18. Harper
EIGHTEEN
HARPER
The yellow tulips bounced on my leg as Fiona raced back to the mansion. The white ribbon tied around the bouquet fluttered in the breeze. It was chilly, but Fiona had insisted we keep the windows open. She didn’t want me getting car sick in the Range Rover, something about not wanting to piss off Tank more than we had to.
I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to deal with that jerk either.
Fiona glanced at my lap. “Should we tell Wyatt?” Her hands clenched the steering wheel.
“Tell him what? That a florist dropped off flowers for my mom?” I scoffed.
She laughed. “Yeah. When you put it that way… It’s probably not important.” She veered lanes without signaling. I gripped the door handle hard as the driver behind us aggressively beeped his horn.
I’d had a nice morning shopping with Fiona, and I wanted to believe that she could be an ally, or even a friend, at some point down the road. But she was still Wyatt’s employee, and one of them. It was safe to assume her loyalties lay with Wyatt and not with me.
She frowned at the bouquet. “Was there a card?”
“No.” I made a show of checking the bouquet and coming up empty handed. “They’re probably from some distant relative.” A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Fiona didn’t know we had no family, that it was just me and Mom, and had been for the last ten years. “I’ll put them in water when we get home. It feels silly to waste them.”
Fiona smiled. “I love tulips. I planted some purple and yellow ones outside my house in the village.” Her eyes looked wistful as she stared out the windshield.
“Do you miss your house?”
“Very much. Seattle isn’t home. I could never live in the city full time,” she said with a shudder. “I’d be so bored.”
“Why did you come back?”
A guilty look flashed across her face. “You know why.”
I had a flashback of Fiona in her running clothes, tying her hair in a ponytail, as she stretched next to me at the park. Of course, I’d had no idea that she was a sasquatch then, or that she was following me for Wyatt. “I remember thinking you were really tall,” I laughed. “And that your shoes were massive.”
“I have to get them custom-made,” she laughed. “That’s one way humans are luckier than us, I guess. But…” she turned to me with a straight face, “it’s the only way.” Her wink kept the mood light, and showed that she was just joking.
“Maybe we could go for a run sometime.”
She hesitated, and I worried I had overstepped a boundary by suggesting we spend time together. “Sure. It beats running on a treadmill. Did you know the gym Wyatt’s putting in cost $300,000? And I bet no one even uses it. We hate exercising indoors.”
“$300,000?” My jaw dropped. “I don’t even like the gym,” I groaned. “All I want is to be able to go outside without a babysitter. No offence,” I added.
Fiona smiled. “None taken.”
The rest of the drive was silent as I stared out the passenger window. The buildings passed in a blur of concrete and shadow as I thought about my dad, hiding somewhere in the woods, and my mom, locked up in Sun Valley. How had my life fallen apart so epically?
Wyatt was my only constant now. He was the partner I’d always wanted, and with a first meeting that rivaled that of my parents’. Could we still be a family, just the two of us, without a child?
Right now, nothing mattered except the flowers in my hand. If my memories were correct, there was more to them than met the eye.
The vase of tulips looked cheery on the marble counter, bringing a touch of spring to the otherwise gloomy October weather.
It was just me and Gloria in the kitchen. As soon as we’d arrived home, Fiona feigned exhaustion. Too much human time, she’d said, before disappearing upstairs to one of the spare rooms. I wondered which room was hers, not knowing where anyone slept. I’d only explored the west wing, where mine and Wyatt’s bedroom was, along with his office and my library. The estate probably held a plethora of mysteries, just waiting to be discovered.
“There.” Gloria smiled, adjusting the stems. “Aren’t these lovely?”
“Thanks, Gloria.” I scooped up the white ribbon that had been tied around the bouquet, and tucked it discretely into my back pocket. “I’ll be upstairs if anyone needs me.”
“And I’ll be here preparing dinner. Tonight is venison lasagna. Is that all right, Miss?”
I nodded. “Everything you’ve made so far has been incredible.”
Gloria beamed, her smile carrying through to her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Please, call me Harper.”
