Page 75 of Business or Pleasure

And with that, beneath the excitement, I felt a real peace, as if I’d finally found exactly where I belonged.

Wherever Baylen was.

Thirty-Five

Baylen

Mid-August in Seattle wasn’t like mid-August in New York City. That much was obvious from the moment Harlee and I stepped out of the airport to hail a cab. Muggy and hot, it had me longing for the much cooler – though often as wet – of my home. We were on our way, at least, stopping here for just a day before we left the States behind.

We.

I still felt like this was too good to be true. I had Harlee at my side and knew she could hold her own against my parents. The fact that she would be working for MIRI, heading up the newly created statistical analysis department at the Scotland office, would be points in her favor, of course, but I had no doubt one look at her and my mother would choke on all the things she wanted to say about Harlee’s appearance.

I didn’t care. And it wasn’t a case of me simply saying it while a small part of me still longed for their approval. I was through with that. If I had learned one thing in Seattle, it was that I needed to trust my instincts, and every part of me knew with all certainty that Harlee Sumpter was it for me.

My instincts were also why we were in New York.

After MIRI finished with their marketing plan and presented me with everything they did, I decided to do my first set of investor inquiries here in the States. That led to a conversation with Alec and then a video conference with his younger brother, Carson McCrae, a fashion designer who lived in the Big Apple. Carson asked me for a trial basis exclusivity contract where he would pay for an initial order of the bras to be produced in various sizes and styles. Once he received them, he’d make a more permanent decision.

They arrived at his place on Friday. Since Alec already offered us the use of his private plane so that Harlee would be able to take her things rather than ship them separately, he was more than willing to add a detour to New York for us to meet with Carson. Now, we were on our way to Carson’s place of business, and I was about to learn if I was right about this product.

“Carson wasn’t at Alec’s party, was he?” Harlee asked as our driver worked her way through the city traffic.

I shook my head. “None of the New York McCraes were.”

“How many are there?”

I thought for a moment before answering. “Three. Carson, Maggie, and London. Carson’s twin, Cory, lives in California somewhere.”

She frowned. “I thought the twins were Sean and Xander.”

I chuckled. “Those are the identical McCrae twins, Alec’s half-brothers. Carson and Cory are the fraternal McCraes.”

“I’m beginning to appreciate having been an only child,” Harlee said with a laugh. “Your siblings better be easier to keep track of.”

“Trust me,” I said, “most families are easier to figure out than Alec’s. I think our friend Colin asked for a diagram at some point.”

Our conversation turned to the city itself as we both took in landmarks we’d only ever seen on television before. It wasn’t the same as site-seeing would have been, but I promised myself that Harlee and I would come back one day and have a proper time of it. Maybe for our honeymoon.

Would a proposal on our way home on a private plane be romantic or far too soon?

And would we be able to celebrate while we were still in the air?

“All right, I have to know, what has you smiling like that?” Harlee asked as our car pulled up in front of a fairly non-descript building.

“Just wondering what Alec would mind us doing on his plane.” I gave Harlee the sort of smile that made her blush.

“We’re not having sex on your friend’s plane!” She clapped a hand over her mouth as she realized how loudly she’d spoken.

To the driver’s credit, she didn’t say anything but, “Have a nice day.”

“That was embarrassing,” Harlee muttered as we walked toward the entrance.

“I’m fairly certain that wasn’t even close to the worst thing someone’s said in her presence.” I considered for a moment, then added, “Or done.”

“True.” Harlee hit the buzzer by the door.

I would’ve recognized Carson McCrae anywhere, I thought when he opened the door. His hair was a burnished copper, the sort of wild curls that were impossible to tame, and his eyes were a lighter blue than Alec’s. No, what would have made me recognize him was that he looked like a carbon copy of what his father must have looked like at his age.

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