21. Chapter 20
Chapter 20
Jemima
Morning teatime arrives, and I nervously slide my cake into the middle of the table next to Harvey’s. The boxes hide our cakes so we can't compare. Two vanilla sponges. One winner.
I stand back, rubbing my hands together. Molly enters, her eyes flicking between the two cakes. “Are we ready?”
Harvey lounges in his chair, exuding confidence. “I’ve got this in the bag,” he mumbles.
Molly lifts the lids, and my jaw hits the floor. “You didn’t bake that,” I blurt out, pointing at his cake. It’s a masterpiece with two layers of light golden-colored cakes with a perfect jelly and cream ratio, topped with a sugar dusting and dressed in the same purple flowers he brought me.
Beside sits mine, a three-layered sponge that looks more golden, with strawberries neatly arranged on top.
Molly steps in. “Let’s do the taste test.”
“First, call your grandma on video. I want to make sure she didn't bake this,” I demand, my frustration boiling over.
Molly tries to calm me. “I don’t think that's necessary.”
I plead with her. “There’s no way he made that.”
Harvey raises an eyebrow. “I followed a recipe. There were no rules against that, were there?”
“No,” I admit through gritted teeth.
He pulls his phone out and dials, and a deep male voice answers, “Harvey.”
“Hey Dad, is Grams there?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I need to talk to her.”
The next minute an older woman's voice sounds. “Harvey?”
“Hi, Grams,” he says, smiling as I hear her voice crack through the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m at work, but I baked a cake using your recipe for the vanilla sponge,” he replies.
“Oh, you did?”
Harvey glances at me, then to the screen, her eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.
“Did you want to see it?” he asks, holding the phone closer, eager to show her.
“Yes.”
He turns the phone camera to the cake, and she beams, “Great job. Did you make two?”
“No, the other one was made by my co-worker.”
“They both look great. Which is yours?”
He points to his. “I like the ranunculi on top. I’ve never thought to use them.”
“Thanks, Grams. I better go. I just wanted to show you.”
He really did make this cake…
“Well done, Harvey. I’m proud of you,” she gushes. A pang of longing hits me.
I need to call my mom later.
Harvey’s face softens, a slight blush creeping in.
My anger fades. He’s not only intelligent and thoughtful but also genuinely kind to his family, blurring the lines of my frustration.
Molly cuts the cakes, and we all taste both. I try mine first. It’s lovely and fluffy but a tad drier than usual. Then I taste his and release a tight breath. It’s perfect—light, moist and delicious. I don’t dare look at him, knowing he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. He would’ve tasted mine and known it was a little overcooked.
Molly finishes her tasting, nodding thoughtfully as she looks between the cakes. “You both did a great job,” she starts.
“Who’s the winner?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She gives me a sympathetic look and turns to Harvey. “Yours wins.”
“Fuck yeah!” He fist-pumps the air, a wide grin spreading across his face. As the phone rings, Molly rushes out to answer it.
I roll my eyes. “Calm down. It’s only a friendly cake competition.”
He steps closer, still grinning. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you won. Better luck next time, buttercup.” He’s in my personal space, his finger lightly grazing my lip. My breath catches, and I freeze as he rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, and then slowly sucks it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.
I’m speechless, standing there with my mouth hanging open.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” he teases.
Oh, he’s really trying to fuck with me. I force myself to respond, my voice coming out breathy. “Congratulations.”
A spark lights up his eyes, and one side of his lip curls into that dangerous smile I can’t seem to ignore. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I shake my head, trying to focus on something other than him. “I’ve got to go finish the baby shower preparations before my meetings with the mom-to-be.”
“Do you need me?” He steps back into work mode, which I’m grateful for.
“No, it's a small one. I’ve got it.”
“What do you want me to do, then?” There’s a tinge of disappointment in his tone.
I think about what new events he can handle without touching the finances. “Maybe you can call Oliver and get the next event’s date and location.”
“Done. Then if it’s okay with you, I’ll get started on new software.”
I nod. “Go for it.”
I walk out of the breakroom as Harvey calls out, “Molly, what's my prize for winning?”
A sense of dread washes over me. I hope his reward works in my favor.
