Chapter 5
Chapter Five
HARPER
W aking up with a start, my face is wet with tears, my whole body soaked with sweat.
Shit, I haven’t had these dreams for so long that it makes me want to vomit at the thought of being right back at square one.
My mind runs over the same old things as I remember every part of the dream which became my nightmare last night.
“Daddy!” I run to the front door as I hear it open.
I’ve been waiting all day for him to come home and celebrate my thirteenth birthday.
I’m a teenager finally, and I don’t have to be in bed before eight thirty now. Amanda is going to be so jealous that I get to stay up later and she has to go to bed early, and Rachel doesn’t count because she is still a baby.
“My little snuggle bug.” He drops his briefcase at the door as I launch myself into his arms, and he twirls me around in the air. “Happy birthday, my beautiful Harper.” Coming to a stop, he kisses me on the top of my head as I get the best dad cuddle. For as long as I can remember it has always been Dad who gives the hugs and is the fun parent. I love my mum just as much, but she is the parent at home who does the day-to-day things we need. As I get older, I can see maybe she is so tired, and that’s why she doesn’t have as much time to laugh and spin us around in the air like Dad does.
Pulling back from me, he looks down with the straightest face. “So, ten years old today, double digits?” he questions me.
“No!” I screech at him. “I’m thirteen, a teenager. Almost an adult” I throw my arms out to my side and then start to spin around in a circle. “Can’t you see I’m not a little girl anymore? I’m all grown up!” I mean, not that he would be looking at me like that, but I have boobs now, that makes me a grown-up woman in my eyes, right? That’s what Felisha and I think, but I would never say that out loud, that would be so embarrassing.
Daddy just bursts out laughing at my twirling display and replies, “You will always be my little girl no matter how old you are, Harper.” Then he picks his briefcase back up and tucks me under his arm, walking us toward the back of the house where the kitchen is. Mum has cooked my favorite meal for my birthday, BBQ ribs, mac and cheese, and pumpkin pie for dessert. We might not live in America anymore, but my mum still loves to cook some of the food we miss from there. I know the ribs are Daddy’s favorite too, that’s why I picked them.
“Mmmmm, something smells great in here.” Letting me go, he goes to my sisters who are already sitting at the table. Rachel is in her highchair, flapping her arms up and down with excitement at the sight of Dad, and Amanda looks up with such a sweet smile. He gives them the same amount of love that she just showed me. Then he wraps his arms around my mum from behind and kisses her on the cheek as she dishes up the food on to the plates. He whispers something in her ear which makes her giggle, and she pushes him away.
I often look at them and am so grateful that I have parents who love each other so much. Compared to my best friend Felisha whose father is all grumpy, and they hardly ever spend time together. He scares me, and I don’t like him. Her mum is beautiful and is so prim and proper the way she dresses and acts. But when it’s just her, Felisha, and me, she is really funny and lots of fun.
Things start to get blurry, and I try desperately to hang on to those memories when everything was perfect. When I felt his love in every hug.
But then that vision turns to that night, the one I hate but can never shake, when I thought I saw him standing outside my bedroom window at my apartment, just watching me. I waved to him, and he waved back with such sadness on his face. I ran down the stairs to get to him because I was worried about why he looked like that, and I was freaking out a little. Why didn’t he just come to the door and knock?
“Daddy!” I yell into the cold winter night to where he was standing, but he’s gone. Then the snowstorm starts, and I can’t see anything.
White wind is all around me. I just keep screaming his name, but he never answers.
One last hug was all I wanted.
I try to breathe a little slower the way my therapist taught me to bring myself back to the here and now.
He disappeared after I pictured him in the window, and I never saw him again.
I found out later he had left the country that night and fled to America, where he was later murdered.
For a few years, I dreamed of hearing him screaming my name to come and help him and what his screams of pain might have sounded like. The vision of what I imagined happened when he was shot. But finally, I got past that and moved on with my life, putting the pain behind me.
“Fuck,” I curse, slamming my fist into the pillow next to me. I don’t want to go back to this screwing up my head. I haven’t seen a therapist for at least ten years, and I don’t want to have to go back there.
Rolling onto my back and looking up at the ceiling, it dawns on me that I’m not in my bed. Not even my temporary one.
