Page 24 of Unforgettable

I pull out a chair and deflate into it. As soon as I’ve calmed down, I’ll apologize to her. It’s not her fault Harper makes me crazy.

Dropping my elbows on the table, I cup my head into my hands. “Harper’s here.” I dig my fingers over my eyes to try and remove the image of Harper in Juliette’s gown from my mind. How stunning she looked. She’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Harper Richardson?” Hayden asks, taking a seat opposite me. “Why?”

“She’s back to calling herself Harper Madden. She’s Bianca’s assistant while we’re here.”

They both stare at me with eyes wide with surprise. “Why the hell is she working here?” Hayden asks. His face turns cold and tight. He stands like he’s ready to find Harper and personally escort her from the building. My brothers—my best friends—saw the mess she’d left me in. So broken I’d wrapped my car around a pole. Barely surviving the accident. It’s no surprise they’re not happy to hear she’s working at Alessi’s.

“I don’t know. She said she needed a job. After Derek died, she said he left her with nothing. She needs money.”

“Tell her to leave. It’s not your problem she’s broke,” Lucas says. “I don’t want her anywhere near you.” My brothers are always on my side. Hell, they’d cut off their right arm if I needed it. I’d do the same thing for them in a heartbeat.

I plow my fingers through my hair. “She stays.”

Hayden is pacing in front of the desk, and he abruptly stops. “What? Why? Out of all the places in New York City she can work, there must be a reason she’s here. And it can’t be good.”

“Exactly. I want to know what game she’s playing.”

Hayden frowns. “She’s up to no good. That’s the game. Don’t do this to yourself. Get rid of her. Now!”

Hayden is right. I don’t need to do this to myself. I should make her leave. Today. What’s stopping me? Is it this sick desire I have to torture myself? Is the engagement ring in my pocket no longer enough to remind me of the past? Do I need the woman who caused the chaos to be the reminder?

To appease my brothers, I say, “I’ll think about it.”

They both stare at me like I’ve grown two heads. Hayden says, “What’s there to think about? Nothing good can come out of why she’s here.”

“I need time. Please. Let me do this my way.”

Hayden stares long and hard at me. He nods and sits back down.

To change the subject, because talking about Harper is making me sick to my stomach, I say, “Have you spoken to Dad lately?” Even though our father retired two years ago, he still likes to pop into the office from time to time—keep an eye on things.

“Not for a few days. He’s been out of town with his golf buddies,” Lucas says, hooking his ankle over his knee.

“Anyone know if he’ll be at the photoshoot tomorrow?”

Hayden shrugs, looking uninterested in the conversation, yet I see a slight clenching of his jaw. For years I’ve felt friction between Hayden and Dad. I’ve asked my brother about it several times, but he says it’s nothing, they’re just different and sometimes clash. He’s not wrong about the differences. Our father has a larger-than-life personality. When he enters a room, he commands attention. And loves it. Hayden is quieter. More serious. A thinker more than a talker. Although, he wasn’t always like that. I remember a time when he was loud and fun. Things changed for him when his daughter was born six years ago. Being left with sole custody of a newborn wasn’t easy on him.

“Dad loves a shoot. I’m sure he’ll turn up.” Lucas is right. Dad loves the busy activity.

Hayden and Lucas stay for a few minutes, discussing some details for the shoot, then leave. Once I’m alone, I blow out a long breath, letting my head drop on the back of the chair. I stare at the ceiling. Pictures of Harper in that damn dress play in my mind. Not only in that dress; I’m seeing her every time I close my eyes.

Nine years ago, after I recovered from my accident, I made myself a promise. I promised I wouldn’t let myself get close or have feelings for another woman again. I’d gone through too much pain. My legs may have visible scars from the accident, yet it was my heart which had the most damage. It never recovered. So, I made my life simple. Work, hangout with my brothers and friends, and fuck whoever I wanted with no strings. Except, most of the women I’ve slept with have a striking resemblance to Harper.

I really am a sick bastard.

I meant what I said when I told Hayden and Lucas I want to figure out what Harper’s game is. Is the story about her being broke true? Derek was an asshole; would he do that to his wife? Was their marriage an unhappy one? Were there problems? Did he fuck her every night until she screamed his name? Christ! I blow out a breath and toss the pen in my hand on the desk. Rubbing my palms over my eyes, I try to scrub the image away. Why am I thinking about that shit? Because I haven’t stopped since we broke up. I thought I’d lose my mind.

Well, I will not let her fuck me over again. I’m going to keep an eye on her. Starting now. On my way to Bianca’s office, I pass by Harper’s desk. I stop and watch her. She’s reading something on the computer, tapping a finger to her lips. A little crease forms between her eyebrows. She looks adorable concentrating so hard. My heart gives off a flicker of electricity. Like something orsomeoneis trying to jumpstart it.

As she shakes her head with what looks like annoyance, her eyes lift, and she catches me watching her. I jerk back, clear my throat, and point to a file on the desk. “I need to take that to Bianca.” What the hell am I saying? I have no clue what’s in the file.

Harper looks at the file and back up at me. “This one?” She taps the top of it. “Are you sure? It’s only—”

“Yes. That file.” I snatch it from her hands. I know I sound like a prick. Getting busted staring at her as flustered me.

“Ooo-kkkay.” Amusement glimmers in her eyes.

---