Chapter Two
“How is my mouth still on fire?”
I ask five hours after the worst corn dog experience of my life, and yes, it is sad that I rate them. Being friends with a woman who loves street food can be an adventure at times.
Not that Ivy is the only reason I often eat like crap. I work in construction. We eat a lot of street food.
I prefer the times when I’m doing a quiet reno. I bring my own lunch and sit in the house I’m working on and think about how I’m making someone’s home better.
I don’t want to admit it, won’t admit it out loud, but Reid is right about the normal construction work I do being different. It’s necessary, but I don’t love it the way I do renovations. I don’t get to do them often. There’s a lot of administrative work involved in running a company. Even a family one.
“Your mouth is on fire because you lost the game,”
Ivy points out.
I wasn’t aware lunch was a game. I’m losing at all the games today. We’re sitting in my apartment, the whole gang having come over for pizza—that did not include ghost peppers but did have cheese.
“I can’t believe you ate it,”
Heath says with a shake of his head.
“She was pissed off at the time,”
Ivy explains. She called her fiancé over when we left for the day.
I managed to avoid Reid Dorsey the rest of the afternoon. Mostly because I had to take a couple of hours off to run to a job site and deal with a picky client. And yes, it was a grocery store in Jersey. But a nice one. Still, I didn’t say a word to anyone about what a massive ass Reid Dorsey is. I’m waiting for the right time. “Why would you say I was upset? Also, why would that make me try a weird corn dog?”
Anika takes that one. “When you are angry, you tend to say yes to anything that might vaguely be seen as a challenge. And you see everything as a challenge when you get into that head space.”
I can be prickly, but they don’t know I was angry this afternoon. “I wasn’t mad.”
“Also, I totally overheard you talking to Reid Dorsey,”
Ivy admits.
Or they did.
“What happened?”
Anika sits up in her chair, eyes on me.
I’ve been thinking about this all afternoon. How to talk to my bestie gently. Ani has a lot of stress right now. She’s starting a brand-new business, planning a royal wedding, and getting ready to lead a country. Hearing that she made a poor choice when hiring Reid Dorsey is probably the last thing she needs. So I have to be gentle. Subtle. “That man is a massive ass.”
Maybe not so subtle.
“Ah, so this is what he meant when he said he’d met you and didn’t make the best impression.”
Ani puts down her slice of quattro formaggi. “I thought maybe he mistook you for a production assistant and asked you for coffee or something. You wouldn’t get upset about that. I should have known. What did he do? Did he hit on you?”
I wanted him to hit on me. At first. Then he opened his gorgeous, stupid mouth. “Yes, but that didn’t bug me. The man is hot. But he doesn’t think a girl can be a contractor, apparently.”
Not fair, but I’m not feeling fair. I’m feeling…restless and a little mean. I can’t stop thinking about that man, and not in a good way.
“Uh, seriously?”
Ivy’s eyes narrow on me.
Shouldn’t my friends let me be a heinous bitch when I feel the need? Not mine. They call me out when I’m overstating things. So unfair. “Fine. He didn’t know I’m the contractor and all he knew were the initials. He thought HR Ross was a man, and he doesn’t like my construction business. He said my grocery stores are blights on the city.”
Ani looks back to Ivy for confirmation.
Ivy shrugs and sits back. “He didn’t use the word blight, but it was kind of implied. He was a bit on the dickish side. But I think it’s mostly because he wants to use this other guy he knows.”
“How much eavesdropping did you do today?”
Heath asks, though he merely looks curious. I think Heath is endlessly amused by Ivy.
“It’s a hobby,”
Ivy admits. “I definitely did enough to know that Reid was totally into Harper. He talked to his brother later in the day and said how was he supposed to know that someone that hot was a construction worker. He thought she was a model or something. You know, a model working her way into reality TV. I don’t think he knows how that industry operates. Also, Jeremiah talked to someone named Lenny. Jeremiah told him he didn’t think they would be able to get him on the show because there was already a contractor, but Reid said he would work on it.”
That gets my eyebrows rising. “He’s going to work on getting rid of me.”