“Ughhh, my second nightmare for the day… Forrest.” It’s like the universe is torturing me.
Well, no point lying here all day complaining about it. That’s not who I am. I tackle things head-on, and that’s what I need to do here too.
Throwing back the covers, I drag myself out of bed and head into the bathroom.
One look at myself in the mirror is all I need to know.
“You look like shit, bitch. Going to need some serious work this morning to look presentable for the world.” I roll my eyes at myself in the mirror and then turn to start the shower and get on with it.
Walking down the hallway from my room, I have no idea what time Forrest gets up or leaves for work. It’s almost seven am which is normal for me to be grabbing my protein shake and heading off to work. Admittedly, I would have normally been up already and done a workout with my online personal trainer app, but this morning, it just wasn’t going to happen.
If I’m lucky he has already left and I won’t have to face him this morning. It will give me time to think about what I need to say.
But I suppose that is wishful thinking because him leaving me here on my own kind of defeats the purpose of being here in his apartment for him to be my big tough protector.
The closer I get to the kitchen, I realize that luck is not on my side. Hearing his voice and the sounds of the clicking of keys on his keyboard, I know he is in his office. If the truth be known, he has probably been up for hours working, because the high-end financial world never sleeps. There are always, at any time of the day, money markets open and reports releasing that affect the prices of shares. I don’t know how he does it, that job would bore me to tears. But there is a part of me that also has such a hate for the financial world because it took my dad away from me, and that I can’t ever forget.
I should be worried that Forrest works in the same world as my dad, but it’s very clear that Forrest is so conservative that I presume it carries through to his investing too. Plus, there is no way he would let the others down by doing anything risky like my father did. Forrest is very protective of his family and friend group. I just wish my dad had been the same.
The financial world is not my thing, and I’m just glad I don’t really have to deal in that part of Kentwall Estates; I just get the fun of organizing how we spend it. I also need excitement and challenges in my career, but just not in the way of making money at others’ expense. But to each their own, I suppose.
What is the right thing to do here? Go into his office to let him know I’m awake, which I’m a bit hesitant to do because his conversation could be something confidential, and we are business competitors, after all. Or do I just make some noise in the kitchen, purposely loud so he gets the hint that I’m out here?
Two days ago, I probably would have just marched in there and not given a fuck about what he was saying on the phone, showing him that I’m running the show here. But this morning, I’m not sure I have the energy for that.
Decision made, I enter the kitchen and start opening the cupboards to find a glass and try to close them a little louder than is needed.
“Of course they are those damn soft-close doors. Shit.” Looking around, I need something I can accidentally drop on the floor or in the sink that will make a loud enough noise he will hear me but not break.
A chopping board, perfect.
I pick it up and hold it high above my head so when it falls, there is no way he won’t hear it.
“What the hell are you doing?” Forrest’s voice from behind startles me, and I scream in fright. I also drop the board, which lands on my toe.
“Agghhh, fuck, that hurt. What the hell. Are you a secret ninja or something? Creeping up on people and scaring them. What is wrong with you, you idiot?” I hop around on one foot in a pair of cream Jimmy Choos while I’m waving my injured foot in the air, which is screaming in pain at me.
“Asks the woman who is doing weightlifting in my kitchen with the chopping board. Who is the weirdo here, huh?” The smug smile on his face tells me he thinks this is funny, but it’s far from it.
“I should sue you for breaking my toe,” I snap, looking down at my foot. “And wrecking my favorite pair of shoes. Look at the mark on it. I’m going to have to throw them out now.” I point my shoe toward him, but he doesn’t even look and is moving toward me. Before I even have time to say a word, his hands are on my waist and hoisting me up onto the kitchen counter.
My mouth drops open.
His big hand wraps around my calf, and the other one already has the shoe off and it falls to the ground. The sheer stockings are not enough to stop the sensation of his skin touching mine.
“Wriggle your toes.” His deep voice has me doing as he asks, but not because he told me to. I want to see for myself that they are okay, even though they hurt like hell.
“Not broken. Like I thought, a drama queen.” His words piss me off, and even though my foot hurts, I use it to kick his thigh that he had it resting on while assessing my toes.
“Seriously,” he growls at me but doesn’t even flinch or move away; he just looks annoyed now.
“You know I don’t like to be touched.”
