Page 103 of One Sweet Lie

Attending a charity party with the rich was the last thing I wanted to do, but the quicker I returned to things I did pre-Harlow, the faster I could get over her.

Tonight’s misguided cause was ‘Kids Who Need Shoestrings,’ but I donated a million pairs of shoes first before telling the host his idea made no sense.

I also refused to attend unless they agreed to move it to my team’s arena, so I was not-so-anxiously waiting around with my staff in the office wing.

Hopefully, they’ll play some decent music.

“A courier just delivered an urgent package for you.” Denise approached me, holding out a small white envelope, but I didn’t take it.

“Is Mr. Dawson going to be like this for the entire party?” someone asked her. “He hasn’t said a word all night.”

“The party hasn’t started yet, so I’ll make sure he perks up,” she said. “Keep everyone away from him until it’s time to head to the court.”

“I have a drug connect if we need to shoot him up with some cocaine.” “I know someone who can get us some speed.” “Oh, yeah,speed. Much better.”

“I’ll keep those suggestions in mind.” Denise rolled her eyes and waited for the guys to move.

“You have an urgent package, Pierce,” she said. “It might be something we need to know before the party starts.”

I said nothing.

“Since you’re so excited—” She ripped it open. “—I’ll open it for you. Okay, it’s a letter. Want me to read it?”

“I don’t care.”

Dear Mr. Dawson,

Thank you for taking the time to hire me as your nanny.

I also appreciate the storefront you loaned me, but just as you made it clear that you want nothing to do with me anymore, I want nothing to do with you.

I realize the damage my lie caused you and your family, and I need to work on my character integrity.

Wishing You and Your Kids Well,

Harlow

Your kids?I sat up. Harlow typically wrote out their names whenever she sent me a message.

“Are you sure you read that right?” I asked.

“Verbatim.” She held it toward me. “You can read it yourself, if you like.”

“No, that’s okay.”

“Since you’re selling a few other storefronts in your portfolio this month, I can have your realtor put this up for sale as well.”

“Wait. Could you read that note aloud again?” I asked. “A bit slower this time.”

“Sure.” She cleared her throat, and I focused on every word.

I never said that building was a loan. It was a gift.

I was tempted to call her and ask what the hell she was talking about.

Even though I was still pissed at what she’d done, she had to know that I would never want or expect her to give it back.

Those words and the line “I want nothing to do with you,” didn’t seem like something she would write either.

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