Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
STERLING
“So, what exactly have you been doing whilst we’ve been away?” I hear Melody ask Harlow as I step into the kitchen a couple of days later. Harlow is making herself a coffee and her mother is leaning against the counter eyeing her with a mixture of frustration and disdain. “You know we have staff who can do that. Why do you insist on doing it yourself? I suppose you’ve been cleaning your own room too?”
“Because I want to,” Harlow replies tightly, her back to me. “It’s just a cup of coffee, and yes, as a matter of fact I have. I don’t need anyone to wait on me hand and foot.”
“You always did love Cinderella. I never could quite understand why the prince would marry a pauper when he could’ve had his pick,” Melody scoffs, and her meaning is clear. God, what a bitch.
“Pretty sure the prince married Cinderella because she was the only woman who didn’t want to marry him for his money or for notoriety,” I remark darkly as I scowl at Melody, before resting my gaze on Harlow. “Plus she was fucking beautiful inside and out.”
Harlow gasps and Melody visibly pales before she waves her hand in the air with a fake smile.
“You know what I meant.”
“Oh I know exactly what you meant.”
Melody clears her throat as she slowly drifts her gaze from my face to my bare chest, then to my workout shorts, before trailing her eyes back up again. “Did you sleep well?” Her voice lowers a few octaves, as she blatantly checks me out. Does this woman not have any shame?
“I’ve been up a few hours already, working out,” I say, reaching for the towel chucked over my shoulder and swiping at the beads of sweat gathering on my forehead.
“Yes, you have been, haven't you?” Melody replies, her brow arching as her gaze flickers with appreciation. I try not to throw up on my feet.
“I was about to take a swim, then head into the sauna, but I think I might grab a coffee first,” I say, heading towards the counter. There’s no fucking way I’m leaving Harlow alone with this bitch.
Harlow peers at me over the rim of her cup as she watches me approach, and I can’t help but notice the flicker of both desire and fear in her gaze. Thank fuck her mother is looking the other way.
“Well, there’s plenty here,” Melody says, waving her hand in the direction of the coffee machine. “Perhaps Harlow can pour you a cup seeing as she’s so insistent on playing housemaid.”
“Like Harlow, I prefer to get my own coffee,” I bite back, wanting to prove to Melody that, unlike her, I also don’t need to be waited on, but the insinuation is lost on her as she continues to ramble on.
“... Your darling father has arranged for a spa day for me at the hotel whilst he catches up on some business. I’m rather looking forward to relaxing. Harlow, you couldn’t be a darling could you, and take a look at the emails my agent sent? I think she wants Robert and I to do an interview with one of the national newspapers next week. Oh, and I really think that you should be getting back to work too. Just because I’ve been away on honeymoon doesn't mean you should be slacking.”
“ Slacking ?” Harlow tenses, her mouth opening as though she wants to say something to the bitch. Please, Harlow, just tell her to fuck off . Instead, she just sighs. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”
“It’ll do you good to get back to work instead of moping around the place, and doing jobs that other people have been paid to do,” Melody says, only adding insult to injury.
Fuck me, if this woman says one more nasty comment I’m going to lose my shit. Instead, I grit my teeth, and grab a cup from the cupboard, reminding myself that I have to curb my thoughts right now despite how much it pains me to do so.
“Excuse me,” I murmur, stepping in between Harlow and Melody as I help myself to some coffee. Harlow edges out of the way, making a point of not looking at me, and it’s taking a great deal of effort not to reach out and pull her in for a hug. She sure looks like she could use one, and I know I certainly do.
Fuck, it’s hard not to act on my desires, and whilst I’ve purposefully stayed out of her way these past couple of days after my conversation with my father, this morning, admittedly, I had hoped to get a few moments alone with her. There are things we need to discuss.
“Perfect, well, I’ll leave you to it,” Melody replies, pressing her fingertips against my arm. It’s all I can do not to jerk away from her touch, which lingers a lot longer than necessary. “Actually, Robert was looking for you. He’s in his study. I was heading there myself.”
“I’ll drink this first,” I say, giving her room to pass.
“I think it was rather urgent,” she insists when I make no move to go with her, and instead lean against the kitchen island.
“I’m sure it can wait a few more minutes,” I cut out, my patience slipping.
She looks at me, her eyes narrowing a little before she nods her head. I get the distinct impression that she’s not used to being defied. “Well, I’ll tell him you’ll be along shortly. Have a nice day, won’t you?” she says directly to me, ignoring Harlow entirely.
With one last smile, which I don’t bother to return, she leaves.
“Harlow,” I begin, my voice rough as I reach for her arm.
Her gaze drops to my hand, heat spreading across her cheeks. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” she whispers, tensing beneath my touch.
“We need to talk,” I snap, my lingering anger at her mother making my request sound harsher than I’d intended. “Why the fuck do you let her speak to you like that?”
She jerks her head up, eyes widening at the anger in my tone, and try as I might I can’t seem to dampen it enough to make her relax in my presence. I’m not angry at her, not at all. I’m angry at her mother for being such a bitch. I’m just about to tell her as much when I hear said bitch’s voice echoing along the hallway.
“Darling, I was just telling Sterling that you were looking for him.”
Harlow tenses, and I withdraw my hand.
“Fuck sake,” I mutter.
