Page 64 of One Night in Paris

Tears stung the backs of my eyes as I thought about what I needed to do. Mom had her eyes closed and was listening to relaxing music to help take the focus off the chemo, so I was okay to get up and leave the room for a while. Her chemo wasn’t even a quarter of the way through anyway. We’d be here a while.

Letting the nurse know I’d be back, I headed out the door to find a private waiting room. The clinic had plenty of optionsfor family members to take a break and decompress, so it wasn’t hard to find a little room that was empty.

Sinking down into a seat, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and began to type the words I hoped I’d never have to say. I loved my job so much, but the only way to end all of this was to completely step away from Logan Winters, which meant I’d also have to quit Winters Architectural Firm.

Taking my time, I thought about all of the things I needed to say to him. It was easier to send it in a text, but it was also cowardly. I should’ve at least had the decency to call him. He’d been a really good boss even if he hadn’t been so good as a potential boyfriend.

That wasn’t true either. He’d actually been an amazing boyfriend, not that we’d made it that far. No, the problem was he was used to being in the limelight, and I wasn’t. He didn’t understand why all of this was such a big deal to me because he was always dodging cameras and hearing absurd rumors.

With the message written, I read over it one more time, tears trickling down my cheeks. It was matter of fact and to the point, though a text to quit couldn’t be considered professional. I had let him know what had happened at the hospital, how my mother had been affected again, thanked him for everything, but told him I couldn’t do this anymore. He’d just have to find another assistant. I couldn’t keep doing this to my mother.

Feeling guilty, embarrassed, and taken advantage of, I hit send.

Then I blocked and deleted all of Logan’s contact information in my phone, including social media. By the time I’d finished erasing Logan Winters from my life, tears were streaming down my cheeks. Telling him I couldn’t date him anymore had been the most excruciating thing I’d ever done, but somehow, quitting my new job felt just as bad.

Needing to get myself under control before my mom was done with her therapy, I managed to keep more tears from falling and took some calming deep breaths. I’d gotten through hard things in my life before, so this was really no different. We’d saved some money up while I was working for Logan, so I wouldn’t necessarily have to work two jobs, at least for a while. Hopefully, Uncle Joe’s still needed me, and I could just work there.

The only thing worse than not being able to work for Logan anymore would be having to go back to work for Dotty.

35

LOGAN

The gym in my apartment building had all of the most up-to-date workout equipment available. The space was huge, with plenty of machines for everyone who lived in the building and wanted to work out to do whatever they wanted at any given time without having to wait for the correct equipment. In fact, it had so much to offer that many of us gave passes to our friends to be able to use the facilities whenevertheyliked.

Trevor was one of those people. Even though he had his own state-of-the-art workout room in his own home, he liked to use the one in my building because it was, “a good place to meet smoking hot rich babes.” We tried to work out together a couple times a week, but when I was super busy in the office, that didn’t happen. We both still found time to work out every day but not always together.

Since I’d received that text from Harper the day before, though, I’d been feeling completely down and out of sorts. I’d gotten absolutely nothing accomplished at work today, and it had nothing to do with the fact that I was without an assistantagain. No, this time it wasn’t because the job was vacant but because of who it had been vacated by.

Trevor had suggested we meet at the gym, thinking the endorphins would do me some good. I’d wanted to tell him to go to hell, but the more I thought about it, the more I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try. He could be right. Maybe working out would make me feel better.

It seemed like a long shot, though. After Harper told me she didn’t want to date me last week, my only solace had been that at least we worked together, and I would still be able to see her in the office. Walking in today to see her desk empty made my stomach twist into a knot. All of her things were still there, including the plant I’d gotten her to make her area homier. But she was gone.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’d gone over to sit in her chair a few times just to see if her scent still lingered, which it did. Breathing in her floral scent had only made my heart feel heavier.

Now, all I could smell was body odor as I ran alongside Trevor on the treadmills. That and the acidic odor the machine itself always seemed to give off. It smelled a bit like burning rubber and alcohol wipes leftover from whenever it had last been cleaned. None of it was offensive, though. The pain in my heart seemed to deaden all of my senses.

Trevor popped out one earbud to talk to me, something he rarely did when we were exercising. “Dude, you’ve gotta shake this off. I know you really liked her and all, but you’ll find someone else.”

“It’s just unbelievably shitty that she’s having to go through all of this,” I told him. “She most definitely doesn’t deserve all the crap that the tabloids are dragging her through, and her mother doesn’t either. Can you believe those assholes attacked them while they were at the cancer clinic of all places?” When Harper had told me that, I’d nearly dropped my phone. Someof these photographers were ruthless and would do whatever it took to get a juicy photo, but this crossed a line. Not only was the photo not juicy, but it was invasive and offensive. They deserved to have some consequences for what they’d done.

At least, when I’d looked the photos up online later, a lot of the comments had been about how shitty it was to snap photos of someone while they were taking their mother to chemotherapy. Of course, a lot of them had also been unbelievably mean to Harper, calling her all kinds of names. Some of them had even commented on her mother’s hair, of all things. People were awful sometimes, especially when they were behind a keyboard and felt like they couldn’t be caught.

“That was fucking bullshit,” Trevor agreed. “It definitely crossed over a line. It got so far beyond the line, the line was invisible from where they were standing.”

“Yeah, so I can’t blame Harper for not wanting to have anything to do with me. I don’t know how I could’ve handled any of this differently, though. It wasn’t as if Harper and I were doing anything wrong in the photos Dave published of us.” The temptation to fly back to California just to punch that slimeball in the nose was always in my thoughts.

“Well, someone did tell you it wasn’t a good idea to date your assistant,” Trevor said with a shrug. “But who the fuck ever listens to me?”

“While I’ll give you that you did warn me, in this case, it wouldn’t have mattered, Trev. They manipulated the photo. I would’ve had to literally not go anywhere with Harper or even be seen in public with her for it to make a difference.”

“True,” he admitted. “I’m sorry, man. I know you feel like shit. And I liked Harper. I did. I just… she gave you the okay to go through with this, and then she blamed you. That’s not cool either.”

He had a point. That was something I kept going over in my mind. Was she just blaming me for everything because she was scared? I couldn’t say. What I did know was that all of it was my responsibility either way because I was the one who dragged her into a world she never wanted to be a part of. After all, when I’d first met her, before we’d had sex, I hadn’t been honest with her. I’d told her that I was a student. What kind of excess baggage would a student bring along? None. Even though she’d also lied, it wasn’t as if lingerie designers were used to having their photos taken for gossip rags. Models? Sure. But not the people who designed their clothes.

“It just really sucks that they brought her mom into it,” I continued. “I mean, maybe if it had just been Harper, she would’ve found a way to power through it. Let it pass. But she is so protective of her mother—as she should be—I think that’s what pushed her over the edge.”

“There has to be something you can do to help her,” Trevor contemplated, speaking aloud. “You’re rich and powerful, dude. Can’t you make this go away?”

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