My iPad jingles with anotherSquadmessage.
Nicole:Finally found a clear pic of his face. He’s stone cold gorgeous!!
As if I didn’t know.
Though Nicole is usually a pro at stalking men online, she’s been struggling to come up with a decent photo of Harlan’s face. In the rare few public images of him with his family or at some event, he’s always way in the background, out of focus, and/or turned away.
You’d think he was a legit vampire,she texted me early this morning in frustration.Like no one ever gets a photo of him!
Now, she sends me a photo.
I click on it. And holy Christ, he’ssmiling.
He wears a dark suit with a white collared shirt, the collar splayed open to reveal a hint of collarbone. His arms are draped around the two people standing on either side of him. One is a dark-haired woman I now know is his twin sister, Savannah, thanks to Nicole. The other is Damian Vance. The two other Vance brothers flank them. Harlan isn’t looking at the camera; none of them are. It seems like a candid shot.
I really shouldn’t be feeling what I feel when I look at—and save—this photo of him.
I close the photo and get back to work, carrying several large trays out to the front of the bakery, restocking the display cases with filled and glazed treats. Then I get set up in the back room to decorate a new dummy cake—a fancy but fake cake that will sit in the window display. I change it out every few weeks.
As I take out some fondant and start kneading it, I have to stop myself from looking at that photo again.
I’ve already learned the brutal life lesson that dating your bosssucks. Because it gives him way too much power over you.
And anyway, I don’t even know if Harlan Vance is single.
Nor do I care to.
I mean, Nicole says he is, but what does she really know?
It doesn’t matter.
I am not crushing on him in the slightest.
How could I crush on a man who detests me?
The employees-only door at the back of the room opens, and Justin hurries in. His blondish hair is still damp from his morning shower.
I wonder if he had to wash her off of him.
I wonder if he feels guilty when he says, “Hey, babe,” barely meets my eyes, and brushes a hand over my arm as he strides past me.
“Morning,” I say as neutrally as I can, pretending to be laser-focused on rolling out fondant. I was the first one in this morning, which means I got to set the music for the day. Thanks to my mom, I’ve got a sweet spot for the music of her glory days. But I’m deeply regretting putting on myLorraine Foreverplaylist as the man who’s cheating on me slides into his white chef jacket to the tune of Honeymoon Suite’s “New Girl Now” playing over the bakery’s sound system.
I pretty much hold my breath until he heads out front to micromanage his other employees.
Breaking up with him now, while imperative, will be even stickier. After what happened at Velvet last night, I shouldn’t be doing anything to endanger this job. But I really can’t continue on like this.
When my iPad jingles, I can’t resist checking it. What if it’s another photo?
Nicole:I can ask Megan about him for you.
It’s not the first time she’s offered. Her friend Megan recently became engaged to one of Harlan’s brothers, Jameson Vance. But I feel icky about the whole thing.
Me:That’s okay. I don’t think even she could save me if he already hates me.
Nicole:Fine. Then just show some cleavage. Lead with an apology and next thing you know… you’re getting railed by a billionaire!
I can feel her excitement through the iPad.