“I need time to think about it,” Molly says back. “Let’s all meet up when Jem gets back from the meeting.”
I leave the room, taking my plate of cake with me. After an hour, I return from my meeting and head to Harvey's office, but he’s not there. I find Molly instead. “What’s the reward?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Molly,” I warn.
“Fine, I’ve decided, but I’m not telling you.”
“I’m your boss.”
“Don’t?” Molly starts.
“What are we talking about?” Harvey strolls in and stands beside me.
I keep quiet and let Molly speak. “She wants to know if I’ve decided on your prize yet.”
“She does? So do I,” he says, leaning on the desk, his eyes gleaming with playful curiosity as he watches us, the corner of his mouth tugging into a faint grin.
Molly’s face brightens as she sits up in her chair.
“You two have to have dinner together,” she says, folding her arms with a knowing grin, chin tilted just slightly higher like she’s hit the jackpot.
Her eyes dart between Harvey and me with glee.
“I can’t?” I begin to deny as I feel my body flushing.
“I’ll have Chad for the night,” Molly cuts me off. She knows I’ll do anything to get out of this.
“Then I’ll organize the dinner,” I say, hoping for a low-key meal where I don’t have to dress up and we’ll be done in two hours. I don’t want him to read too much into this.
I can have dinner with a friend.
“I won. Which means I’ll organize,” Harvey deadpans.
I quickly retort, “But then you're doing all the work, and isn't that the loser's job?”
He shakes his head, his tone making it final. “It’s my job. As a man, don’t take it away from me.”
“Fine,” I say, lifting my hands in surrender. “What time do I need to be ready?”
“Six.”
I give Molly a death stare, like she owes me. Clearly thinking this is the best thing ever, she just smiles.
I walk off to my office and try to concentrate on work. But as I pull up the spreadsheet I’ve created, my mind wanders. I’m already thinking about what I’ll wear, what we’ll talk about, and if he will end the night with a kiss.
I’m putting on my beige coat, the anticipation growing with every second as I expect him to arrive any minute. My hands tremble slightly as I choose my favorite light-wash skinny jeans, pairing them with a thin cream high-neck sweater and gray pumps. Not knowing where we’re going, and with limited time, I decided to go with a casual yet chic look. After dropping Chad off at Molly's after work, I rushed home for a quick everything shower.
As I wait, my mind races back to my twenties—the last time I felt butterflies this intense. The nausea and urge to bail are overwhelming, but a knock at the door pulls me back to the present. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the feeling of the tightness in my chest.
“Hi,” I greet him, opening the door. Relief washes over me as I take in his appearance, more casual than usual. He’s wearing a black sweater and black pants with a simple belt. His hair is its usual end-of-day mess, so he must have rushed too, juggling work and organizing this date.
“You look beautiful.”
My cheeks heat, and I drop my gaze to the floor. “Thanks,” I mumble, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I close the door behind me, his presence close, invading my space, and it messes with me. Locking the door, I step outside, expecting his sports car, but instead finding a limousine waiting. As much as I want this to feel like a casual night out as peers, I can’t help but appreciate all the little date-night touches.
“I’ve never been in a limo before.”
“Glad I could pop your cherry,” he says with a chuckle.
I shake my head but laugh. It’s tough trying to maintain a strictly professional relationship, especially when he’s in a playful mood.
A gray-haired man in his fifties, dressed in a crisp suit, opens the door. I smile and climb into the limousine, sinking into the beige leather seats. They’re soft and luxurious, everything I thought it would be. Yet I can’t shake the feeling that I shouldn’t be here. Life has this sick way of pulling the rug out from under me just when I start to feel happy. Letting me fall hard on my ass.
He climbs in beside me, putting a hand on my thigh, and I clasp my hands in my lap, trying to steady them. The drive is short, and we soon arrive in Soho. He gets out first, offering his hand to help me. “How was the ride?”
“Really nice.”
“It’ll take us back later.”
I can’t help but wonder how much later.
“Let’s go.” Harvey ushers me inside, and we take the elevator to the rooftop. It’s just us and a few servers here. This place is quiet, except for some soft music playing through the speakers. Where is everyone else?
“Are you sure it's open?”
