Chapter 6
Quinn
“ I always wanted a big family,” I tell Harlan’s sister, Savannah. “You know, lots of kids running around. A whole little band or soccer team.”
I immediately catch my foot in my mouth and wash it down with wine, realizing that I might’ve just implied a desire to have “lots of kids” with Harlan. You know, my lover.
I glance at him. He’s sitting next to me at the dinner table, watching me, and looking tense as ever. His jaw is doing that clenching thing.
This man needs a massage or something.
If he didn’t want me to bond with his sister, he really shouldn’t have provided so much wine. This is what women do. We bond over rosé.
“Well, how old are you, Darla?” Savannah asks me, sipping the rosé that she had the butler pull out from what I can only assume is some wine cave beneath this castle, after she asked me what I like to drink, and I told her that I’m a rosé all day type of girl.
“Thirty-one.”
“Plenty of time for kids, then,” she muses. “Just don’t wait too long, if you want that band.”
“Right. Better get on that,” I quip, feeling bubbly. Even the dark clouds gathering over the man next to me can’t dim my mood. Savi—as he calls her—and I are having a moment.
When he introduced me to his siblings, they all seemed to accept that my name is Darla, and we sat right down to dinner, quickly moving on to friendly conversation. His brothers are all gentlemen—way better manners than Harlan—and I find myself especially intrigued by his twin sister.
Maybe it’s all the wine, but Harlan’s family is kind of amazing.
His brothers are handsome, well-spoken, and intelligent, and Savannah is fabulous. She’s self-possessed, accomplished, and surprisingly cool.
She reminds me a bit of Dani, actually, except warmer and more voluptuous. And with dark hair and a massive fortune.
I shift the subject away from babies, though, so Harlan doesn’t have a cardiac event right next to me. His brothers are all listening to my conversation with Savannah, too. “What was it like growing up with Harlan?” I ask her, feeling his eyes scorching the side of my face. “I can’t really picture him as a little boy.”
“Well, aren’t you in luck. I happen to have a photo right here.” She slips a photo out of her wallet and hands it to me.
It’s a photo of four boys I can only assume are Harlan and his three brothers. They stand in a row, facing the camera, arms slung around one another, oldest to youngest. Graysen, the oldest and tallest, has his hand buried in Harlan’s hair, which is tousled into a dark froth. Harlan, maybe six years old, is grinning, his eyes pinched into happy slits.
They’re all smiling. Damian appears to be in the middle of laughing.
It looks like happy chaos.
“You carry this around? Why?”
A small smile hooks the corner of Savannah’s mouth. “Because I love them.”
“Oh.” My cheeks heat. “Of course.” What a dumb question. I’d just wondered if there was some funny story there.
“And it reminds me not to murder them when they piss me off,” she adds.
I smile and hand the photo back to her. “Brothers must be fun.”
“Oh, they’re something.” She tucks the photo back into her wallet. ”You don’t have any?”
“No. No sisters, either.”
“I always wondered what it would be like to be an only child. Hard to imagine when you’re smack in the middle of five, and a twin, too.”
“Overrated,” I tell her wistfully. “I always wondered what it would be like to have lots of siblings.”
“Overrated,” she says, and we each take a sip of our wine, smiling at one another.
I like her.
A lot.
“What about your parents? Are they cool?” I lean in and lower my voice. “Or chilly like Harlan?”
She glances at him, and her smile turns nostalgic. “He wasn’t always chilly.”
“I’m sitting right here,” he mutters.
Savannah ignores him. “What can I tell you? They wanted great things for us. They loved us the best way they knew how. They screwed up. We still loved them.” She laughs shortly.
“Sounds like most families I know.”
“Yeah.” Her smile fades. “Dad died when Harlan and I were fourteen. In a helicopter accident. Mom remarried shortly after. She lives just outside of Paris. So, it’s really just the five of us now.”
“Oh… I’m so sorry. I know what it’s like to lose your dad. I lost mine when I was seven. He also died suddenly. He was a tree cutter, and there was an accident at work.”
Savannah softens. “I’m sorry, too. I think that might be worse…? Not getting a chance to really know him…”
“I remember him, a bit. But not much. I have all these stories my mom has told me, and now I don’t know which parts are my own memories and what are the parts I’ve heard from her. The way she tells it, he was some kind of superhero. I think she wants me to remember him that way, but I have no way of knowing how much she made up.”
Savannah takes that in. Her eyes flick to Harlan, who seems to be listening intently.
