Page 13 of The Most Dearest
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I felt utterly in control as I prepped dinner: steak, baked potatoes with all the toppings, and baked asparagus with baby broccoli. I didn't know Damon that well, but what man didn't like steak? It was one of Harrison’s favorite dishes. I checked my phone. Shit, I had 20 minutes until Damon arrived. I was wearing a fitted pink dress. It was sexy, but somewhat casual. The neckline was modest, and the skirt ended just above the knee, but it was fitted. Very fitted. I finished the look with chocolate-colored ankle boots. I set the timer on the oven and rushed off to do my make-up. I was finishing the mascara when I heard Harrison and Emma stomping about in the hall. The tension in the house had shifted. Previously a source of angst, Harrison and Emma were now like comic relief. Harrison was spiraling the more Miranda gave him shit, and Emma was trying to be supportive but all she could do was give him soothing words and stroke his chest. She never outright confronted Miranda or spoke to me.
I walked past them and entered the kitchen to pull out some wine glasses. Harrison followed me immediately, casting his eyes up and down my body. “You’re dressed up,” he remarked. Emma hung behind him like the clingy child she was. “Well, I have a date, Harrison. People tend to dress nicely for dates.”
“So, Miranda really isn't coming,” he observed, craning his neck to see the two places set at the dining table.
“No. She's out with Cam.”
He snapped out of his apparent trance and thrust a letter in my hand.
“Well, when you see her, tell her this isn't funny anymore. She can't go around fucking with my career or I'll have her charged. She sent this to Brian.”
I skimmed the letter he handed me. I didn't know she was going to do this, but it had Miranda vibes all over it. There was a Dior emblem in the upper left corner, as well as details of the company’s headquarters in Europe. Miranda was certainly thorough. It was addressed to Brian Howard, Harrison’s boss.
Dear Mr. Howard,
As you may know, Dior has been having branding issues with its Sauvage cologne. Despite our efforts to halt the narrative that Sauvage is the "official scent of the narcissist," our efforts are being constantly undermined by the use of our product by problematic men such as Mr. Harrison Watts, who has actively sought the company of a teenage girl who is his professional subordinate. Please ensure that Mr. Watts discontinues his use of the Sauvage line to minimize any further reputational damage to the brand, or we will have no option but to withhold stock of all Dior products to your pharmacy.
If you have any queries relating to the issues raised in this letter, please consult Mr. Watts directly for further information.
Yours sincerely,
Mr. Con. Cerned-Citizen
It was all I could do not to laugh. Harrisondidwear Sauvage. And it was being hauled over the coals on social media. “I don't know anything about this, Harrison. Sounds like a prank. Who else have you pissed off with your narcissism?”
His eyes narrowed in pure anger. “It's Miranda, I know it.”
“Well, even if it is, it’s not illegal. Nothing in that is untrue on your part. If Dior wants to take action, then they may have a case. But you? Tell me what the letter has got wrong?”
He snatched the offending letter out of my hand. “Well, Brian started questioning me and Emma. Tell Miranda her little prank didn't work. He is fine with our relationship.” His voice hit a higher pitch when he reached the last sentence. Hmm. I knew Brian. There may not be written rules about relationships at the pharmacy, but Brian was a solid family man. He wouldn't like Harrison carrying on with a junior staff member.
The doorbell sounded and I rushed over to answer it, making sure I looked like an excited, giddy woman who was totally in love.
“Damon!” I greeted him, stepping aside to welcome him in. What a sweetheart! He had a bunch of flowers in his hand and was dressed in a nice shirt and black slacks.
“Cordelia, beautiful as always,” he said with a wink, giving me a kiss on the cheek. Harrison and Emma stood awkwardly in the hall, making it a tight fit as we slipped past them to the kitchen. Damon completely ignored them both, complimenting my hair and perfume as we walked by.
“We’re staying in tonight, Cordelia,” Harrison fumed.
“Okay, whatever. I'm not feeding you though. Go into the living room. Scat!” I dismissed him with my hand, never taking my eyes off Damon. It wasn't difficult leaving my eyes on Damon.Was there such a thing as a beautiful man? If so, Damon was beautiful. At the very least, he was incredibly handsome. And he smelled so nice, definitely not Sauvage.
Chapter 14: Harrison – Growing paranoia
Hell is empty and all the devils are here
The Tempest, William Shakespeare
I placed an order for Japanese as Emma snuggled into my side. She was the only thing keeping my blood pressure down at the moment. I hadn't let on the full story to Cordelia, but Brian had been furious about the fake Dior letter. He knew it wasn't real, but I'd still been sat down in his office like a child while he berated me about dating a subordinate and sneaking around behind my girl's back. I told him we'd broken up before I started seeing Emma, but he didn't believe me. He just warned me that he'd better not see any inappropriate behavior in the workplace. We had two casual staff members who were 16, and he made it very clear that I was on his radar.
It was ridiculous. He didn't even know about my relationship with Emma until Miranda spilled her guts. If we were such a bad example, how he had not even noticed our relationship yet? I put my arm around Emma and pushed my face into her neck. She was beautiful and so gentle and sweet. She had a way of supporting me. She was always in the background encouraging me and praising me. I fell more and more in love with her every day. Our passion in the bedroom had not abated one bit, and I was so ravenous for her we sometimes found ourselves in my car on our lunchbreak, fucking behind Walmart.
I could hear Cordelia and the asshole neighbor laughing from the dining room. She was overselling it. She never laughed that hard with me, and I had a very dry wit that she loved. This guywas more of an overgrown puppy, eager and over the top. His humor would be clumsy and blunt, unsophisticated.
I’d washed my hands when I got home but felt like I should sanitize before our dinner arrived. Thankfully, I’d thrown the sanitizer Miranda tampered with away. I grabbed the bottle from the coffee table drawer and applied it. The stats on how many germs lived on the skin were horrifying. I wrung my hands together but felt the same slippery sensation I had when I used the kitchen bottle. Fucking Miranda. She’d got to this bottle too. I swore out loud and jumped up to wash my hands, accidentally knocking Emma off the sofa.
“Sorry, baby.” I leaned down to help her up, realizing too late that my hands were a slippery mess. She fell back down as her hand slipped from mine. “What is that?” she asked, wiping her hand on her skirt. “Don't rub it into your clothes. I don't know what it is, some kind of lubricant. It's bloody Miranda again.”