He chuckles, his hand skimming my lower back. “I booked the place for just us. I wanted you to be comfortable.”
A snort-like sound comes from my throat. “I prefer to blend in.”
“You couldn’t even if you tried.”
“I guess my cheap clothes stand out,” I mumble, looking down at my outfit.
He moves so fast my breath catches, placing his hand on my chin and angling my face to his. “No. Stop. That’s not what I meant. Stop talking down about yourself. I wish you could see the smart, sweet, and beautiful woman I see.” His eyes burn into mine with such intensity I feel like I might catch on fire.
The rawness in his words is palpable, and my heart beats faster in response.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t smart. I’d say I am, since I’ve been trying to stay away from you.”
“You can’t outrun me,” he says, stroking my cheek. “When I want something, I’m persistent until I get it.”
“You’re annoyingly persistent, and most times I just wished you’d shut up.” I smirk.
“There are other ways to shut me up.” His voice dips low as he leans forward.
“Mr. Lincoln,” a male voice interrupts.
I glance past his shoulder to see a server wearing an apron and flushed cheeks from interrupting us. We haven’t even sat down to have a drink and he’s already trying to kiss me… and I don’t know if I will be strong enough to fight this.
When it’s just us, and he’s sweet, it’s hard to keep my walls up. He's been slowly chipping away at them, proving to me he’s kind and intelligent. I see beyond his money now. Part of me believes he genuinely wants me. And because of that tonight, I plan to have fun.
“Yes?” Harvey says in a clipped tone, annoyed by the interruption. I bite my lip to hide a smile trying to escape my lips.
“Come this way. Your private table is ready.”
I stifle a laugh at the way the server emphasizes “private.” Something I should be worried about because being alone with Harvey is dangerous.
We follow the server, and I can’t tear my eyes away from the panoramic views of New York. It’s stunning and something I’ll remember forever. The black-and-white seats of the booths, candles lit up in the middle of every table, and fairy lights hanging throughout create a romantic setting.
We sit, and the server comes by to take our drink orders. “What kind of food do they serve here?”
“Mexican.”
I grin as I glance at the menu. “I love tacos.”
“So I take it you're happy now that I organized this?”
I tap my chin, pretending to think. “I’m surprised. It's this relaxing… and yet beautiful,” I admit, letting my eyes linger on him.
“What did you expect?”
I shrug. “Fancy, but not the uncomfortable kind.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You thought I’d be bougie?”
I nod, meeting his gaze with a teasing smile. “Yeah.”
“I can be if you want, but it’s not really my thing. And I guessed from the few times I’ve seen you that you like to let your hair down after work.”
“You mean my lazy attire.” I laugh.
“If you have lazy attire, so do I,” he replies with a smirk.
“I’ve never seen it,” I challenge with a raised eyebrow.
“I’ll make sure to show you,” he promises, leaning slightly closer, his grin teasing.
I don’t think he could look bad if he tried.
“But I’m not mad now that I lost. Your cake was better.”
“Yours just needed to come out a few minutes earlier, and you might have won.”
My gaze drops, and I feel the weight of a secret pressing down on me. I want to tell someone about the letter. He sits patiently, waiting for me to speak. The server brings our drinks and chips and salsa, then leaves.
“I got a letter from my ex… I ended up forgetting about the cake,” I confess.
The muscle in his jaw pulses, but he remains silent, giving me space to continue.
I sip my drink, savoring the strong tequila, before leaning back. “It’s the first time he’s reached out since he went to jail.”
Harvey straightens.
“What’s worse is that I had no idea he was using. He was the father of my child, and I trusted him. I thought he’d always look after me and his son,” I say, laughing, but it lacks humor.
“What was in the letter?” he asks, then quickly adds. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
I hesitate for a moment, then find myself speaking. “He said he’s been working on himself.” I pause, staring into Harvey’s eyes. “What is it about you that gets me saying things I wouldn’t share with anyone else?”
He gives me a warm, crooked smirk. “Maybe it’s because I’m an open book. I say it how it is.”
I nod, feeling lighter as I rest my hands on the table. “A take-it-or-leave-it attitude. I love it. I wish Chad could be that way.”
