“Not true. Take her with you. Make it part of any offer anyone gives you. You’re in the C-suite. You can make demands.”
“There are so many more interesting places to work, Steven,” my sister claims.
“I’m boring, remember? Interesting and I don’t go together.”
Harper slaps my chest. “That’s not true, and stop staying that.”
“You’re the only person on earth who won’t agree with me.”
“I don’t think that,” Quinn adds.
“Me, either. And your skills are top-notch. Don’t let them think they have you by the balls, Steven. I’d go in there, lay down the law, and make it clear what you will and won’t do for your job. Harper, is it even legal for them to fire him over a political campaign?”
She shifts in the seat. “I don’t know. I’m not an employment attorney, and I don’t know Illinois law. But Jamison is right. You should consult a professional here.”
My phone rings, and I remove it from my pocket. I mutter, “Great.” I send it to voice mail.
“Who’s that?” Quinn asks.
“Mom.”
A text pops up. “I know you’re mad at me, but we need to talk. And I still want to see Hope.”
I reply, “Quinn’s back. Text her. Unless you’re coming clean, I have nothing to say to you.”
“I love you, Steven. Please, let’s talk today.”
“Are you going to fill me in on what I want to know?”
“What time can we talk?”
“Is that a yes or a no? I’m not dealing with your games, Mother.”
“Steven, give me a time.”
I scrub my face, frustrated.
Quinn grabs the phone from me and angrily types.
“What are you doing?”
She slides my phone across the table. “If she can’t be honest with you, then she isn’t seeing Hope.”
I read her message to my mom. “It’s Quinn, we’re home early. Pick Steven instead of the sperm donor or I’m done with you. This time, there won’t be any coming back.”
I groan. I don’t want to be responsible for Quinn and my mom not having a relationship or my mom not able to see Hope. As much as I’m mad at my mother, she’s still our mom. And the boy who’s always felt like it’s his job to watch out for and take care of her surfaces. “Quinn, don’t do that. It doesn’t have anything to do with Hope.”
“Sure it does. If she picks the sperm donor over you, she will do it to Hope.”
“Not necessarily. And she’s been dying to see her all week.”
“Then why hasn’t she?”
“She was supposed to but—” I stop, realizing what I was about to give away. I glance at Harper. “We’ve had a lot going on.”
Jamison’s eyes turn to slits. “What does that mean?”
Neither of us answer.
“Harper?” Jamison growls.
“My work has been crazy,” I quickly say. “She had a lot to deal with on her own.”
“Wouldn’t it have made sense to have Mom come over and help, then?” Quinn asks.
Crap. How do I get out of this?
Harper taps her fingers on my thigh. “I had an errand to run. Anna and Vivian watched Hope. I got lost, and a guy stole my purse.”
“Are you okay?” Quinn cries out.
“Yeah. Your friend Dawn helped me.”
“Dawn Golding?” Jamison asks.
“Yes. She let me use her phone to call Vivian.”
“If your purse was stolen, how do you still have your phone?”
“It was in her pocket,” I blurt out and put my hand over hers.
She squeezes my thigh. “We haven’t asked you how your honeymoon was.”
Quinn leans into Jamison. “It was awesome. St. Lucia is beautiful.”
“Harper, I assume you’re staying in town now?” Jamison asks.
She stiffens.
I rub my thumb on her quad. “She’s looking at opportunities here.”
“Why don’t you come work with Chase and me? I don’t understand—”
“No offense, but I have no interest in what you guys do. I’m glad you love it, but I would die of boredom.”
But going back to New York to a firm where you didn’t like working is better?
“Then tell me what kind of job you want.”
She sighs. “I don’t know. That’s the problem.”
“Well, figure it out. You have to create your opportunities.”
Harper groans. “Here we go.”
Quinn chuckles.
“What?” Jamison asks.
Harper rolls her eyes. “You’re like a broken record.”
“Why? Because I believe you have to make things happen? No one will come up to you and say, ‘hey, I know this is your passion, and I think you should work for me.’”
Quinn snaps her fingers. “Actually, they did.”
“What are you talking about?” Harper asks.
“Cindy offered you a job. You’re awesome at photography, and she’s desperate for an assistant. She’s got a lot of work lined up here, too.”
“She didn’t offer me a job. She was being nice.”
“No, she wasn’t.”
“You should call her,” I say.
Harper purses her lips and shakes her head. “I don’t want someone giving me a job because they want to do you guys a favor.”
“Who said that? I’ve never talked to Cindy about giving you a job,” Jamison says.
“I haven’t, either. You already love her and know what kind of person she is. I think you’ll have fun. Just call her. There’s nothing back in New York for you,” Quinn adds.
Thank you, dear sister.
Harper sighs.
Why is she resisting this?
Jamison takes out his phone, hits a button, and puts it to his ear.
“Who are you calling?” Harper asks.
“Hey, Cindy.”
“Jamie!” Harper reprimands.
He makes a face at her. “Are you still looking for an assistant?”
Harper puts her hands over her face.
I put my arm around her shoulders and tug her close to me. I whisper in her ear, “If you meet with her, I’ll reward you.”
She glares at me.
“What?” I innocently ask.
“Harper wants to stay in Chicago but thinks you were only offering to discuss the job because of us.”
“And it gets more embarrassing,” Harper mutters.
“Calm down. When you’re in my bed every night begging me, you’ll be happy,” I murmur.
She elbows me in the chest.
“Yes, we told her that. Can you meet this weekend?”
“Jamie,” Harper warns again.
He cockily grins at her. “Tomorrow is perfect.”
“Can you control your husband?” Harper asks Quinn.
Quinn stifles a laugh. “Sorry. You know how he is.”
“Thanks, Cindy. Tell V we said hi.” Jamison hangs up.
“You’re dead.”
“You’ll thank me when you and lover boy aren’t pining for each other across state lines.”