“I’m not getting rid of anyone,”
Anika assures me.
“Maybe we should get rid of Reid,”
I offer since it seems like the best idea ever. “We can keep the brother. He’s at least got a brain.”
Anika’s head shakes. “There is no Dorsey brothers without Reid. He’s kind of the leader. Jeremiah does a lot of the artistic work, but Reid moves them along. At least that’s how they describe it. Harper, I can’t get rid of him. I signed a contract. If I fire him for anything other than a gross violation, I owe him a lot of money. Money I’m supposed to use to rebuild my new country.”
“How much are you paying him?”
I probably don’t want to know. I know how much I’m getting, and it’s not much. But then I’m new, and she’s taking a chance with me.
Anika bites her bottom lip.
I’m putting her in a terrible position. “You don’t owe me that. I’m sorry I asked. I get it. This guy brings in viewers, and you need viewers.”
I hate the thought of this. I don’t want to say these words because I’ve dreamed of this house since I was sixteen years old. “Maybe I should step out.”
“Absolutely not,”
Anika replies with a frown. “This doesn’t happen without you. I need you to find a way to get along with Reid. It makes me sad. I thought he was nice.”
Heath holds up a hand. “I am going to get into serious trouble for saying this.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t,”
Ivy counters. “Unless you’re going to say the whole ‘maybe Harper’s being too sensitive about her grocery stores’ thing so I don’t have to say it. Because she can be mean.”
Heath sighs. “I was going to be nicer about it.”
I’m not mean. “He was an asshole.”
“He was not perfect,”
Ivy concedes. “He wants his own guy in. Does that sound like anyone you know?”
Again with the calling me out when she could simply let me have this one. Sometimes I long for those years when Ivy wasn’t concerned about anything but her coding. “Fine. I did want my friend in. I learned a lot from her. He was an elitist asshole, but it’s not like I’ve never worked with one of those before.”
“He’s nervous because it’s his first time back in front of the camera in over a year. We all want to bring in our own people,”
Anika says. “I want to bring in my hairdresser. You know Mandi from that salon over in the Bronx. But there’s some kind of royal hairdresser, and I have to hold up tradition and stuff. I’ve been told no glitter. It makes me sad. I look good with some glitter.”
Like I said. Real stress. “I will try hard to get along with him.”
“Once he sees the kind of work you can do, he’ll be thrilled to have you on the team.”
Anika pours herself another glass of wine.
I’m not so sure of that, but I put a brave face on. “I’ll watch some of his show and try to get a feel for his design work. We’ll be fine.”
I can lie. I can also work with people I don’t necessarily like. I do it all the time. Pretty much every time I go into the office.
Anika breathes an obvious sigh of relief and squeezes my hand. “Thank you. I actually kind of thought the two of you would get along. You would make the cutest couple.”
“Absolutely not.”
Heath takes a drag off his beer. “Emma thinks you would be good together.”
I turn to Ivy and hope that the daggers I am sending her with my eyes get my point across. “What did you do?”
Emma is the artificial intelligence program Ivy and Heath have been working on for the last year. It’s what brought them together in the first place. Heath’s grandmother was an old-school matchmaker in Little Italy. They trained the AI on her methods of finding compatibility. And one of the things they did to train her was have all of their friends fill out Lydia’s forms. For practice, of course.
Ivy doesn’t bother to look guilty. “What I always do when we meet a gorgeous guy with his very own three thousand square foot Upper East Side apartment. I convince him it’s a good idea to help me with a project and then I run him against you and try to find a way to accidently introduce you.”
“How many times have you done this?”
I’m utterly horrified, and now I’m wondering about all those times I ran into some guy who also happened to know Ivy. I kind of thought she knew them from her tech guru goddess days. And that is precisely why I turned them down when they asked me out. I avoid tech bros.
“Just a couple,”
Ivy replies. “It’s a surprisingly small pool.”
“I told you we should also start looking at guys with a little less cash on hand,”
Heath argues.
“She has expensive tastes.”
Anika bites back a laugh. “So how did Reid do on the compatibility scale? Also, how did you get him to fill it out?”
