Page 30 of One Wrong Move

“Quite horrendous, actually.”

“So sorry,” she says again. “Does that mean you’re the one being wooed?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Usually, yes.”

“Wow. What a life you must lead,” she says. There’s teasing in her tone, and I love it. It’s so much better than the stilted awkwardness of our first meeting in London, when Dean was a shadow between us, and her eyes held distrust. “But there must be someone, no? Are you dating anyone? Tell me when I need to be out of the house.”

“Harper,” I say.

She rubs her hands together. “Because I can leave for an evening or be out of here all weekend if you need. Is there a girlfriend coming over? Or someone who spends the nights?”

Fuck.

False impressions, I think again, reminding myself that I’ve always been great at delivering. “Not this week,” I say. “Have to give them some time off.”

She chuckles. “Of course. How generous of you.”

“I try.”

Her fingers tap against the stone counter, and her lips purse in thought. “Maybe that’s how I can repay you for letting me stay here. I can be your wingwoman.”

“Harper,” I say again.

“No, no, think about it. Let me buy you dinner and a few drinks this weekend. I’m great at this.”

“Have you ever been someone’s wingwoman?”

“Yes! I was a wingwoman all the time in college. Of course, I wasn’t always successful, but I don’t think I was to blame. Except for the time I made a guy think I was into him instead of my friend, but really, I was just buttering him up by speaking about—anyway. Not important.” She gives me a bright smile. “Let’s do that. Tomorrow night, if you don’t have any plans.”

I make a mental note to cancel my attendance at the fundraising gala for the Sustainable Technologies Foundation, too.

“Sure. But I don’t need a wingwoman, Harper.”

She nods, and her smile turns a bit embarrassed. “I don’t doubt that for a bit. I’m just… trying to repay the favor. Somehow.”

Right. I nod and glance down to her hand, at the burn on her left index finger. You’re the one doing me a favor, I think.

“Throw in some freshly baked scones and we have a deal.”

She flashes me a truly beaming smile. “Okay. Awesome. Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow.”

Harper

For the second night in a row, I sleep like a princess on the giant bed. And when I’m showered and ready for the day, and walk downstairs, he’s already gone. Just like the day prior.

And just like the day prior, there’s a large spread of breakfast foods on the kitchen island.

Scones included.

I frown at the pastries. Does he do this every day? Get someone to deliver things? I’d put the leftovers in the freezer yesterday, but it was almost full. I’ll struggle to do the same today.

If I was staying longer, and if I knew him better, I’d talk to him about food waste.

It’s a beautiful day in London as I walk to my work. The sun is shining, and everywhere around me, the trees and shrubbery have started to explode with leaves. The cherry blossoms are in bloom, weighing down the branches of the trees I pass, their pink petals beautiful against the blue sky.

Try a new recipe was not a success.

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