She nodded. “Very well, Miss Harper.”
Close enough, I guess. With a wave goodbye, I raced up the stairs to the west wing and shut the bedroom door. The deadbolt locked with a loud creak. I wondered if Wyatt ever used it, in a house where there seemed to be no secrets between anyone.
With trembling hands, I pulled out the ribbon. It was a generic type that you’d find at any gift store and didn’t look special. But I knew that sometimes, not everything was as it seemed.
In the bathroom, I found a hair dryer and began blasting heat onto the back side of the ribbon. Faint lettering appeared, but the words made no sense.
fmwvi gsv dzev, zgv, nv wvzi
Had the beast inside my father finally taken over? It was useless gibberish. Tears sprang to my eyes as I crumpled the ribbon in my hand, ready to toss it away along with any hope of finding my dad.
But then just as quickly, another memory returned. I ran to nightstand and rifled through the drawer until I found paper.
Remember, Sunbeam . Dad’s voice echoed in my mind as I tried converting the letters using different codes he’d taught me. None worked, until I tried the Atbash cipher. Reversing the alphabet, the words suddenly became intelligible.
under the wave, ate, me dear.
Somehow, my dad had found a way to pass on a message. A message that only I would know to find. I didn’t know how he’d done it, or how he’d have known I’d get my hands on the tulips, but here I was with the first solid clue to… what? I didn’t know, his words made no sense. But they were one step closer to getting him back.
The door handle rattled as if being turned by someone strong. “Harper?” Wyatt’s voice carried into the bedroom from the hallway.
I slid the notepad back into the drawer. “Coming,” I yelled as I hurried to unlock the door.
Wyatt leaned against the door frame, his brows furrowed. “Why did you lock it?” His eyes darted around the bedroom as if looking for a reason.
“I—”
I wanted to tell him about the flowers, about the secret message. But my dad had gone to great lengths to hide it, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to share it with anyone else. Not even Wyatt. So I closed my mouth and scrambled to come up with a reason for the locked door.
Wyatt’s expression softened before I could speak. He rubbed my shoulders with gentle hands, his voice quiet. “I know that being here is a big change for you, and that you probably feel trapped. And I know that you and some of the crew didn’t exactly get off to the best start. But I promise that you’re safe here, and that no one will bother you when you’re upstairs, especially in our wing.”
I lifted my eyes to gaze into the face of the man I loved. A man who’d given up everything to be with me. His long eyelashes framed his golden eyes, which glowed with what looked like a mix of adoration and concern.
“You’re right. I just needed some space.” My second white lie of the day.
Wyatt’s shoulders relaxed, but his eyes darted around the room until settling on the glossy black shopping bag on the floor next to the bed. The corner of his mouth raised seductively. “Do you still want some space?” he smirked. “Or do I get to see you in the new dress?” He grinned mischievously, scooping me into his arms. I let out an excited squeal as he lifted me effortlessly over his shoulder.
I beat my hands against his shoulder blades. “You have… to wait… until the gala,” I said between breaths.
“Maybe I just want to rip it off you,” he grinned playfully.
“There’s no way you’re getting your hands on that gown,” I laughed. “Now put me down.” I continued pounding against his shoulder blades.
“Your wish is my command.” As he lowered me onto the comforter, all thoughts of tulips and secret messages disappeared, replaced by the deep desire I felt for the man I loved. I didn’t know it was possible to feel that way about someone, but the desire I felt for him transcended what I thought it would feel like to fall in love. It transcended the hearts and flowers I’d always read about. It was a primal, visceral hunger; a storm brewing within me, aching for release.
It was as if Wyatt had awakened me after years of slumber. I’d wasted so much time hiding in my books, and working two jobs to make ends meet. And now? Now I was finally living.
The bed sunk beneath me as Wyatt lay down next to me, but before our bodies came together, his face softened. The telltale crease appeared between his eyebrows, alerting me that something was wrong. I cupped my hand to his cheek. “What is it?”
He sighed wearily into my palm. “We’re going to have visitors.”