“I think Mom did something similar,” she says. “It’s how they cope. Can you imagine having to walk your children through the grief of losing their father, then have the hard talks that come when they find out he wasn’t a saint? Wouldn’t it be tempting to just put him up on a pedestal and be done with it?”
I get what she’s saying. Mom did that, for sure.
But there’s something sad in her tone.
“Who knew we’d have so much in common,” I joke.
“Who knew,” she says kindly. And she doesn’t seem like she’s joking. She gazes at me thoughtfully. “And who knew my brother had such great taste in women.”
“Oh, wow. Thank you.”
“Please. You should see the one he brought home last time. That was years ago. God, what was her name?”
“Chelsea,” Jameson supplies.
“Yes. That bitch.”
“Savannah. We’re at the dinner table,” Graysen says seriously.
“Oh, you know she was,” Savannah says. “The way she screwed with Harlan?—”
“We’re not here to talk about that,” Harlan says tightly.
“Okay, listen,” Savannah says to me, unbothered. “I don’t think anyone should butt into someone else’s love life?—”
“Right,” Harlan grouches, throwing back wine.
Savannah ignores him. “I don’t have much time, or much patience, for a love life myself. But Harlan’s been existing just this side of Hermitville for too long now.” As she speaks, I can feel the cloud cover next to me growing black. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting worried about him. After what happened with that bitch?—”
“Savannah,” Harlan growls.
She ignores him again. “It’s been quite a while now that he’s been telling me, every time I ask him when he’s going to leave his house and start seeing someone, that he’s been ‘holding out for Darla.’ But he’s always so private, I couldn’t get anything more out of him. Who is this Darla woman who’s seized my brother’s attention? He just seemed so obsessed with you. That’s all I’m trying to say. And now, I can understand why.”
“Thank you,” I say again. I know I’m seriously blushing, which is ridiculous, because I’m not even Darla. I’m not the actual object of Harlan’s attention or obsession.
“Honestly, I kind of thought he was full of shit,” she goes on. “You know, making you up, just to get us off his back. But maybe he really was waiting for you. ”
“Well… that’s sweet.” I’m getting nervous now, because everyone’s attention has converged on me. Like, no one is even eating anymore. “And really, the obsession is totally mutual.”
That’s the right thing to say, right?
So why does it feel like there’s a storm about to break right next to me?
“Really?” Savannah looks intrigued.
“Of course. Harlan is…”
I try not to look at him. I can’t. I don’t even need to. It’s eerie how I’ve already memorized the angles of his face. I can even guess the look in his eyes right now. I can feel it. It’s the same dark intensity with which he stared me down at Velvet.
“… deeper than you think. He’s so attentive, so thoughtful, and he takes care of everything, so I don’t have to worry about it.” I mean, it’s true enough, from what I’ve gleaned of him so far. If slightly exaggerated. “He’s generous, and he just makes me feel special, you know?”
It’s easy enough to describe a man I don’t really know, actually. I think I just described the man I really wanted Justin to be.
When no one speaks, and Damian and Jameson exchange a look I can’t quite interpret, I feel the need to fill the empty space immediately and exuberantly.
“From the first moment we met, he was just such a gentleman.” Okay, now I’m laying it on thick. “How could I not want to spend my time with him? He’s amazing.”
Am I getting too into character here? I mean, I’m even starting to believe myself.
Savannah looks surprised, but amused. “You’ll have to excuse us if we seem shocked,” she says. “We actually call Harlan ‘the beast.’ On account of how warm and friendly he totally isn’t.”
Well, yikes. I can see that.
Maybe she’s never seen any of the qualities I just mentioned in her twin. But she’s his sister, not his lover.
Am I overselling this?
“So tell us, Darla,” Graysen says. “How do you spend your time?”
“And now that we’re finished eating,” Savannah tells me, “this is the part where Graysen requests your resume. But don’t let him intimidate you. He’s not as difficult to impress as he seems.”
“He is, actually,” Jameson says, but smiles at me. He’s been friendly, not flirty like Harlan warned, and I get the distinct feeling there’s some sort of rivalry between the two of them. Between all of them, really.
“That’s okay.” I glance at Damian, who hasn’t mentioned seeing me at Velvet. Maybe he doesn’t recognize me? “I’m happy to tell you anything about myself that you want to know. I make cakes,” I tell Graysen. “I actually brought one for all of you, for dessert. My big dream is to own my own bakery one day. In the meantime, I work full-time at a bakery as a baker and cake decorator, and sometimes I waitress for extra money. Recently, I started working at Velvet Lounge.”