“He’s still young. He’ll get there, especially with you guiding him.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’m not responding to the letter, but I don’t want to throw it away in case Chad asks.”
Harvey nods, putting his hand on top of mine, understanding my predicament. “He didn’t deserve you and Chad. When Chad’s old enough to ask, I’d be honest.”
“He’s just made me so angry. He took all our money and got us into so much debt. I owe over three months of rent.” My eyes widen, and I cover my mouth at my outburst. He makes me feel comfortable that words just spill.
“Do you need?”
I drop my hand and shake my head. “Don’t even think about it. I want to pay back without owing you. You’re making it difficult…” I trail off, catching myself. I’m not going to date him.
“I’d say I’m sorry he betrayed you, but I’m not. I’m glad I can show you not all men treat women that way and that I can treat you the way you deserve.”
My cheeks burn, and I glance away, my fingers fidgeting with my glass. “Harvey,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’? Why what?”
“Why would you agree to spend dinner with me as the prize? Any other woman would love to be here.”
“Except you,” he adds with a playful smirk.
“I’m enjoying myself. It’s just hard to understand what you want from me.”
“There’s no hidden agenda.” His lips curve into a casual smile, but there’s an intensity in his eyes that makes my stomach flutter. “I’m attracted to you, and I think you’re attracted to me. We’re adults; why can’t we just have some fun?”
“I can have fun.”
“You said you used to be fun.”
He’s right. “I did.”
“Well, let yourself have fun with me. I promise not to let you down.”
The usual alarm bells that would ring through my body to say; I don’t believe him, aren’t there. It’s silent. Only desire floods my body.
Feeling my old self returning, I say, “Let’s have fun.”
He flashes me a wicked grin and waves down the server, ordering us a round of spicy margaritas.
“Have you heard from Danny?” he asks.
“No, he disappeared without a trace. I even contacted his friends, but no one knows where he went. I’ll need to hire a replacement before you leave because I can’t do this alone.”
“No, but you also can't be expected to be doing all the little tasks. You need to be managing,” he insists.
“Am I ready for a team?”
“Yes, you are. You’re so good at it. The baby shower this weekend will be amazing, and you already have Oliver's connections since you kicked ass at his event. No one has seen an event like it, and now they will want to be bigger and better, especially Liam.”
My stomach rolls at the mention of his name. “There’s something off about him.”
“Liam wants to sleep with you,” Harvey says, his voice flat in a way that sends a chill down my spine.
I scrunch up my face, repulsion evident in my expression. “He’s never getting that.”
Harvey’s lips curl into a knowing smile. “Good girl.”
As I reach for my new drink, my hand knocks the table, and the glass tips over, its contents spilling onto my sweater. The cold liquid seeps through the fabric, making me shudder.
Harvey laughs, a warm sound that contracts with the chill.
“You can’t take me anywhere nice.”
“I wish you aimed higher and not worn a bra,” he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement.
“Who says I am?” A playful smirk tugs at my lips.
His eyes widen, and I see them drop to my chest, where the wet fabric clings to my skin, outlining my curves. “Fuck. Are you kidding me?” Disbelief edges his tone.
His gaze locks with mine, filled with raw unspoken need.
I hide my smile behind my glass, softly shaking my head.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, adjusting himself, clearly affected. “Please, this place is ours, and they can’t see you. Only I can.”
For a moment, I imagine what it would be like if it was just the two of us, alone in a room, free from interruptions. If I gave in to this charged electricity, what would he do? How would he make me feel?
Loving the power I hold right now; I decide to push the boundaries. “Be a good boy and behave, and let’s see what happens later. I might give you a goodnight kiss.”
“I want more than a kiss,” he says, his voice a deep, husky growl, eyes dark with intent.
My mind imagines being brave enough and sitting on the table and telling him to crawl over and eat something else… Eat me.
“You’ll be lucky to get that. Don’t push, or I’ll give you nothing,” I warn, though my pulse races at the thought of more.
“I bet you’re all talk.” He leans in, looking at me like he could devour me. “I bet if I had you pinned underneath me, you’d be putty in my hands.”
Warmth blooms in my lower stomach at his words. “I guess we’ll never know, will we?”