Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
DAVIS SCOTT NEVER missed a chance to promote his own self-importance. Hence why they were in the midst of a party celebrating Scott Solutions turning thirty. Yep, it was the business’s birthday… Was there going to be cake?
Every client, past and present, had been invited to the hotel ballroom, hired to accommodate them and every contact in their proverbial rolodexes. Not as flashy as a Grand Hotel ballroom, but it did the job.
Adara and Carnell were on the dance floor, her mother and father networked with every new face. Damon and Charissa had disappeared somewhere a while ago. Judging by how they’d been recently, they were either screaming in each other’s faces or ripping their clothes off.
Life ticked along.
Harper put her empty glass aside.
“Would you like another drink?” her date, Donald, asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
And keep ‘em coming. How was she back here again so soon? Life teased her with happiness only to remind her of the true order. She was the woman who couldn’t keep a man, yep, that had been proven once again.
“Wait here,” Donald said. “I’ll be right back.”
They’d seen each other a couple of times that week.
Donald was a pleasant enough man to spend time with but standing there examining the smiling, glamorous faces present, her thoughts returned to the man she hadn’t seen for two weeks.
Memory had tormented her with him over and over. She couldn’t catch a break.
Time to distract herself. Marcie Weathers wore a salmon dress that was four sizes too large. The woman had successful gastric band surgery, yet hadn’t sprung for the wardrobe to match.
Matthew Huggett was here. The youngster couldn’t be more than fourteen but he stood there rigid, struggling to project the image of a suave businessman in a designer suit.
Had Bastian been the same at that age? Had Bastian always been discerning?
Always been astute and perceptive? Or was it something he’d made a conscious choice to work on?
So much for distraction.
“Harper?”
She turned with the expectation of facing another of her father’s clients. The fact that he sounded like Bastian was nothing unusual. She often heard his voice for no reason.
Except this time there was a reason. It was him. It was actually…
“Bastian, hi. I didn’t think… What are you doing here?”
“I got an invite,” he said.
No surprise, damnit, she should’ve considered the possibility.
“You did?” Harper smiled. There were so many people in this room. So many people watching. Just like the night they met. Though she hadn’t understood his confidence then. “You didn’t have to accept it.”
That wasn’t bitchy just, relevant. What had he been thinking?
“I didn’t have anything else to do tonight,” he said. “It’s important to support local business.”
“Ah! Bastian!”
Adara rushed up to kiss both of Bastian’s cheeks.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, shaking Carnell’s hand.
“We’ve missed you,” Adara said. “Did Harper tell you about her award?”
“Award?”
“For charitable services,” Adara said. “There’s an award ceremony next month.”
“Congratulations,” Bastian said.
During the Bastian drought, she kept telling herself that her mental picture of him was exaggerated. That she was making him a big deal when he wasn’t a big deal. He was a man. Like any man. But, boy, she’d been low balling it.
He was taller, broader, prouder than she remembered. Had she really shared a bed with this guy? No way. A guy like that wouldn’t look her way twice. Their brief time together seemed surreal. Like a dream she’d conjured to placate her ego.
Adara was talking about trouble with her wedding venue. Bastian listened intently, his focus absolute on Adara. See, they were strangers, they didn’t have time together, they had a scheme. Cooked up as some kind of charity to combat her pitiful life.
The reality of what they were slapped her right across the face when a stunning five eleven blonde joined their group by sliding her hand inside Bastian’s elbow.
“Everyone this is Audine Slivinski,” Bastian said. “These are my friends, Adara and her fiancé Carnell, and her sister Harper.”
Audine shook hands with them. Polite. Personable.
Adara’s sister. Is that how he’d just introduced her? Adara’s sister? They’d got naked together but she’d been slotted into a social space beneath her sister? They only knew each other because of her.
“What do you do?” Adara asked Audine.
“Can’t you tell by looking at her,” Carnell mumbled, earning himself a not-so-discreet shove from his fiancée.
“I’m a model,” Audine said.
“Drink.” Donald joined the group and handed her a glass. Ah, redemption. She downed half the contents. “Donald,” he introduced himself to Bastian and Audine.
“Donald’s an insurance broker,” Adara said. “A successful one.”
Bless her.
Her sister was trying to help yet somehow managed to make her feel worse. Luckily that was the moment Damon started gesturing for her attention from across the room. Luckily? Had she ever thought that word would precede Damon’s name?
“Excuse me,” she said, putting her glass into Adara’s hand and leaving the group to get to Damon. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you,” he said, grabbing her arm.
