Page 63 of One Night in Paris

“What about your health?” I countered. “You can’t worry about me if you’re—”

“Dead?” Chuckling, Mom finished my sentence for me.

Giving her a sideways glance, I said, “I was going to say ‘not feeling well.’” I didn’t like to think about my mom dying, that was for sure. I certainly wouldn’t have ever joked about it.

“I know you don’t exactly have a lot in common with him, what with the man being named the most eligible bachelor in the city because he’s so rich, but his personality was appealing to you, right? And his looks?”

Feeling myself blush at my mother’s innocent phrasing, I tried to stay focused on the reasons why Logan and I wouldn’t work. “Mom, those photographers jumped out and scared the crap out of you. And then there’s the fact that there have been several other articles released about me since then. You’ve seen the headlines, haven’t you?” I didn’t give her a chance to answer because I knew that she had. “The one that featured the pictures of us leaving the coffee shop was calledBillionaire’s Most Recent Fling Can’t Get Enough of Her New Found Fame!” They’d taken advantage of the fact that the magazine had been open in my hands to try to make me look vain. Bastards.

“I know, Harper.” Mom sighed and shook her head. “They weren’t nice at all, and I can’t blame you for not being happy about all of that, but I think Logan is doing the best he can. It’s not like he didn’t warn you that this could happen, right? And you went along with it, so I just want to make sure that you’re being fair to him. He’s been so good to you.”

Irritated, I reminded her, “He might’ve said that I would end up being photographed, but those jerks put your picture in the tabloids, too, Mom. And that’s not okay!” Yanking the car intothe parking facility, I tried to calm down so I didn’t do something stupid. But I was pissed.

Mom didn’t say anything else. I hoped that meant she had let it go. It wasn’t until we had gotten out of the car and were approaching the clinic that I saw something that made us both freeze in our tracks.

Photographers. Lots of them. They flanked the door to the clinic, lying in wait, all of them with their cameras ready. My stomach dropped. Who would be so horrid as to stalk people at a cancer clinic? Did these people have absolutely no morals whatsoever?

Rage boiled up inside of me. My hands automatically fisted at my sides. I was about to come unhinged on these assholes.

“Honey, let’s just ignore them. Keep a smile on your face and walk past.” Mom grabbed hold of my arm tightly, trying to jar me back to reality.

But I was having none of it. Storming over toward them, I began to shout, “What the hell is wrong with you people? This is a fucking cancer clinic. Don’t you have any morals at all? Get the fuck out of here!”

“Miss Reynolds, is it true Logan Winters is paying you for sex?” one of them shouted at me, right in front of my mother and other patients trying to get in and out of the clinic.

Another screamed, “Is it true he only gave you the secretary job because you give good head?”

“There are children here!” I reminded them. “Children with cancer!”

Just then, the door to the clinic flew open, and a muscular man who towered over me by at least a foot and a half came storming out. “All of you, get out of here right now!” he shouted, pointing a long finger at the photographers. “You continue to harass our patients, you’ll all find yourself in jail for trespassing!”

Many of the photographers ignored him at first, snapping pictures of us and continuing to scream rude questions. When the security guard took some hurried steps in their direction, they backed up, some even running. He didn’t let up until they’d all scattered. Then, with his arm around my mother, his strength became gentleness, and he guided us inside.

By the time we got into the clinic, Mom was crying. She couldn’t handle situations like this. It was all too stressful for her. Mom’s doctor and two nurses came rushing over to help settle her down.

“Thank you,” I said to the security guard whose uniform said Barkley. “I appreciate it, officer.”

“It’s not a problem, Miss Reynolds.” His words didn’t match his expression when he looked at me, though. It seemed like he was upset at me for being the type of woman who would be in this sort of situation since it had affected my mother.

He wouldn’t be wrong to think that if there was any chance that what those people had been shouting were true, but all of it was bullshit created out of their sick minds or Dave’s demented thoughts as he did his best to come up with something to hurt both Logan and me.

Once Mom was settled down, the doctor led us back to her chemo room, and they got her hooked up. My hands were trembling as I sat down next to her bed, thinking I’d wait with her for a while until she settled in. Then, I needed some time for myself.

“It’s okay, Harper.” Mom’s voice was still quivering just a bit as she began to speak to me. “I know you’re upset, sweetheart, but this is just one of those things that’s far worse when you’re in the midst of it. By tomorrow, it’ll all blow over, and people will move on to the next big thing to talk about, especially if they don’t have any more pictures of you and Logan out in public together to publish. I mean, really, who wants to see pictures ofan old lady at a coffee shop?” She laughed in self-deprecation, but I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. She was still visibly shaking.

“Mom, this isn’t me,” I said, trying not to upset her again. “I can’t keep living this life.”

She nodded, smiling at me with love in her eyes. “You do what you think is best, dear, and I will support you.”

“Even if I go back to the diner?” Just saying the words was difficult, but I didn’t know what else to do.

Mom’s eyes widened for a second, but then she nodded. “Whatever it is you think you need to do, sweetheart.”

The fury that had pulsed through me before turned into frustration and sadness as I thought about what I had brought upon my mother. I’d taken that job with Logan because it would help me to provide a better life for my mom. Sure, I enjoyed working at the firm. My job was so much more challenging and fun than the diner. And I hated working for Dotty.

But the last few days since I’d told Logan I wasn’t going to go out with him anymore, seeing him at the office had been uncomfortable for both of us. He was as professional as always, but he didn’t go out of his way to ask me to stay and bounce ideas off one another or to work on accounts that were different so I could learn. No, it was like we weren’t even friends anymore.

Maybe we weren’t. I had yelled at him a lot. Honestly, he could’ve fired me and been totally justified in doing so.

---