Page 50 of After the Fall

“How about that one?” Harper said, plucking a set of keys from the box.

“Which one?” I asked.

Harper pushed the button on the key fob and the Lamborghini’s taillights flickered. She tossed me the keys. “That one.”

I’d thought that she would’ve chosen the Bronco, or one of the Range Rovers – something that was capable of off-roading. Harper loved going into the forest, and the clearance on theLambo wasn’t exactly cut out for the speed bumps on my street, let alone a dirt road.

“I want you to take me to lunch. Now, how the hell do you open this thing?” Harper was already at the passenger side.

“Hold on, let me get that for you.” I opened the scissor door and held onto Harper’s hand as she contorted her body to get into the sports car.

After sliding into the driver’s seat, I opened the garage. The engine of the Lamborghini growled and rumbled to life.

“Where would you like to go for lunch?” I asked.

Harper turned to me, crossing her legs at her ankles. “Salder’s Kitchen.”

My forehead crinkled as I stared at the girl in the passenger seat. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Harper?” Salder’s Kitchen was the newest and trendiest restaurant in the city’s culinary scene. Harper liked picnics in the forest and cooking together at home. She’d never shown any interest in flitting around Seattle’s social scene.

She smiled. “Your Harper heard that they make a mean clam chowder.”

“Alright.” I put the car in reverse and like any red-blooded man, or close relative to man, I revved the engine a couple of times before squealing out of the garage, having the car up to sixty before we hit the gate at the end of the long laneway.

Harper was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, and looked sexy as hell. The clientele of Salder’s Kitchen were more of the Chanel crowd, but I smiled, knowing that as Wyatt Westwood, I could walk into that restaurant with my athleisure-clad girlfriend in tow and still get the best seat in the house.

The gates opened and I eased the car onto the street. It wasn’t a vehicle that I drove very often, and we’d spent a fortune fixing the bottom of the damn thing from Jax driving it. I made a quick call to my assistant and got her to set up our table at Salder’s.Even Sandy sounded confused at the request, but like the good assistant she was, didn’t ask any questions.

Heads turned as we drove by. Harper unrolled her window and let her hand hang over the frame, the charms on her gold bracelet fluttering in the breeze. I might be a clueless dude, but halfway to the restaurant I realized what was going on. Harper wanted to be seen in public with me. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel. Had she overheard our conversation the other night? The one where Valentina made the comment about keeping Harper locked up like Rapunzel or… I stiffened, had she heard the crude comment about her not being able to give me a child?

It wasn’t a huge deal, and I couldn’t blame her. I was known as a playboy billionaire. If I was seen at a restaurant with a pretty young blond one day, and at a fundraising gala with a leggy brunette the next, no one would bat an eye.

But, I realized, I didn’t want people to think of Harper as one of those girls. She was so much more than the women I’d dated in the past. “I’m going to make this all up to you, you know.” I patted her leg.

“Can I shift?” she asked, ignoring my comment.

“Sure.” I pushed in the clutch and she grabbed the shifter and down geared perfectly. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“My dad.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Earlier you said you would fix him. What did you mean by that?”

It was another secret I’d kept from Harper, and I wasn’t ready to fill her in on all the details. Not yet, anyway. Not until I knew for sure that we could reverse the damage that had been done to him. I smiled and tried to make the tone of my voice as light as possible. “Not the veterinarian kind of fixed.” I chuckled, but Harper didn’t laugh.

She crossed her arms. My attempt at humor had failed miserably. I changed lanes and stepped on the gas to make itthrough the yellow light before it turned red. “No secrets, right?” I was talking to myself.

“Right.” She nodded, a slight waver in her voice. Her heart rate also increased. It was slight, but I knew her resting rate, and she’d risen to the next level. “No secrets.”

“Tim is working on something that might help your father. I didn’t want to tell you about it until we know if it will work. I hope you’re not upset at me for keeping this from you.”

Her body softened and her pulse returned to resting. She placed her hand on my thigh. “That, I understand. The Valentina thing…” Her voice trailed off.

How many times did I have to reassure her that taking Valentina to the gala was for her own good?

I was flip-flopping between empathy and frustration. I felt like she was overreacting to the situation. “Look. I’m not going to fuck Valentina again. Going to the gala with her is purely a business decision, a strategic call, one that you’re going to have to accept.”

The valet was waiting out front and opened the door for Harper. She stared at me, but I got out to a barrage of camera flashes. I squinted into the lightning-like display and rushed around the car to help Harper out of her seat. As she reached for my hand there was no sign of the sparkle in her eyes.

“Mr. Westwood. Who will you be taking to the Genocorp gala?” One of the paparazzi shouted.

I ignored them.

---