“Oh, I lied and said it was part of the contract. The good news is most people don’t actually read their contracts. He thought it was super weird but did it anyway. I also have his brother’s file, but he is not of the same persuasion,”
Ivy explains. “I do have some thoughts about him, but I’m going to hold on to them. I want to see him in action.”
“How in the hell are we compatible? Has Emma lost her damn mind?”
There is zero way I match with that erudite jerk.
“Emma’s mind is excellent, thank you.”
Heath looks a bit offended.
Ivy seems to study me for a moment. “Do you really want to know? Or do you want to just loathe him? It’s a valid choice.”
“I think loathe is the way to go.”
There’s a buzz from the intercom, letting me know someone is at the door to the building. Except almost everyone I care about is right here. I get up and answer it.
“Hey, I’m looking for Harper Ross,”
a masculine voice says.
“Who am I speaking with?”
I’m not dating anyone, nor have I ordered anything.
There’s a hesitation. “Uhm, it’s Jeremiah Dorsey, and I promise you a hot chocolate if you come down and talk to me. I’ll make it a good one.”
Every eye is suddenly on me. Ani’s brows rise as though challenging me to do the right thing.
“You can bring him up here,”
Ivy offers. “We have plenty of pizza.”
Heath frowns her way and grabs another slice. “Speak for yourself.”
No. If I bring him up here, he’ll chat, and I need to know what he wants. “I’ll be down in a minute.”
I grab my hoodie.
“He’s a nice guy,”
Anika says, looking almost worried.
“I’m not going to blow anything up,”
I promise. “He wants to talk, we’ll talk. Unless you think they’re both down there.”
Heath is at the window, staring down. “Looks like there’s only one guy. He’s got sandy hair. Oh, hey. And he’s waving.”
Reid Dorsey would never wave at people.
“It’ll be fine, Ani.”
I hope she knows I would rather quit than hurt her project.
I make quick work of the stairs since the elevator only functions about half the time. When I hit the lobby, I’m ready to get this confrontation over with.
I step outside and Jeremiah Dorsey is there wearing a smart-looking jacket and the outfit he had on earlier. He’s paired it with a tartan scarf that makes him appear like he’s modeling a fall look. “Hey.”
He makes me feel like I should dress better.
He gives me a brilliant smile. Like a light up Broadway smile. This man was made for TV. “Harper. It’s good to see you again.”
He points down the street. “The hot chocolate place is right down there. They have peppermint mini marshmallows.”
I’ve had enough of street vendors for the day. “I’ll pass. What did you need?”
He winces. “Well, I knew you were pissed. Was it the way he hit on you? Or the whole grocery stores are beneath him thing. They’re not, you know. He goes into them often. He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s human and has the need to cook from time to time. He’s quite good at it.”
“I’m sure he’s a gourmet cook. He probably went to that blue place in Paris.”
“Le Cordon Bleu?”
Naturally his French accent is perfect. “Not at all. He didn’t learn to cook in culinary school. He learned it from YouTube because our father liked to screw the nanny and we often went without lunch if Reid didn’t make something. His grilled chicken is why I survived middle school.”
Oh, now I know why he’s here. “I’m not going to like your brother.”
“You don’t have to. But we are going to be working together.”
“Are we? Or are you trying to bring in someone named Lenny?”
Jeremiah snaps his fingers. “I knew Ivy wasn’t hanging out for fun. I tried to explain to my brother that she’s a ruthless tech queen, but he’s not that great with a computer. Reid spends almost all his time reading or working on his projects, none of which involve artificial intelligence.”
“I’m sure he reads historical nonfiction and books about art.”
“He likes science fiction.”
Jeremiah is studying me, and he’s lost that high-wattage smile of his. “He does love art, though. He spends an awful lot of time at MoMA and the Met. He finds inspiration there. His projects include knitting. I’m trying to convince him it’s okay to knit on set. He was in an accident a couple of years ago, and his hands were injured pretty badly. One of the physical therapists told him knitting might help his dexterity. I think he finds it soothing, but he’s got that masculine thing going.”