She looks at me, fear dancing across her flushed face as our parent’s exchange small talk, but I don’t have any time to put her at ease before my father strides into the room a few moments later.
“There you are,” he says, eyeing me, his brow lifting as he notices my state of relative undress.
“Here I am,” I reply, taking a sip of my coffee as Harlow shifts on her feet beside me.
I’m not sure if she’s uncomfortable because of the tension between us, if it’s because her mother just talked to her like she’s a piece of shit, or that my father isn’t bothering to hide his annoyance as he glares at me.
“I’ve been meaning to have a conversation with you, but it seems you’ve been avoiding all of us ,” he remarks, the warning to his tone not going unnoticed.
If he knew the real reason I’ve been keeping myself out of the way, I’m sure this would be a very different conversation right now. Instead, I shrug. “I’ve been busy. What do you want?”
“Too busy to spend time with your family ?” he asks, giving me a pointed look. “I’m sure Harlow would’ve appreciated you making an effort. Wouldn’t you, Harlow?”
“And I’m sure Harlow has better things to do with her time than hanging around with me. Right, Harlow?” I retort, throwing her a look that can only be interpreted one way.
She flinches at the carefully constructed hostility, and I feel like a fucking prick. But I’m doing this to protect her. If I’m too eager to spend time with her then his suspicions will be aroused, but if I don’t show at least some annoyance or resentment at being forced to play happy families then that’ll only add to his suspicions. Either way, it’s a fine line I have to walk, and believe me I’m teetering on the edge. I’m not sure how long I can do this before I make my true feelings known.
“It’s fine,” she mumbles. “I’ve been busy catching up on some emails. Mom mentioned that her agent wants you to attend an interview together…” Her voice trails off as he scowls.
“Absolutely not. Any interviews that we do together I will decide upon.”
“Of course,” Harlow whispers, wincing at the tone of his voice.
“Please forward me the details as soon as you have a moment,” he adds with a patient smile, that mask he loves to wear slotting into place. Harlow’s shoulders relax a little, and I hate that she doesn’t see through his pretence.
“Sure. Um, okay,” Harlow replies.
“Perfect. Now, back to the point at hand,” he says, focussing his attention on me. “Sterling a word.”
“In a minute. I’m just having this coffee, spending time with Harlow. That’s what you want isn’t it?” I reply, making no move to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Harlow curl in on herself, her shoulders rounding, and not for the first time I feel like an absolute cunt.
“It’s fine. I’ll go,” she says.
My father’s nostrils flare sensing her unease as he fires me another filthy look. “Finish your coffee, then come see me in my office,” he commands, before striding out of the kitchen.
I wait a few moments before turning to Harlow who looks about ready to bolt. “Harlow,” I begin.
“You probably shouldn’t antagonise him,” she replies, placing her coffee on the counter as she takes a step away from me.
“He’ll survive, but I’m not sure I will if you don’t give me a moment of your time,” I say softly, placing my own cup of coffee on the counter and stepping towards her.
“You don’t have to feel like you should be spending time with me,” she replies, and there’s no hiding the hurt in her voice.
“Harlow, that isn’t–”
She holds her hand up, shaking her head. “I know what I heard.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” I reply, my fingers curling into fists in frustration. Fuck, I don’t want to make her feel unwanted. That’s the last thing I want.
“But it is what you said,” she counters, clearly hurt.
“Harlow, listen,” I say, taking another step towards her, but she steps away from me again, and just when I’m about to haul her into my arms, something beeps loudly.
Harlow’s hand flies to her back pocket, and she pulls out her phone as though grateful for the interruption. Her gaze drops to the screen and I’m tempted to snatch the phone out of her hands and throw it across the room for interrupting us, but when her thumb slides over the screen and her eyes widen, I hesitate.
“What is it?” I ask, noticing how her face pales. She jerks her head up, her gaze meeting mine. “Harlow, what is it?” I press, hating the panicked look in her eyes. God, I’ve royally fucked-up here.
“Nothing…” she replies quickly, pocketing her phone.
“Harlow,” I warn, but she takes two strides away from me, rounding the kitchen island, preventing me from grabbing her arm and forcing her to answer me.
“It’s just a work thing. I should go,” she says before she practically runs from the room, almost knocking into Stephanie as she leaves.
“Sorry,” Harlow mutters, then disappears.
“What on earth?” Stephanie exclaims, startled. She gives me a round-eyed stare, and I swipe a hand over my face.
“ Fuck !”
Harlow
In the privacy of my room I stare at the message on my phone, my stomach churning. After I responded the last time telling whoever this arsehole is to leave me alone, I hadn’t heard anything back. I’d thought that he’d given up, or at the very least hoped he’d gotten bored, a part of me had selfishly hoped that he’d found someone else to bother.
But I was wrong.
I can’t leave you alone. I’ve tried. But how can I do that when we belong together, you and I? I’m already so close to making you mine, and when we’re finally together, you’ll sing for me every day my sweet songbird. Perhaps I’ll even build you a cage?
As I stare at the message, my eyes blurring with tears, another message pops up. This one is worse than the last.
Do you like my nickname for you? I thought it was apt. Then again, you go by Friday, don’t you? Or perhaps I should call you by your real name, Harlow…
I let out a cry of fear, dropping the phone to the floor.
He knows who I am.