Her face falls. “What do you mean?”
“You live in New York. You’re Jamison’s sister, and if this ends badly, I’m going to be pushed out of their life, and Hope’s, forever.”
“Jamison isn’t like that.”
“I said things to Quinn and him when they started seeing each other I shouldn’t have. Quinn cut me off,” I admit.
The elevator doors open.
Harper hesitates then steps out. We walk in silence to my car.
When we get inside, she says, “Did it have to do with Jamie and Valeria?”
“Yes. But I didn’t even know about Valeria until after I had already been a dick. Jamison was showering Quinn with expensive gifts, and other things happened.”
“What was wrong with Jamie giving Quinn gifts?”
My stomach flips. I hate my past behavior toward Jamison and Quinn, but the shame of my parents’ relationship always makes me nauseous. I’ve never told anyone about who my father is, or how my mother is his mistress. I hold everything in, and no one gets access to my family secrets.
Maybe it’s because I know she’s leaving in a week, or perhaps it’s just because Harper is the first person I’ve ever felt comfortable talking to, but I blurt out, “Because he gives her gifts.”
“Who is he?”
My mouth goes dry. “The sperm donor.”
A line forms between her eyebrows. “Why—”
“He’s the governor, and my mother’s his mistress.” I swallow hard, and my stomach pitches. It’s the first time I’ve ever told anyone who my father is or what my mother is to him.
She gapes then quickly slides closer and clasps my hand. “That must be difficult for you.”
“It is what it is. I can’t change it. No matter how much I try, she won’t leave him.” I focus on the window.
She quietly asks, “Does his wife know?”
“Yep. His kids, too. His wife stays with him for the status and money, according to my mother. At least, that’s what Maximillion tells her. Who knows what her true reasons are, but they know about all of us.”
She turns my chin so I’m facing her. “No matter what happens between you and me, it’ll stay between us. I won’t let anything affect your relationship with your family.”
“That’s not the only thing I’m worried about, Harper.”
“What else?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t.”
My jaw twitches.
She places her hand over it. “Have I pressured you in any way?”
“What? No. Why would you ask that?”
She caresses my cheek. “You seem to have a lot of stress around us.”
My heart races. “What does us mean?”
“I don’t know. But do we have to know all the answers today?”
“I haven’t even taken you on a date, and I can’t keep my hands off you. I don’t normally disrespect women—”
“Disrespect?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing you’ve done has been disrespectful, Steven.”
“This isn’t how I do things.”
“Maybe it’s time to change how you do things.”
Since I can’t seem to shut my mouth today, I reply, “I don’t do well with uncertainty, Harper. I grew up with it, and I just... I can’t do it. It throws everything in my life off.”
She tilts her head and softly asks, “So I’m uncertainty?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” She fidgets with her fingers in her lap. “My entire life is in shambles. I don’t have a job and live in a dump. I have no clue what I’m doing with my life and can’t seem to figure it out. I’m almost at rock bottom. You’re right.”
The hairs on my neck stand up. “What do you mean you’re almost at rock bottom?”
“Nothing. Forget about my blabbing mouth.”
“Harper—”
“Please, drop it.”
I sigh. “Okay, but that wasn’t what I was implying.”
“It’s true.”
“I meant you live in New York. You’re leaving in a week.”
The car stops.
“I’m not looking to cause stress in your life. We’ll just keep it in the friend zone this week. Let’s get your things.” She opens the door and steps out, and my gut drops.
That isn’t what you want.
It’s for the best.
We go into my building and enter my condo. Harper puts on a smile, but all I feel is pain.
My quads may be paying the price from my workout, but the tugging of my heart is from my baggage and rules.
But I don’t know how to change it. And I’ll be damned if I hurt Harper in the process of trying to figure out how to undo all my issues.
7
Harper
“Lie down,” I instruct Steven and point to the bed. “I’ll get ice packs.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stop saying you’re fine,” I cry out.
His eyes widen.
“Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I leave the bedroom and go into the kitchen. My insides are shaking.
I’m uncertainty.
And I can’t disagree with that.
When I woke up this morning, I had flutters of excitement, thinking about seeing Steven today. I got ready and went out to the main room.
Jamison and Quinn had arrived home, and Jamison took me aside.
He handed me a piece of paper with six numbers on it.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s the code for my safe. Take out whatever cash you need for the week and give me your phone so I can add my Uber account. My driver will take you wherever you need to go, but if there is some crazy situation that pops up, you’ll have it.”
I went to my room and got my phone. So much shame filled me. I couldn’t tell Jamison I didn’t need his Uber account or money. I wouldn’t put Hope’s well-being in jeopardy because of my ego. But it’s a knife slicing my last bits of self-respect.
There was a time I would have argued with him about how I didn’t need any of those things. But I can’t claim that right now.
You can’t even pay for an Uber.
I’m not sure what I expected to happen between Steven and me. I don’t live by rules and structure. Well, not anymore.
I used to. When I had my career as an attorney and was the dutiful wife, I had all sorts of parameters I lived by.
All staying in the lines did was keep me married to a cheater and leave me with nothing except sadness.
But my reality isn’t Steven’s.
And he thinks he disrespected you.
What does that make me in his eyes? A slut?
We didn’t even do anything...well, he only kissed me. I had a constant need to grind against his body.
I fill the bag with ice, put it aside, then fill a second one.
And you just told him you’re hitting rock bottom. Makes you super attractive.
I carry the ice into the bedroom. Steven stands at the window, lost in the view of the city. His shoulders are tense and arms are tightly crossed. A duffle and suit bag are next to the door.