“Fine.” He releases my leg, and again, I know I’m being a bitch, but it just seems to happen around him.
I try to wriggle my butt off the counter, but every wriggle I try to maneuver just pulls my skirt that much farther up my thighs as the silk underskirt slides on my stockings. Forrest is getting to see a lot higher up my thighs than I want him to, and I know I can’t jump down, especially in one high heel and the other foot already in pain.
“Ughhh,” I grunt, looking back up at Forrest who is standing in front of me, leaning against the cupboard on the other side of the kitchen. His arms are crossed, and I didn’t even notice before that he has his sleeves of his blue shirt rolled up. My eyes gravitate to the veins running up his arms, and that just makes me squirm even more where I’m sitting.
“Need help?” he taunts me.
“No.” I lift my eyes up to look at him, and he just nods his head and stands there, not saying anything.
Silence and neither of us look away for what feels like forever, until I have to give in to him, which I hate.
“Fine!” I yell, throwing my hands in the air.
“Fine, what?” Not moving, he just keeps the blank expression.
“Get me down,” I blurt out.
“And?”
“Oh, this is not going to work. I’m leaving. Get me the fuck down, asshole.”
“Still waiting.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mumble under my breath. “Please.” The word burns on my tongue.
Without another word, he takes the couple of steps to me and lifts me off the counter, gently placing me on the ground, while I quickly pull my skirt down, and I push my foot back into the shoe he took off. It hurts, but I’m not showing any pain to him, just start to walk to where I set my bag on the dining table.
“So, I’m guessing I’ll pack your things up and leave them for you to pick up tonight then.” The calmness in his voice really bugs me.
“What do you mean?” I spin around and see he hasn’t moved from where he lifted me down.
“Well, you clearly don’t want to be here, and I’m not holding you here against your will, Harper, so I’ll tell Sandon and Rem that you need a full-time bodyguard to be in your apartment.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.” I can feel the irritation with him building inside me, along with the frustration that my life is not mine right now.
“Not really. Look, we need to talk to sort out how this is going to work. Can you manage to get home a bit earlier tonight? I will cook you dinner, and we can chat, calmly. We are two grown-ass adults who should be able to co-exist in an apartment, for the good of your safety.”
God damn it, why does he have to be nice to me? Just keep being a grumpy dick and then I don’t have to turn off my inner bitch like I’m trying to do right now.
“Okay.” It’s all I have to say, and I then turn to walk toward the door and open it.
Then there is this overwhelming hesitation, and I don’t know if I can step out of the apartment on my own.
His footsteps approach from behind, and the gentle way he places his hand on my shoulder sends a tingle through me that I haven’t felt before, and surprisingly, I don’t shrug it off.
“Just give me five minutes to grab my things and I’ll walk with you down to your car. Will you wait for me?” The softness in his voice is comforting.
I nod, and he leaves me standing there.
“Thank you,” I whisper, though I know he won’t hear.
Because the fear that just washed over me and the memory of my dream left me without a voice, and I need those five minutes of him being away from me to talk myself out of the panic attack that is about to overtake me.
I know the tools, and it sucks that I need to use them again, but I’m just so grateful for the hard work I have done years prior to now, because it will get me through this.
By the time Forrest is walking back toward me, I wouldn’t say I’m my usual self, but at least he isn’t seeing me at my worst.
I’ll never let that happen.
Nobody gets to see me weak.
FORREST
“I don’t give a shit what Sandon says, you get me in that meeting with this Ashton guy.” I’m leaning with my clenched fists on Remington’s desk, waiting for him to acknowledge my concerns.
“Calm the fuck down and take a seat.” He is looking at me like he wants to kick me out of his office, but he knows there’s no point because I’m not letting this go. “I don’t know much yet, and I doubt Sandon does either. Ashton will be in touch once he arrives in the country and then a meeting will be set.” He points his finger at me to sit down like he told me to.
“Why didn’t Sandon sort that out when he spoke to him? Why are we wasting time? Some lunatic is out there stalking Harper, and we are here sitting on our freaking hands doing nothing while we wait. Are we forgetting how useless the Kentwall team was when we had the sex tape problem with Flynn and Felisha? They are incompetent.”
