Page 1 of Guilty Pleasures

CHAPTER 1

HARPER

Istand in the middle of my new boutique, hands on my hips, surveying the sea of pink before me. Blush chiffon dresses flutter on their hangers, salmon-hued throw pillows beckon from plush velvet chairs, and rosy baubles glitter under soft lighting. Everything is perfect.

Well, it’s almost perfect. I frown at a display of pastel scarves that don’t quite pop the way I’d envisioned. With a determined stride, I march over and begin rearranging them, draping the fabrics just so until they cascade in a delightful ombre effect from palest petal to vibrant fuchsia.

“There,” I murmur, stepping back to admire my handiwork. “That’s more like it.”

My heart swells with pride as I take in the rest of In the Pink. This boutique has been my dream for years, and in just one week, I’ll finally throw open the doors to the public. I can already picture the expressions on women’s faces as they step inside, their eyes lighting up at the array of feminine delights.

Some might scoff at a store dedicated solely to the color pink, but I know better. There’s power in embracing your femininity, in owning it completely. You can rock a pink power suit in the boardroom and still strike fear into the hearts of your competitors. It’s all about confidence, and that’s exactly what I want my boutique to inspire in every customer who walks through the door.

“We’re going to take this town by storm,” I declare to my bestie, Zoe, a grin spreading across my face. “Just you wait and see.”

“Yes, we are. But first, let’s finish up and call it a night,” Zoe whines, her stomach rumbling for dinner.

“Fine. Just one more thing before I leave,” I say as I carefully hang a pink framed photo of my soul dog, Daisy, without whom none of this would be possible. Her stubborn dachshund nature made me persevere through the tough times when I wanted to give up. I only wish she was here with me today. She’s not dead—she’s just island-hopping in the Caribbean with my mother.

“Beautiful. That custom portrait came out better than I expected.” Zoe compliments my girl with her usual enthusiasm. She is Daisy’s godmother, after all.

As I reach for my purse, the small bell above the door chimes, startling me. Confusion washes over me as I glance at the “Closed” sign clearly displayed on the front window. But before I can investigate, my attention is drawn to the man standing in my shop doorway.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that likely costs more than my entire month’s rent, his appearance is strikingly refined. Every inch of him exudes sophistication and wealth. His dark hair is neatly styled, framing a chiseled jawline, and his piercing steel-gray eyes are fixed on me with an intensity that makes me feel exposed. My recognition is immediate. Only one man can steal my breath while simultaneously making my blood boil—Silas Fraser.

Trying to maintain composure, I clear my throat and ask, “What now? What salty news do you bring me today?” The man never fails to bring out the worst in me.

Silas sighs as he glances around my beloved boutique, his lips curling slightly as he takes in the pink wallpaper, the glittering chandeliers, and the plush carpeting.

“Ms. Brooks, have you given any more consideration to my offer to buy you out?” Silas’s voice is deep, with a commanding tone that demands attention. He has an air of confidence and authority about him, and it’s clear he’s used to getting what he wants.

Although my heart skips a beat, his audacity makes me quickly come to my senses.

I look from side to side, drawing Silas’s attention to the impeccable decor and boxes of merchandise stacked by the wall. “Does it look like I’ve given it much consideration? We open in seven days, and I’ve already consulted my lawyer about your constant harassment. I suggest you become comfortable with my rejection and move on.”

“Rejection?” Silas’s gray eyes grow wide with offense. That’s probably not a word he hears often.

I roll my eyes, astounded that Silas Fraser would equate my repudiation with something more personal. “Yes, I’m rejecting your offer to buy me out. No means no. You can’t come in here sporting your best threads and enough cologne to make my eyes water, thinking I’ll just fold like a cheap suit.”

“Interesting analogy for someone your age,” Silas mutters, his exasperation clearly growing. “But I’ll give you a final offer before your opening. I’m being generous now, Harper. I won’t be in the future.”

I take a deep breath and try to compose myself. Standing tall, I lift my chin and meet Silas Fraser’s gaze head-on. “My store isn’t for sale. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do before our grand opening. I hope this is the last I’ll hear from you.” The firmness in my voice surprises even me as I turn and walk away, determined to make my dream a reality despite this nuisance challenge. I’ve put everything I have into In the Pink—it’s my dream, my future. And this crazy man wants to buy it and close it down before I’ve even opened?

Silas’s piercing, gray eyes narrow to thin slits, sending a shiver down my spine. It’s as if every fiber of his being is focused on convincing me to change my mind. “You’re making a grave mistake,” Silas emphasizes, each syllable enunciated with menacing force. “Think of what this sale could do for your business. You could open a store in the heart of Soho or Tribeca. But if you choose to remain here, your little shop will surely go under within a month.” His words hang heavy in the air, tempting yet ominous at the same time.

Silas Fraser’s smug face looms before me, his eyes glittering with malice.

My blood boils at the sight of him, and I can feel my hands clench into tight fists at my sides as I struggle to keep my composure.

“How dare you threaten my livelihood,” I hiss, my voice trembling with anger. “I have already told you, Mr. Fraser—this property is not for sale. Not now, not ever.”

As he leans in closer, the scent of his expensive cologne is overwhelming. I lied when I implied it was foul. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever smelled, and the more I inhale, the tighter my thighs clench in a poor attempt to tamp my arousal. “Do not presume to tell me what is best for me or my business,” I snap. “You may have money, but that does not give you the right to bully others into submission.”

A sly smile spreads across his face as Silas speaks again. “But surely you understand the benefits of selling to me. Think of all the trouble that could be avoided if you simply agreed.” A veiled threat lingers in his words. “It would be a shame if word got around town about your… questionable business practices.”

A cold sweat breaks out across my skin, my heart hammering against my ribcage. I know precisely what Silas is implying, and its weight threatens to crush me. In this cutthroat industry, rumors spread like wildfire, devouring reputations and careers in their path. The mere mention of impropriety could spell disaster for everything I’ve worked tirelessly to build. But I refuse to let him see how rattled I am. Steeling my nerves, I lift my chin and meet his unflinching gaze. “Is that a threat, Mr. Fraser?” My voice is steady, betraying none of the fear that churns in my stomach.

Silas gives a practiced chuckle, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smug smirk. “Of course not. I’m simply looking out for your best interests.” He straightens his tie with a flick of his wrist, the expensive fabric gleaming under the bright pink lights. “Just think about it for another day. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” His words hang in the air like a dark cloud, leaving a lingering sense of unease in their wake.

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