4. Harper
Harper
Leaning over the sink, I use my hands to splash some water on my face. The coldness shocks my system enough to breathe a little easier. Fuck. Just breathe . I tell myself because I’m on the verge of having a panic attack.
He just reminds me so much of… him . He is about the same age, similar build, with beady eyes.
It’s not him. He can’t hurt me anymore.
I close my eyes and try to get my erratic breathing under control. I can’t let them see me like this. Blinking my eyes back open, I look at myself in the mirror. I’m not that scared little girl anymore, and I need to stop acting like one.
Taking a paper towel from the stack, I dry my hands and pat my face. I’ve been in here for a few minutes now, and I need to return to the table before one of them comes looking for me.
Gathering myself, I straighten my spine and hold my head high as I exit the bathroom and make my way back to the table. I’m about to take my seat next to Dawson when Richard holds his hand out and orders me to stop.
“Why don’t you come sit with me, angel?” Richard coos, making me gag a little.
I plaster a wide smile on my face. “Thank you, but I’m fine?—”
“Harper, don’t be rude,” Dawson warns. “Sit on the other side.”
I don’t know who I’m angrier with. Dawson, Richard, or myself for being such a pushover.
I take the seat next to Richard, feeling disgusted just being in close proximity to him.
Everything inside of me tells me to get away from this guy.
Instead, I grind my molars and get the iPad set up to take notes.
“I hope you don’t mind; I ordered you some champagne,” Richard says when the waitress appears with drinks.
“Thank you, but I’m not old enough to drink,” I explain, hoping he will leave it at that.
“Oh, they don’t care here,” Richard replies, lifting up the flute to hand it to me.
“I don’t think I should be drinking while I work,” I try again, to no avail.
“He doesn’t care either, isn’t that right, Dawson?”
I glance at my stepbrother, hoping he will at least take my side on this, but Dawson only wears an amused look on his face. “Have at it. I don’t mind.”
“There you go. You’re all in the clear. Here, drink,” Richard orders, holding the flute now directly in my face.
With a fake smile, I take the glass from him and take a small sip. At least I try to. Richard tips the flute up, so I’m forced to drink more. My mouth fills with the bubbly, bitter liquid before I swallow it at once. It lands heavily on my empty stomach.
I can hardly focus on the meeting I’m supposed to be paying attention to. I don’t even know if that meeting is happening anymore, if I’m being honest. What could these two possibly be here to discuss?
For my first day on the job, this doesn’t bode well. I’m momentarily distracted, thinking of some kind of way out of this situation. Do I really want to go to art school that badly?
Of course, the answer is yes. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and it’s within my reach. I just don’t know how I’m going to put up with Dawson and these disgusting antics for so long.
Richard leans forward, taking a sip of his own champagne and looking at Dawson before letting his eyes fall back on me with a hungry grin. My stomach twists, and I feel like I’m about to puke up the champagne he practically forced down my throat.
A slimy hand lands on my knee, and I jerk it away instinctively, every cell in my body on edge sitting next to him.
I look over at Dawson, silently pleading with him to say something.
I know he barely knows me, and this is something he wants as much as I do, which is not at all, but he’s my stepbrother.
That might not mean anything to him, but maybe he could show me a single shred of decency.
He doesn’t raise his eyes from the menu.
I scooch away from Richard, watching as his eyes light up. He knows I don’t want him, but he doesn’t care. He’s the kind of man who gets off on the chase. From everything I know about men, guys like him are dangerous. My mom’s dated enough of them for me to know that.
“Shall we begin the meeting?” I ask, unable to hide the quivering in my voice. I straighten myself in the seat, holding the iPad in front of me and trying to force a professional facade. The last thing I need is Dawson complaining about how I handled myself here today.
Richard reluctantly looks away from me and pays attention to Dawson as he sets the menu down. “It’s never good to rush business,” Dawson says, folding his hands and his lap and smiling at Richard.
A server comes and takes our orders. Both Richard and Dawson order expensive pasta dishes with lobster and glasses of white wine on the side.
Because the billionaire I am forced to work for is too stingy to pay for my work meals, I have to go for the cheapest item on the menu.
A plain Caesar salad with no chicken—and absolutely no nutritional value considering it’s just romaine lettuce with croutons.
Even the cheapest thing on the menu is going to leave a big hole in my wallet.
Richard and Dawson make small talk as we wait for our food, and I sit patiently beside them, trying to ignore all the glances Richard sends my way. He places a hand on the bench between us, and I watch as it creeps closer with each passing second.
The food finally arrives, and I am, of course, disappointed with my meal. Both of them have incredible, delicious-looking plates of carbs in front of them, and I’m stuck eating like a model before fashion week. At least my mom would be proud.
“I haven’t seen you at Clear View recently,” Richard says with his mouth full of buttery bread dipped in pasta sauce.