“Wow, you really are worked up, aren’t you. I think you need to cut Sandon some slack here. His hands were tied, and he was being deliberately contained, not able to do his job properly. Ewan made sure that no one was really looking after Felisha, and it was just lucky that she had Flynn, which meant she also had us and we were watching her back.” He sighs and takes a breath, and this time, he just rolls his eyes at me, as I’m still standing in front of his desk and couldn’t sit still in a chair even if I tried.
“But this time it’s different. Felisha is in charge, and there is no way that she will let anything happen to her best friend, and sure as shit, I won’t either. Forrest, I know there is some weird kind of dynamic between you and Harper, because the two of you are like caged animals around each other, but you need to back off a bit. Remember what happened the last time you got like this with Cherie?” And his words hit harder than I would like to admit.
“Don’t even compare this to that,” I hiss at him.
“It’s the same damn thing. You are in my office demanding things because you want to sweep in and save the damsel in distress. Can’t you see that?”
“It’s different,” I swear as I turn and walk toward his window so I don’t have to look at him. “Last time was just wanting to protect a woman because I don’t like seeing them in danger with the potential to get hurt. A friend was putting herself in danger, and it was stupid.” I huff at the frustration of having to explain myself to him.
“But with Harper.” I turn back to him and thump my chest. “It’s like a burning pain in here, and I don’t know how to turn it off or contain it.”
My hands are at my sides, tightly clenched in fists, and I can feel the blood pumping fast in my body. What the hell is wrong with me?
Not saying a word, Rem just stands and walks to me, placing his hand on my shoulder and looking straight at me. “I haven’t known you that long, Forrest, but in the five years since we met and you became one of my best friends, I have never seen you like this, and it’s about damn time.” He smiles at me smugly, like he knows some special secret.
“Like what?” I demand.
“Turned inside out over a woman. Meeting Cherie knocked on the door of that titanium wall of yours, but she was never going to be right for you.” Putting his other hand up onto the other shoulder and patting it, he continues. “But Harper, now that’s a different story. She is yelling and screaming at you through those walls, and you don’t know how to deal with that. You want her to kick them down, but she isn’t interested. And that, my friend, is confusing the fuck out of you. So welcome to the club of men who have no damn idea what goes on in women’s heads, but we love them anyway.” He looks so sure of himself with his big speech of wisdom, but he’s wrong.
“Okay, Yoda. You might be in love, but I am far from it. And Harper…” I step around him and start pacing again. “She’s just…” I throw my hands in the air in frustration, trying to find a word, and the only two that come to mind are, “Annoyingly complex.”
“Exactly.” He starts laughing at me. “You’ll see.”
And I can’t even be bothered to fight him on this stupid conversation anymore.
“Just get me in that room with him, otherwise I’ll be barging in there anyway. Your choice.” I storm out of his office because I’m done with this conversation, and the fact that I can still hear him laughing as I walk away pisses me off even more.
Why is it that both my friends and my brother think they are these wise men now that they have found love?
Good for them, but I am so far from finding someone to fall in love with, it’s not even funny.
So, they can keep their little pep talks to themselves. I don’t need that shit in my head.
There are more important things to think of… like how the fuck I’m going to convince Harper that living with me is her best option right now and to stop fighting me on it.
Now that’s what I could use some advice on, and yet the men of wisdom are nowhere to be seen.
HARPER
Walking into my office, a sense of peace falls over me.
Yes, this is what I need.
Here I can concentrate, forget about the outside world for a few hours, and get on with helping Felisha conquer the world.
It’s unusual that I haven’t even checked my emails yet this morning, so I feel like I’m behind on my day already. But the first email is one that brightens my day a little.
It’s the confirmation from Luchia Bianchi, a friend of Felisha and Flynn’s who owns a large wine company and vineyards across Italy and other countries. She is more than happy to host their wedding at her home vineyard if they wish, which is awesome.
It is one of our major issues with two very high-profile people, that we need to find somewhere that they can get married in privacy and relax without having to worry about having their own personal moments being plastered all over the internet. Of course, we will release a couple of authorized images after it is all said and done, and that will keep the media happy.
I’m sure they will both be excited to hear that this venue is a possibility. Not that they want a big affair. It will only be family and close friends, which of course means it will be easier to keep it a secret until it is all over.
