fresh air and common sense. “I’m going to Joey’s for a coffee,” I told Donna as I headed toward the elevators.
“Everything okay?” she called after me. I couldn’t reply.
Harper would understand. In fact, she might be relieved. She could take some time, build up her confidence after the way she’d choked at Goldman’s.
But something told me she wasn’t going to think like that. This might be business to me, but it was very personal to Harper.
It was as if Charles Jayne had thrown a grenade, and I was left bracing myself for the explosion but hoping it was a dud.
Three . . . two . . . one.
“Can you get Harper?” I asked Donna through the speakerphone, wiping the screen with my thumb.
“Sure thing.”
I stood, took off my jacket, and rolled up my sleeves. Coffee and a conversation with Joey about baseball had helped me make up my mind to tell Harper she was dropped from the JD Stanley team and to do it as soon as possible. As it was a work-related matter, I should tell her at the office. Part of me wanted to take a bottle of wine over to her apartment, run a bath, and tell her when we were both a glass down. That way I could hold her if she got upset. But Harper had been clear she wanted no special treatment at work.
“Hi,” Harper said as she appeared in my doorway.
“Hi,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “Close the door and take a seat.”
She frowned and did as I asked.
I took a deep breath. “I want to talk to you about the JD Stanley account.” Her hands curled around the arm of the chair. “I’m going to make a change and get Marvin to be my second chair on the JD Stanley pitch.”
I waited for the explosion.
Her gaze fell to her lap, then came back up to meet mine. “Is this because I choked at the Goldman meeting?” she asked.
Of course that was what she’d think. This was my out. I could tell her we needed a more experienced speaker. I didn’t have to tell her what her father had said. I didn’t have to hurt her.
“How am I supposed to learn from my mistakes if you don’t give me another shot?” She leaned forward a little. “I’m ready this time. I really know the material—even your sections.”
She was ready. I could tell by the way she spoke in our morning meetings that instead of the failure at Goldman’s sapping her confidence, it had fed it.
I brought my hands together on my desk. Should I lie to her? Could I?
I liked to get what I wanted. And I wanted to do the JD Stanley pitch without Harper and have Harper okay about it. But I couldn’t be dishonest to make that happen. It wasn’t the man I was.