Page 48 of One Night in Paris

“You heard me.” Dave’s chipperI’m your brovoice was gone. Now, he was speaking to me like he wanted to reach through the phone and squeeze my throat. “I’ve got pictures of you with her, and they’re all very suggestive, especially from the right angles, with the right filters.”

For all I knew, he’d had someone photoshop something offensive into the pictures he spoke of. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I’d been in similar situations before where people tried to blackmail me and say I was fucking someone I shouldn’t be. Everyone from prostitutes to my cousin’s wife. Most of the time, those images showed up in the tabloids no matter what because I wasn’t about to reward that sort of behavior by giving someone money for being an asshole. But this was different.

This was Harper. She wasn’t famous, wasn’t an escort, and she’d done absolutely nothing to deserve the kind of attention this sort of publicity would bring her. Personally, I was used to it. My picture was in the tabloids and plastered all over social media frequently enough, especially since that story about me being the most eligible bachelor in the city came out. I’d just ignore it if it was just me. Sure, my mom hated those kinds of stories and always got upset. But I didn’t let that sort of thing stew.

“What exactly are you saying?” I bit out through gritted teeth. Who did this asshole think he was, threatening me?

“I’m saying, you bring your company in on this project, and those pictures will go away. If you decide not to, I can guarantee you, that little girlfriend of yours is going to be feeling the heat real soon. Does she like attention? Will she be happy to seeher face plastered everywhere? People coming over to her and asking her why she’s fucking her boss?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!” As much as I was trying to stay calm because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d gotten to me, the man was really starting to piss me off. Who the fuck did he think he was, threatening Harper like this?

“Listen, Logan, I don’t blame you for being upset. I would be, too, if the woman I was fucking was about to be embarrassed all over social media. So… I strongly suggest you reconsider the situation. Talk it over with her, see what you think, and get back to me. I’m a reasonable man, Logan. I’ll give you a couple of hours.”

The words I wanted to say to him involved a lot of swearing, but he was right about the fact that I needed to speak to Harper. She may have the same attitude I did—or she might want to do whatever it took to keep this from surfacing. I couldn’t imagine actually working with this asshole since he’d threatened both of us. But at the same time, this decision wasn’t just mine to make. Harper had to be consulted as well.

“Fine. I’ll call you back.” With that, I hung up the phone and ran a hand down my hair. Anger bubbled up inside of me. Banging my fist down on the table, I shouted, “Fuck!”

My outburst brought Harper to the door. Flinging it open, she peered in at me, eyes wide with alarm. “Logan? Is everything okay?”

The last thing I needed was to scare her. “Yeah. I’m okay.” I took some deep breaths and forced myself to smile. “Can you come in for a minute? I have something we need to discuss.”

Her eyes widened even further. My attempt to settle her down had backfired. “Am I in trouble?” she asked.

“No!” Immediately, I tried to reassure her. “No, of course not.”

Watching a deep breath exit her body, I gestured for her to take a seat, which she did. I felt bad for making her think that she had done something wrong. “Harper, I’m just going to get right to it. Dave had someone follow us out of the meeting the other day. Apparently, he has some pictures of us together, pictures that aren’t exactly professional.”

Harper didn’t even blink for several seconds as she considered what I was saying. “Uhm… okay,” she finally replied. “But we didn’t do anything—in public—that would be a problem.”

“I know.” Nodding, I continued. “But you’ve got to understand. Guys like Dave are ruthless. They’ll go to great lengths to make it seem like something inappropriate is happening. Whether it’s just the angle of the camera or actual photoshop, he will do what it takes to make these pictures uncomfortable for you.”

“For me?” Harper repeated. “What about for you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m used to it,” I replied with a shrug. “Nothing he can say or do will bother me. But you’ve never gone through something like this before. Believe me, it can be hard to handle, Harper. People say and do hurtful things when they think they can get away with it.”

I could see her thinking over my words, her forehead crinkled in deep thought. “So what’s the worst that can happen? They say we are fucking? I mean, they have no proof of that. Will the people in the office be offended or angry?”

“No,” I said quickly. “No one will question our relationship here. My people respect me and understand that my private life is none of their business.”

Again, she had to mull that over. Finally, Harper said, “We don’t want to work with this asshole, especially now. If he wants to play hardball, we can play, too, right? I mean, who does he think he is?”

She was angry about this now, which turned me on. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking with my dick, but I felt it hardening just looking at her. “So I should tell him no?”

“Hell yeah, you should tell him no. I’ll call him and tell him myself!” She folded her arms beneath her chest with a humph.

“I’ll call him. Thank you, Harper. I appreciate this. It might not be easy, but—”

“Logan, I’ll do whatever I can to help you. Always.” Her smile let me know she meant that. Damn, this girl was the total package.

Picking up the phone, I quickly called Dave. A few seconds later, he picked up. “Well, Logan, did you speak to your woman? What’s the verdict? We doing this thing?”

All I could say to him was what I should’ve said to begin with. “Dave, go fuck yourself.”

26

HARPER

Kylee’s apartment was in SoHo. She’d had the money to rent something trendy in one of the more sought-after neighborhoods for people our age who weren’t super wealthy but also wanted to say they lived in a part of town not just anyone could afford.

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