The first email gave me a false sense of security that today was improving, with the next five I opened all urgent problems that need solving. I was deep into writing a very curt and straight-to-the-point reply to one of our managers at the hotel in Berlin, when Felisha walked into the room, and when I looked up at her, she looked shocked.
“You look like shit this morning. What the hell happened last night? Do I need to go and sort out my future brother-in-law and move you into my apartment?”
“Great, that’s the second time I’ve been told I look like shit today.” I stop typing to look up at her properly.
“Christ, who the hell said that to you, besides me? And you know I love you and that it comes from a good place when I’m honest with you.” Felisha is disapproving that someone was awful to me.
“Don’t worry, it was only me. One look in the mirror this morning and I knew I needed more makeup than I probably owned to fix this,” I say, waving my hand in front of my face. “But obviously, I didn’t do a good enough job.”
“Oh shush, no one else will notice except me because I’ve been looking at that beautiful face since pre-puberty, and I know when something isn’t right.” Closing the door behind her, she moves toward my desk, taking the seat in front of me.
“Well, as much as he grinds my gears, it wasn’t really Forrest.” I try to maintain my calmness because I will not cry this makeup off and let the real world see the mess I am underneath it. And to be honest, I don’t have a spare hour today to fix it either. “The dream’s back.” That is all I have to say for her face to turn from one of anger, like she was ready to hunt down Forrest and give him a piece of her mind, to one of sadness because she knows exactly the dream I’m talking about.
“Oh, Harper, babe, I’m so sorry this is happening again.”
I couldn’t have gotten through that time in my life without Felisha, and I leaned on her so much that she knows every part of the pain and mental anguish I suffered. She held me at night when I was screaming in my sleep for my father, sobbing because he wasn’t coming back.
She was the one who brought me a box full of dinner plates to throw at the walls and floor to try to release the anger and hatred I felt for my dad for what he had done. But most importantly, she was the one who held my hand and pulled me through it all and out the other side of my grief and accepted when my mind stopped me from letting anyone touch me going forward. Who doesn’t even let their best friend hug them? I know I’m just weird, but I can’t help it.
“I’ll be okay, I’m sure it was just the shock of yesterday. I won’t feel as helpless this time. I have an army of men and women around me who are ready to go to battle for me. Last time I was so young, with the weight of the world on my shoulders, looking after my family, and I only really had you. We had no idea how to handle it, and we just muddled through, and looking back, I’m super proud of how we did that. But this time, we are both older and have a lot more knowledge, life experience, and money behind us. No stalker is going to keep me from living my best life.” And when I get to the end of my speech, I’m not sure if I’m saying it to convince her or myself.
But whatever I said makes her understand that I don’t want to sit around and dwell on the fact that my life is volatile again.
“Of course, you’ll be fine. We are going to deal with this guy one way or another and then continue living our fabulous lives.” She pauses and then gets a stupid grin on her face. “So, tell me what happened with Forrest last night instead. I’m sure that’s more fascinating than this.”
“Oh my God, you could have warned me about the playroom!” I yell at her, and we both start laughing as I give her the story of last night and this morning’s craziness.
“Did you explain why you were standing in his kitchen with a chopping board above your head?” She is still laughing at me.
“Nope. And I hope it is confusing the hell out of him today, because that would give me great pleasure.” Looking at my computer screen, I see that Felisha has an online meeting in five minutes.
“Anyway, enough about my stupid life, you have Mr. Tan calling in five minutes, so you need to go do some work.” I shoo her away with my hands.
“Ugh, work is overrated some days,” she says, standing to leave.
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my best friend Felisha, the workaholic?” I hold my hand on my heart in mock shock.
“It’s all Flynn’s doing, blame him. You too will be like this one day, I promise you.” Walking to the door, she stops and turns. “And maybe sooner than you think.”
“Get lost, you, and take your blasphemous words with you. No man will ever pin me down.”
She is laughing as she closes the door behind her.
“Unless it’s naked and on a bed, and it won’t be for longer than a night,” I mumble to myself. “Now that pinning down, I could take a dose of right now.”
The words bring a smile to my face as I get back to work, but the reality is I know that won’t be happening for as long as I’m under the watchful eye of the big growly bodyguard I’m stuck living with for a while.
Unless it’s him, and I’m totally open to that option.