HARPER
Killian and Maddox leave together about an hour after the police do.
Maddox with his phone already up making calls before he’s out of the corridor.
There are legal teams to brief and evidence chains to confirm and official statements to give, and whatever comes next for my parents happens somewhere beyond the estate’s gates in offices that don’t need me in them.
Thank God. I’ve had about enough worrying about them screwing with my life.
It was different when it was just me I had to worry about, but the thought of them hurting anyone I love, especially this little niblet in my tummy…
I guess my mommy instinct gave me the added push I needed to confront them.
I watch them go from the front entrance and feel something settle in my chest that’s been suspended for a long time, that voice in the back of my consciousness asking when will it be safe for me to have a life has finally quieted and a spectacular show of fireworks booming in my minds skies paints the horizon.
Asher appears at my elbow the way he always does, just there, and puts his hand at the small of my back.
“Let’s get you something to eat,” he says.
“Asher—”
“You haven’t eaten since this morning. Come on.”
He walks me to Vine, the main restaurant, which is empty at this hour between lunch and dinner service, all linen and soft light and the smell of whatever he’s been prepping before any of this morning happened.
He settles me at a corner table that looks out over the vineyard, fills my water glass without being asked, and disappears into the kitchen without another word.
I sit with the quiet for a while. I let it be quiet. I don’t make a list or run through what needs to happen next or think about anything at all. I just watch the vineyard through the window and breathe and let the morning exist without trying to organize it into something manageable.
The food arrives before I’ve decided what I’m feeling. Asher sets it down in front of me, pulls the chair opposite mine, and sits.
“Eat,” he says.
I eat.
I’m halfway through when I hear two sets of heels practically stomping against the marble floor as if it’s the floors fault for simply existing.
I guess a quiet victory lunch is too much to ask for when it comes to Evelyn and Monica.
Evelyn stares daggers into me as she approaches with her best friend.
Her hands slam on the top of our table and she tries to pin me in place with the fury in her gaze.
But all I’m more focused on is whether she’s wearing contacts or not because, up close, there’s no way her iris has that bright of gold outlining her aqua eyes. “How dare you, you little bitch.”
“Evelyn!” Asher says, standing, “both of you back the fuck up, now.”
Monica scoffs at my boyfriend’s attempt to protect me, making me want to slap a bitch, but— “Is there something wrong, ladies?”
Evelyn snorts a sound, “Wrong? You mean blowing that business deal with your pitiful parents—”
“There was no business deal,” Asher interjects.
“You having me and Monica voted off the board—”
Well, that’s news to me.
“Or you using your gold digging sorry excuse of a plan to get knocked up with not only one possible father, but three wealthy men, one being your best friend’s father.
How desperate are you that you think you can walk into my world, spread them, and throw me out like trash?
Monica and I were here long before you, little girl, and we’ll be here long after these three idiots toss you aside for a newer version just like all men do. ”
I purse my lips, nodding, bringing my water to my lips for a quick drink.
Talk about word vomit. It’s amazing the amount of tea a woman scorned can spill in less than ten minutes, but for all her insults and the shared anger between her and Monica, I’m not going to give them this.
“Please, ladies,” I say, picking up my fork to resume eating my meal, “have a seat so we can discuss this.”
“Mon coeur?”
I give Asher a soft smile, “I’m fine, baby, really.
Maybe they’d enjoy a helping, as well. I’m sure Monica misses your cooking and we both know with our baby on the way, you won’t be as involved in the restaurants as you are now.
She might as well have something to do with her mouth since Evelyn is doing all the talking. ”
Okay that was bitchier than I intended but it’s not like they didn’t have it coming.
Asher returns to sit next to me, putting an arm around my shoulders and turning my face to his with his fingers on my chin. “I’m not leaving you alone with them, Harper.”
“I know you don’t want to, but neither of them are going to hurt me or do the dumb thing and cause a bigger scene than they already have,” I say to him, “they’re all about optics and, though bad publicity is still publicity, berating a pregnant expecting mother is one of the worst optics that no one can sweep out of sight in cancel culture.