“Well, I’ve been traveling abroad to meet with clients face to face and establish some new connections,” Dawson explains, politely wiping his mouth with a napkin.
Dawson might be a complete and total asshole, but compared to Richard, he’s at least not a disgusting asshole.
“I’ll have to visit sometime soon. I need to catch up with you and all the other members. ”
They’re of course talking about Clear View Country Club.
I personally haven’t been, but that’s where my mom met Henry and this whole nightmare began.
After stepdad number three won the divorce settlement because of Mom’s affair with the gardener, we weren’t left with a lot of money.
Thankfully for her, her name still carries some weight in this Godforsaken town.
She hasn’t been in a single movie, TV show, or even a commercial since the 90s, but her teenage beauty status means there are plenty of “Where Are They Now” clickbait articles written about her.
It keeps her somewhat relevant, anyway. Mom needed a new meal ticket, and she managed to schmooze her way into Clear View at the exact right moment because Henry was there, and the moment she saw him, she sunk her claws deep.
Now I’m here being ogled by the most disgusting man I’ve ever seen in my entire life while she gets to sunbathe by an infinity pool. Tell me how that’s fair?
“Did you get to take your lovely assistant with you abroad?” Richard asks, his gaze landing on me once again. He flashes a greasy smile at me, and my skin crawls.
“Harper is new.” Dawson smiles back at him and takes a bite of his food.
“Is that so?” Richard leans back and smiles at me, licking his lips with hunger in his eyes.
“First day on the job, actually,” Dawson continues.
Richard laughs and reaches a hand out for my shoulder to squeeze it.
It feels like a heavy, limp noodle being left on me, and I want to shake it off and run away.
Actually, I would love to take the champagne in front of me and pour it in his eyes, but that definitely won’t go well.
Art school will be flushed down the drain because I’ll be fired immediately.
“Then I suppose she needs someone to show her the ropes of this business, doesn’t she?” Richard raises an eyebrow and reluctantly pulls his hand away from me, but not before letting it slide down my back just a bit. “I would love to take you to dinner tonight and let you pick my brain.”
I don’t need to be a mind reader to know exactly what he’s thinking. I’m a young, na?ve girl new to this world of absolute sharks. In his head, anyone would be lucky to get an offer like this. He must think I’ll be frothing at the mouth for a chance to sleep my way up the chain.
“I appreciate the offer, but I really shouldn’t.” I shake my head and offer him a polite smile, not wanting to offend him. You never want to offend a man like Richard. That’s bound to go horribly. “I don’t want to waste too much of your time.”
“I promise it’s not a problem for me at all.” Richard leans closer, once again putting his hand on my thigh and squeezing it. “It’s always such a pleasure to help the new generation. Especially when they’re as ravishing as you are.”
“I think I’ll have to work tonight, anyway.
” I look at Dawson and silently plead with him to help me.
There’s no doubt in my mind that he can see the fear on my face, and I want to crawl out of my skin.
He’s already torturing me for an entire year; the least he can do is step up and get me out of this.
“I think that’ll be a lovely idea,” Dawson says with a grin that makes my heart sink to my stomach. “You can never have too much experience in an industry like this. Richard knows what he’s doing. A lot of people would be lucky to be in your shoes.”
“So that settles it then,” Richard says, clapping his hands together. He looks at me and licks his lips, leaving a sheen of saliva on them that makes my stomach curdle. “I’ll send a car to pick you up this evening.”
There’s no use fighting against it. What Richard expects on this date is clear. Dawson knows that as much as I do.
The two of them finally start talking about business, and I try to forget about the sleazy man beside me while I take some notes.
By the time lunch is over, Richard is hugging both of us goodbye, lingering on me a little too long. His hand drops to my lower back and grazes my ass. I back away quickly and stand behind Dawson as we prepare to leave.
When we’re in the limo, Dawson turns to me with a shit-eating grin that I wish I could smack off his face.
“You can’t make me go out with him,” I say, the anger and frustration spilling over in my voice. “I’m not doing it.”
“Actually, not going would be a breach of your contract, so you will go out with him tonight. Richard is a big client we can’t afford to lose, so you’re going to make sure he’s happy no matter what, capiche?”
His face is stoic and emotionless, which makes this pill go down even harder. Henry is an asshole, so I should have expected Dawson would be one too. But how could someone care about the people in their life so little?
I fold my arms across my chest and turn to the window, knowing there’s no way for me to argue my way out of this. If I have to go on a date with Richard, so be it. But if he tries something, I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop myself from breaking his nose.
Later that day, when we get home, I rush to my room, immediately looking through my wardrobe for something to wear tonight.
I’m not going to give him anything to stare at.
I find a baggy sweater and some loose-fitting overalls that I like to wear when I’m painting.
I slip both of them on and wait in my room, careful not to run into Dawson for the rest of the day, then leave when the car is outside to pick me up.
Thankfully, Richard isn’t in it, but I know I’ll have to see him soon enough.