I love to knit. I find it infinitely soothing. My grandmother taught me, and she’d said anytime I felt like the world was out of control, I could sit down and find a quiet place in my soul and make something beautiful. “I’m sorry to hear that. The accident, I mean. The knitting, well, I enjoy it, too. I’m not great at it, but I can make a scarf. I do it mostly to calm my brain. I can overthink things. I don’t think there’s anything inherently unmasculine about enjoying making something. But then I work with a hammer and nails and still think I can be feminine.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Lenny’s been a friend for years. When we ended our show, he lost his job. My brother is trying to find a way to help him out. Reid can be standoffish at first.”
“He didn’t seem to be standoffish until he knew he was going to have to work with me.”
Jeremiah’s eyes narrow. “So it’s about him being smarmy.”
He hadn’t been. “He was… I don’t mind that he asked me to lunch. Look, it’s been pointed out to me that I might have overreacted. I’ll send you some pictures of the renos I’ve done. I’ve been in the business since I was a kid. I can fix pretty much anything. My father didn’t get the son he wanted so he settled for me. Our fun activities included fixing dishwashers and installing toilets and drywall.”
“It sounds like you don’t like it.”
I shake my head because that’s not the case at all. “I do. I like looking at this building people use every day and knowing I made that. But I love the artistic part of renovation and restoration. And I’ve loved Banover Place since I was a kid. It represents something for me. My hopes. My dreams. Getting to work on it, to bring it back to life so there’s a family in it again, it feels like being a part of something special. So I didn’t like the idea that I don’t belong on the team.”
His expression goes soft, and he reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I am so sorry we made you feel that way, Harper. I don’t have any excuses or explanations. The fact that you felt marginalized is the only thing that matters. I sincerely hope you can forgive us.”
I hate the whole huggy, emotional thing. He’s gotten me to admit what truly bugged me, how vulnerable I felt. Until this moment I thought I was mad.
Mad sometimes is easier than hurt. Mad often masquerades as fear. Fear that I’m not enough. That I’m going to fail.
Maybe I’m getting older and wiser. Maybe Jeremiah is one of those people who brings out the best in the people around him. No matter the reason, saying the truth out loud kind of frees something in me. “Yeah, of course. And I don’t have my crew filled out yet. Most of the guys who work for me prefer the big jobs. They make more. I’ve got a couple of women who know a lot about the time period, but I could use someone with experience.”
“Really?”
Jeremiah breathes a big sigh. “You would do that? Lenny’s great.”
This is probably a huge mistake. “He’s got to understand that I’m the boss. Reid can’t try to use him to get around me.”
Jeremiah looks positively giddy. “He won’t. He’s a genuinely lovely man. He’s older and he’s having a hard time finding work. Oh, Harper, thank you so much. I’m sorry it went sideways today. Reid’s upset about it, too, but he takes some time to process. You should probably expect flowers tomorrow. Gifts are how he apologizes.”
I actually feel better. “I prefer cookie bouquets.”
“I’ll let him know,”
Jeremiah replies, and there’s something infinitely comfortable about him.
I like him. A lot. It makes me want to give his brother another shot. Not in a “date me”
way. In a “we can work together without killing each other”
way. “I’ll send you some examples of the work I’ve done. The reno and restoration work. I volunteer with a historical society from time to time and learned from some masters. Last year I restored a spiral staircase in a Brooklyn brownstone dating back to the mid-nineteenth century.”
“I would love to see that,”
Jeremiah replies. “I’d send you some of our work, but you’ve probably seen it.”
I wince.
His eyes widen. “Seriously?”
I shrug. “I prefer Real Housewives. But I’ll look it up and watch a couple of episodes.”
“Let me know if you want company for that.”
He looks up at the building. “I can tell you all the background stories. Well, I know you have friends over. I’ll let you get back to them.”
For some reason, I get the feeling he’s lonely. And I can put Ani’s fears to rest with one kind gesture. “How do you feel about pizza? Let me warn you, you might have to fight a hungry coder for the meat lovers.”
He offers me his arm like he’s an old-school gentleman. “I think I can handle it.”
We walk up the stairs, and I think I might have made a friend.