I promise you, I’m safer here than behind closed doors with them. ”
He seems to think about it before he motions to one of the restaurant servers and orders two more plates of food.
I’m not upset that he refuses to let me have a moment with his and Killian’s exes, it’s actually nice to have someone not steamroll the situation or threaten anyone.
He’s the crisp, cool water of our quad, and right now, that crisp water isn’t going to let me wade into unknown currents on my own.
God, I love him.
Evelyn and Monica exchange a look before Evelyn pulls out the chair across from me and sits like she’s doing the furniture a personal favor. Monica follows, and for a moment the two of them just stare at me like they’re waiting for me to flinch. I pick up my fork and go back to eating.
Asher settles in closer, his arm coming back around my shoulders, his thumb moving in that slow rhythm up and down my arm, and I lean into the warmth of him without thinking about it. He doesn’t make a thing of it. He just stays.
“You do realize,” Evelyn starts, recovering her composure like she never lost it, “that your little boyfriend being on the board was the only reason that vote held. Without Killian leveraging his position, Monica and I keep our seats and this whole charade falls apart.”
“You lost your seats because the board agreed you should,” Asher says, even and direct. “Don’t make it simpler than it is.”
Monica pivots to me. “You came here and disrupted everything that was working.”
I set my fork down.
“Are you two done making me the villain yet?”
“Well what would you call a conniving, manipulative—”
“Evelyn.”
It just comes out. I wasn’t even planning to say anything, I just said her name, and there’s a beat of silence where all three of us realize I accidentally answered her question, and Asher makes this sound next to me like he’s swallowed something, and I have to fold my lips under my teeth for a second to get it together before I look back at Evelyn with my most reasonable expression.
“Why would either of you blame me for your own choices?”
“Because everything was fine before you showed up,” Monica says.
“Fine?” I put my hands in my lap so I’m not tempted to gesture with my fork.
“You mean the version of fine where you treated Asher like an accessory you weren’t sure you wanted to keep?
He was better to you after you broke his heart than most men would be to someone who’d done what you did to him and you know it.
That’s not fine. That’s him being a better person than the situation required. ”
Monica’s jaw tightens. Asher doesn’t move beside me, but I feel him go very still.
“And Evelyn,” I say, and she tilts her chin up like she’s preparing for impact, “in the years I’ve been Sophia’s best friend, you’ve never shown this much interest in her life or in this estate unless there was something in it for you.
The most present you’ve been in that girl’s world since I’ve known her is these last few months, and we both know it’s not because you suddenly discovered maternal instinct.
You walked back in swinging because I was here and I was easy to aim at. ”
Neither of them says anything.
“You’re blaming me because you both let go of something that turned out to be worth holding onto, and it’s easier to make me the problem than to sit with that.
I didn’t take anything from either of you.
I showed up and the people you didn’t value enough started feeling valued and that’s not my fault.
That’s just what happens when someone decides to actually show up. ”
Evelyn holds my gaze for a long moment. Something shifts in it, barely, fast, and then she straightens and picks up her bag and she looks at me one more time with an expression I don’t have a name for, and she leaves.
Monica doesn’t move right away. She’s looking at Asher, not at me, and there’s something real in her face for about two seconds before she puts it away.
“He seems settled,” she says, quietly, like it’s not really for me.
“I am,” Asher says. Not unkindly. Just true.
She nods once and goes.
The dining room settles back into itself. Asher’s arm is still around me and his thumb starts moving again, slow and easy, and I sit with that for a second before I let out a breath that’s been building since those heels hit the marble.
“That was impressive,” he says.
“I accidentally called Evelyn conniving to her face.”
“You really did.”
“By saying her name.”
“Beautifully,” he says, and presses his mouth to my temple, and I laugh for the first time all day, really laugh, and it feels incredible.
He pulls me in close for a second, just holds me, and I close my eyes, breathe him in, and let myself have it.
Then he says, “Finish your lunch, mon coeur.”
I smile against his shoulder before I sit back up saying, “Yes, sir.”