Eleven – Harrison
ELEVEN
HARRISON
I hang back at baggage claim, watching Eliza’s every move.
She’s standing near a pole, chatting with her friend Janey on the phone, looking shockingly… shy.
Completely unaware that every man passing by does a not-so-subtle double-take.
Even in that awful terry-cloth Hello Kitty dress, she’s a damn vision.
As I take note of the way she bites her bottom lip—something she’ll definitely need to unlearn for business meetings—my phone buzzes.
Jackson.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Did y’all make it in okay?”
“We’re fine. I was going to text you once we got to the car.”
“Makes sense,” he says. “I, uh… I need another favor.”
“This is already a pretty big one.”
“It still falls under the same umbrella, I promise.” His voice shifts—lower, heavier. The easy laughter from earlier is gone.
“I’m renting out her suite while she’s away—helps me keep the barn’s lights on,” he says. “Just... don’t let her come home for breaks or anything. Keep her busy so she never finds out, okay?”
“Jackson, I can give you money for stuff like that,” I say. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Don’t ever offer me a dime again,” he snaps. “I haven’t hit rock bottom, and I don’t plan to—because you’re already helping me with what really matters. Got it?”
I don’t respond.
“Thanks, man.” He fills in the silence. “Tell Eliza to call me before she goes to bed.”
“Jackson…”
“I really appreciate it. Keep me posted. Bye.”
He hangs up before I can get a word in, and I spot Eliza stepping toward the baggage carousel. She slides a hand under the handle of her suitcase just as I walk over to take it from her.
“I could’ve sworn we covered this already,” I say. “Do I need to repeat the lesson?”
“No, it’s just a habit,” she replies. “I’ll try not to let it happen again, so please don’t spank me, Dad .”
“Is that your way of telling me you’re into a daddy kink?”
“What?” Her cheeks flush bright red. “I was being sarcastic.”
“I could try that for you if you’d like.”
“Seriously?” She narrows her eyes, still blushing.
“I parked downstairs.” I start rolling her luggage away before my thoughts spiral into places they definitely shouldn’t.
Eliza runs her hand along the wood grain inside my Audi as she gazes out the window.
Manhattan traffic crawls like always, but somehow, it feels good to be home.
“How do they live with all the constant noise and lights?” she murmurs. Not to me—just aloud, to herself.
A call comes through.
I can’t block it fast enough, and my system announces it anyway.
“Call from Never Answer: Batshit Crazy, ” it says. “Would you like to answer?”
“No, I would not,” I mutter.
“Answering the call,” it responds—completely ignoring me.
“Oh, so your phone does work now, Harrison?” Kristin—aka the last woman I ever dated—sounds just as bitter as the day I told her it was over.
“I didn’t mean to answer,” I say flatly.
“Then why not just block me if you hate me so much?”
Because the last time I did that, you showed up at my condo.
“I don’t hate you, Kristin,” I say. “Now’s not a good time for me, though.”
“I miss you,” she says. “And regardless of how badly things ended—most of it was your fault, by the way—I think we should meet up and talk. We were a moment, we were magic, we were?—”
“Toxic.” I interrupt her, refusing to let her rewrite our story with a rose-tinted pen.
“We were not . Your parents loved me.”
“They loved your family’s money,” I say. “They didn’t really know you.” Just like they don’t really know me.
“Well, I’ve had lunch with them every weekend this month. And they think it’s a great idea for us to get back together—especially with all the events they’re hosting this summer.”
“The fact that you think hanging out with my family is a selling point is exactly why we’re not together anymore,” I say. “I’ll pass.”
“I figured you’d say that.” She scoffs. “So I’ll wait until you get home. This conversation deserves an in-person touch.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m inside your condo, sitting in your living room,” she says. “See you whenever you get here.”
What the hell? “How did you get past Charlie?”
“He called in sick today.” There’s a smile in her voice. “Can’t wait to see you.”
I end the call far later than I should’ve.
“Sounds like you’re the one who needs lessons,” Eliza says, glancing at me with a smirk. “Want some help?”
I turn up the radio.