Page 8 of Guilty Pleasures

“Harper, wait,” I plead. “Can’t we talk about this?” But she’s already heading for the door.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “This can’t go anywhere. Let’s just forget it ever happened.”

And then she’s gone, the door slamming behind her. I’m left alone on the couch, staring at the space where she’d been just moments ago, wondering how everything went so wrong so fast.

CHAPTER 7

HARPER

Irun my hands over the soft fabric of my dress, smoothing out any wrinkles. Anticipation and nerves swirl within me as I turn the key in the lock of the boutique’s gleaming front doors. This is it—the moment I’ve been working toward for years. As I flip the sign from “Closed” to “Open,” a jolt of excitement courses through my body.

As soon as the sign glows pink, the chatter of excited customers fill my ears instead of the soft music of the store. The polished floors reflect the light, making the space feel even more glamorous. High-end fashion magazines lay displayed on a nearby table, showcasing the latest trends and styles. As socialites adorned in designer outfits peruse the racks, their heels click against the floor like a symphony of sophistication.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a few familiar faces from magazine covers and gossip columns. Is that really Olivia Pucci, one of the most influential fashion bloggers, examining my curated selection of statement necklaces? A wave of pride washes over me as I watch her closely inspect each piece with interest.

As I make my way through the lively crowd, a familiar voice trills out my name. I see Marissa Wheeler, my former boss fromNYC Fashion Magazine, gliding toward me with her signature air-kisses on each cheek. Her perfectly coiffed hair and designer dress add to her glamour.

“Harper, darling! This place is absolutely divine,” she gushes, sweeping her gaze around the room. My heart swells with pride at her words—all of my hard work and sacrifices have led to this moment.

The room is filled with the soft clinking of champagne glasses and the buzz of conversations and laughter. Everywhere I look, people admire my carefully selected inventory, their eyes lighting up with delight. The atmosphere is electric, and I am basking in its glow. This is truly a dream come true.

With a sudden hush, the previously bustling boutique falls silent as the delicate chime of the door announces a new visitor. Every head turns to see Adeline Ross, the socialite model and influencer whose stunning red-carpet looks can make or break designer careers. The air seems to still as she sashays toward me, dressed from head to toe in pink.

Our eyes meet, and she flashes me a warm smile, causing my heart to race excitedly. Adeline reaches me and extends a perfectly manicured hand, introducing herself and expressing her eagerness to finally meet me. Her bright smile lights up the room, infusing it with an electric energy that matches her celebrity status.

My hand trembles as I shake hers, struggling to find my voice in her presence. “I… wow. It’s such an honor to have you here, Ms. Ross.”

Her laughter echoes like a symphony, filling the room with warmth and joy. “Please, call me Adeline. And the honor is all mine. I’ve heard nothing but incredible praise about your collection. I’ve dreamed of opening a store like this for years!”

As we chat, Adeline’s excitement and passion are infectious. She gushes over product ideas, each more unique and creative than the last.

Then, out of nowhere, she drops a bombshell. “I’d love to collaborate with you, Harper. My new fragrance, Pink Dream, is set to launch next month, and I want to feature it exclusively in your store before it hits shelves worldwide. What do you say?”

My heart races as I process her words—this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and it’s happening on my very first day as a business owner. “I say yes! And thank you!” My voice shakes with emotion as I accept her offer, gratitude bubbling inside me.

Adeline’s eyes sparkle with excitement, like a child at the mention of candy. “Harper, darling, this is simply marvelous! Pink Dream would be the perfect addition to your already chic aesthetic.” She looks around the room, taking in the blush-colored walls and dreamy furnishings. “I envision a whole corner devoted to the fragrance, complete with pink flowers and whimsical cloud decorations.”

I nod eagerly, my imagination running wild with possibilities. “And we can’t forget about a launch event—prizes, testers, the whole shebang!” My mind races with ideas. “Oh, and for our loyal customers, we could offer a pink makeup bag as a gift with purchase.”

“I love how your mind works,” Adeline says with a grin. “This is why I knew this place would be perfect!”

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at her praise. “Well, I have great products to work with,” I say, winking at her. “Now, let’s hash out the details. We’ve got a pink dream to bring to life!”

Adeline claps whimsically and then digs through her small pink purse. She pulls out a business card and practically shoves it into my hand. “This is my business manager, Karl Becker. He’ll get you in touch with his brother, Rolf, my lawyer. They’ll get everything started, and we’ll go from there.”

I stare at the black-and-silver embossed card and stifle a squeal until Adeline is out of earshot. I’m a professional woman—not a fangirl. But some occasions deserve a good scream.

“Oh, my Lord, Adeline Ross wants to do business with you!” Zoe sidles next to me, a wide grin plastered on her face. “I’m so glad I invested in this place.”

“Invested? What investment?” I furrow my brow, utterly perplexed.

“Don’t you remember when I exchanged one percent for half of my sandwich?” Zoe quirks an eyebrow, tapping her foot with expectation.

“I was kidding,” I correct her.

“I wasn’t. That was a huge sandwich, and I was starving!” Zoe digs into her purse and struggles to find something. “I have the receipt somewhere around here.”

“You’re really something.” I shake my head, pursing my lips with judgment.

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