Graysen frowns.
“I was wondering when Harlan might mention that,” Damian says slowly. “I thought I recognized you. You were there when we were at Velvet the other night.”
“Oh, he was just worried about what you all might think,” I offer quickly.
Why is Graysen frowning like that?
Is it just me, or is the whole vibe in the air changing?
“This is why you didn’t want us to meet Darla?” Savannah asks Harlan, looking slightly concerned. “Because she works for us?”
“Isn’t it interesting.” Damian’s eyes twinkle in a way that I’m not sure how to take, though an uncomfortable feeling is gathering in my gut. “She’s an employee.” The way he looks at Harlan, like a cunning cat with a juicy mouthful of canary, makes my stomach turn.
Uh-oh. Is this bad?
Yes. Judging by the displeased look on Graysen’s face, it’s very, very bad.
“Um, only for a few weeks now,” I say quickly.
“So, we hired her well after you started sleeping with her?” Damian ventures, looking amused. “What a relief.”
“Damian,” Savannah warns as Harlan slides his chair back, getting to his feet.
What’s happening??
“It was definitely after.” I glance nervously at Harlan. “I mean…”
“Let’s get that cake.” Harlan takes me by the elbow, guiding me to my feet. “I’ll help you.” He ushers me through a door, the one his staff have been using to serve us all night, and down a long hall—then pushes me gently up against the wall.
“What was that?” he demands in a low voice.
“What?!” I whisper-shout. “I panicked. I didn’t know what to say! Why didn’t you jump in? You said you’d take care of it if Damian recognized me.”
“How could I? You answered so fast.”
“When was I supposed to say we started sleeping together?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just stop talking so much.”
“You told me to say whatever!”
“I didn’t tell you to talk incessantly.”
“How can I not? You never say anything!”
He glowers. “How can anyone get a word in when you chatter away all the time, telling everyone your entire life story?”
“I barely told them anything. And you told me to answer their questions!”
“Correct, I said answer . Yes, no. How hard is that?”
“Well, how does anyone get to know anyone if all they supply is yes or no answers?”
“They don’t need to know you. They just need to believe you.”
I take a frustrated breath. “And do they believe me now that I totally stumbled over answering the simple question of how long we’ve been seeing each other?”
“It’s fine. I’ll just tell them you’re nervous because you know that I’ve been hiding our relationship, and you didn’t know what you were supposed to say. They’ll just think you’re covering for me. They’ll believe me.” He adds distractedly, wandering away into his calculating brain, “This isn’t exactly the first time I’ve kept something from them.”
“Well, I’m not used to lying. It feels weird lying to my employers, who I happen to like. Savannah’s cool. ”
Harlan refocuses on me. I’m breathing hard.
And we’re standing really, really close.
Alone.
“I’m sorry.” I try to calm down. “I choked. Damian just seems really interested that I’m an employee. Is it a problem that I work for you?”
“Yes. But it doesn’t matter,” he adds, when I press my hands to my face in panic. “Because our relationship is over after tonight.”
“Maybe it doesn’t matter to you. But are your siblings going to fire me now?”
“No. Quit panicking.”
“Easy for you to say! You’re a billionaire. And you still get a paycheck whether or not they believe your lies tonight.”
Something dark and unreadable passes over his features. “It’s just one little lie, Quinn. And it’ll soon be over.”
My heart is pounding. I take another breath to steady myself. He seems so calm. Irritated with me and my “performance” as his lover, but calm.
“They believe you,” he says firmly. “You’re overthinking it.”
I press my eyes shut. “Okay.”
I feel him as he shifts even closer to me; his body is surprisingly hot.
Just breathe.
“Your job is secure. You have to trust me.”
“Okay.”
“If it comes to it, I’ll protect you.” He adds in a dark voice, “No one touches what’s mine.”
Oh, god.
In a lower voice, he says, “I’m going to touch you now.”
My eyes fly open. “Wh-why?”
“Someone’s coming.”
I hear the approaching footsteps as he wraps a warm, strong hand around the side of my neck, and cups my jaw with his thumb. He touches me like he’s already claimed every inch of my body.
The reaction between my legs is extreme and immediate.
“W-wait. Okay. I just don’t think we should?—”
“Stop. Talking.” His lips are at my ear, his words low and soft. Velvety liquid chocolate, pouring over my senses and down my spine, right to my?—
“But—”
Then his lips seal over mine, hot and demanding, and the world goes dark.