Page 3 of Guilty Pleasures

Silas." Margo's voice breaks my reverie. "Robert Henderson is waiting on line two.

"Can you let him know I’ll call him back?" I reply, taking the folder without meeting her eyes, then my attention drifts back to the window, to Harper. The sunlight catches her hair as she bends to lift a bucket of flowers. My hands clench involuntarily, imagining the silk sliding through my fingers. Now she's chatting animatedly with her friend, her face lit up with a radiant smile. I feel an answering warmth spread through my chest, a longing I ruthlessly squash. There are more important matters at hand than my increasing attraction to a woman who infuriates me.

"Will there be anything else? Would you like me to hire arsonists to burn the place to the ground?" Margo asks, her typical sarcasm at play.

"No, let’s put that solution on the backburner," I reply curtly, not bothering to look at her again. With incredible effort, I wrench myself away from the window and straighten my tie. Time to focus on business.

CHAPTER 3

HARPER

Istab my fork into my salad, skewering a cherry tomato more forcefully than necessary. “I’m telling you, Zoe, that smug jerk is up to something. I can feel it in my bones.”

Zoe sips her iced tea, eyeing me over the rim of her glass. “Harper, honey, you’re becoming obsessed. I know he’s hot, but every conversation we’ve had lately includes Silas Fraser. If you wanted to end this, you’d call Juliet Blackwood, the Mistress of Evil, and have her put this weasel in his place.”

“Don’t call her that. Besides, Mom is still in the Bahamas, and I don’t want to ruin her vacation. It’s best if I handle this jackass on my own. How will I prove to everyone that I’m a mature, independent woman if I call my mommy every time something goes wrong?” I sputter, waving my fork in the air. A piece of lettuce flies off and lands on the table between us. “In the Pink will have the most sublime opening this city has ever seen. And that’s precisely why he wants to mess it up. He hates anything taking away the spotlight from his fancy hotel.”

Zoe sighs, reaching across the table to pat my hand. “Okay, walk me through it. What makes you think he’s interfering? But for heaven’s sake, only legitimate reasons. I can’t hear you go on about him possibly bugging your apartment.”

I lean in, lowering my voice. “Fine. Maybe I went a little nuts there, but I have my reasons. The man always magically appears wherever I am. He was at my bodega last night, buying an orange. Who the hell buys a single orange at 9:00 PM? The day before, he scared the hell out of me when I bumped into him while I was walking in the park. I thought he was moments from mugging me. I’ve seen him almost daily since that poor excuse for a shakedown Sunday night.”

Zoe exhales loudly, waving her hand and urging me to get to the point. “Yes, these are things we’ve discussed, girl. Let’s get to the business meddling before the entree arrives.” She’s not typically this impatient, but I’ll let it slide since I’ve been a bit self-absorbed lately.

“First, my special Hazel Moody pink satchels delivery will be delayed for two weeks. Then, the health inspector showed up, though I’m not serving food at my establishment. He said he got an anonymous tip that I was a bakery, when I don’t even have a damn oven in my shop. That man made me fill out a mountain of paperwork to prove that I wasn’t hiding anything. And this morning, my main supplier of Freda Walsh cashmere sweaters doubled their prices. It’s all too convenient.”

Zoe frowns, her brow furrowing. “That does sound fishy. But Silas? Really? Where would he find the time to be so petty?”

“Who else has the money and influence to pull this off? And that stubborn jerk would surely find the time to be vindictive. He takes my dismissal as an overall rejection, and Silas Fraser isn’t accustomed to women not falling over themselves to fulfill his wishes. Plus, I caught him lurking outside the shop last week. He tried to play it off, but I know he was snooping.”

The bell above the diner’s door jingles with a melodic chime. I glance up, and a chill races down my spine. Speak of the devil. Silas Fraser himself saunters in, exuding an infuriating charm with his annoyingly handsome appearance. He’s dressed in a crisp white shirt that contrasts sharply with his dark jeans, a look I’ve never seen on him before. The casual attire suits him perfectly, but that’s hardly the point.

Our eyes meet, and a slow, maddening smirk spreads across his face, tugging at the corners of his lips with smug confidence. He winks at me, a playful glint in his eyes, before turning his attention to the hostess.

I clutch my fork so tightly that my knuckles blanch, turning a stark white. “See?” I hiss at Zoe, my voice a low, urgent whisper. “He’s everywhere. This can’t be a coincidence.”

Zoe glances between Silas and me, her expression shifting into something curious and knowing. “Oh honey,” she murmurs softly, her voice laced with a gentle understanding. “I think I might know what’s really going on here.” With that, she reaches for her purse and begins to slide from her side of our booth, her movements deliberate and thoughtful.

“Don’t you dare leave or make room for him. This isn’t one of your enemies-to-lovers romance books. This is war—and I’m not going down without a fight,” I growl under my breath, simmering with rage as Silas grows closer.

“Harper! What a pleasant surprise,” Silas says, as if bumping into us at an obscure Lower East Side diner is pure chance and not the result of following my every move.

“Jesus Christ, Silas. Did you slap a LoJack on my ass? You’re not even being subtle anymore.” I take a sip of iced tea and calm myself down before I say something worse.

Zoe gives me a knowing look and stands up. “I just remembered I have a call to make. Harper, I’ll catch up with you later.”

Before I can protest, Silas slides into her vacated seat. His cologne wafts over, spicy and expensive.

“How fortunate to run into you,” he says, flashing that megawatt smile. “I’ve been meaning to discuss an exciting opportunity with you.”

I stuff a piece of cornbread into my mouth and mumble, “Oh? And what might that be?”

Silas leans in, lowering his voice as he speaks. “I’ve found the perfect spot for your boutique on Fifth Avenue. It’s a prime location with loads of foot traffic. It’s far better than Park Avenue and would take your business to the next level.”

“Fifth Avenue?” I raise an eyebrow. That’s quite a step up from my current place, but I refuse to be indebted to Silas Fraser.

“Yes, you’d be right between 56th and 57th Streets.” Silas nods eagerly. “Think about it, Harper. You’ll be side by side with the big names in fashion.” His fingers ghost over my hand. “I could make it happen for you. Cover all the moving expenses and help with the increased rent for the first year.”

I pull my hand away, my pulse quickening. It’s tempting—so tempting. But there must be a catch. I take a sip of water, buying time to collect my thoughts. “I don’t think so. I’m happy with my current location and would rather not obligate myself to someone like you. Thanks for your concern and offer, but that’s a no for me.”

---