She stayed put. “What’s wrong?”
Damon sighed. “It’s over.”
“I don’t understand what—”
“It’s over, Charissa and me, it’s over.”
“What? Oh my God.” Her hands fell to his chest when she stepped closer. “Are you okay? What happened?”
Damon took hold of her other arm too. “I couldn’t do it anymore. We’ve not been happy for a while.”
“I’m so sorry,” Harper said. “You have to do what’s right for you both. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” Damon said. “I’m pretty shaken up.”
“Sure,” she said. “Of course you are.”
“Harper,” Bastian’s voice came from behind her again.
Though she turned, Damon didn’t let go.
Damon’s expression hardened. “What’s he doing here?” he demanded. “I thought you were with Don.”
“I am,” Harper said. “Bastian was invited.” And not by her, so what was she doing? “Bastian this isn’t the best time.”
“Can I tempt you into a dance?”
“We’re busy,” Damon said.
“Go upstairs to the lounge,” Harper said. They’d used this hall so often that they’d had cause to use the offices upstairs too. “I’ll come up in a minute.”
“Alone?”
“Yes,” she said. “Go.”
Damon lingered long enough to glare at Bastian again. Okay, yes, everyone saw it. Grumpy. Grumpy. A moment later he did as told and disappeared into the stairwell.
Folding her arms, she turned to Bastian. “What’s up?”
He tried to take her hand, but she tucked it out of the way. Contact would not make this moment any easier.
“You don’t want to dance?”
“You should dance with Audine,” she said. “I have to help a friend.”
“A friend? You’re being sucked back into Damon’s orbit again?”
“I’m with Donnie now.”
“With him?” Bastian said. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“A week.”
Though not really, to say “seeing him” was kind of a stretch.
“Are you sleeping with him?”
Who in the hell did this guy think he was? What gave this gorgeous billionaire the right to ask Adara’s sister questions?
The demand provoked her frown. “You want to know if I’m having sex with Donnie? What would Audine think about that? She’s dazzling, she suits you.”
In her aim to be amiable, she won herself a shot of his scowl.
“She suits me?”
“Yes,” Harper said, dropping her arms to her sides. Bastian was a handsome man, which made it oddly easy to resign herself to their differences. “You make a beautiful, sophisticated couple. Your kids will be gorgeous.”
“Our kids?”
“I’m just playing,” Harper said, smoothing his lapel. “I know you don’t have time for those things yet.”
“What things?”
“Getting too invested. Your priority is your business, and, believe me, I can understand that.”
“You look beautiful.”
Her black linen dress hung on a boat neck and grazed her mid-thigh. The compliment was a formality, she got that.
“Thank you.”
“You always look beautiful,” he said.
Okay, he didn’t have to lay it on thick. “Charmer.” She smiled. “I should get upstairs to—”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Your question?”
“Are you sleeping with Donald?”
She couldn’t understand the origin or purpose of his dark edge.
“Is that relevant?”
In public, Bastian tended to be subdued. Until then anyway.
Tension radiated off him with such ferocity, it was concerning.
“I need to know.”
She rested a hand on his forearm. “What’s the matter? Has something happened? Is it Carolyn, or Keely? Is your father okay?”
“This is not about my blood family.”
“Good,” she said. “I’m glad they’re okay. Tell them I said hello.”
She left Bastian to enter the stairwell. Less than three stairs up, her arm was grabbed, she was yanked back and pinned flush against the wall, the perpetrator’s forearms planted either side of her head.
Bastian.
“Look at me, Sweet,” he growled, his breath fogging her forehead.
She blinked up. Darkness hovered around him, closing in, somehow shrinking the world. He lowered himself within reach of her mouth, eyes probing hers just before he joined their lips.
Visceral memory flooded her body with a rush of heat.
This.
Him.
Bastian kissed her with an urgency that slammed her with another memory. Walking out of his office had been the longest, most difficult trek of her life.
Leaving was right. Ending their agreement was the logical, honorable thing to do.
His arms swept around her, stretching her to the very tips of her toes to hold her close, trapping her between him and the wall with a grip so strong, her ribs hurt.
When his tongue touched her lip, she opened to welcome its arrival.
Her own urgency translated to her fists locking in his hair, holding him right where she needed him.
She wasn’t done. This could be the last chance she had to do this.
Not kissing him goodbye in his office was one of her biggest regrets.
And why hadn’t she?
Because that kiss would’ve become this: desperation.