Chapter 12
Harper
“So you left him in your bed?” Ariel asks, leaning forward across our corner table at The Coffee Cove. She looks stunning in a gorgeous burgundy silk blouse and dark pants. But then she always does. It’s one of the perks of being a buyer for Fashion Fuels.
“Yeah, but after my shower, he was gone.”
Ariel raises an eyebrow. “Okay, let me get this straight.” She starts ticking off points on her manicured fingers. “The sex was incredible—”
“The best I've ever had,” I interrupt, then immediately regret being so honest when her eyes light up with interest.
“He's not a player, he's actually a decent guy, and you're living in the same apartment for the next two months.” She pauses, studying my face. “So why do you look like someone just told you Christmas is canceled?”
I slump back in my chair. “Don't you see? This is my one shot, Ariel. If I get involved with a player and it goes south, I'm screwed. It will ruin my company’s reputation. I've waited years for this chance.”
Ariel sighs. “It's just like you to overthink things. Can't you try living in the moment for once and actually enjoy yourself?”
I wince. “Am I really that bad?”
Ariel laughs. “Harper, remember junior year when Finn Scott asked you to prom?”
I groan. “Oh God, don't.”
“You spent three weeks analyzing every possible outcome.
What if his friends didn't like you? What if you had nothing to talk about? What if he was only asking because he felt sorry for you?” She shakes her head, grinning.
“Meanwhile, the poor boy was probably wondering why you needed two weeks to think about a simple yes or no question.”
“I was being practical,” I protest weakly.
“You were seventeen and terrified of taking a risk. Some things never change,” Ariel says.
Her words spark something defensive in me. “That's not fair. I do take risks, Ariel. Hayes & Company wouldn't exist if I didn't. I took out loans I couldn't afford, competed against companies ten times my size—”
“Professional risks,” Ariel interrupts gently. “You're fearless when it comes to business. But not when it comes to your personal life. You build walls so high that most people can't even find the door, let alone get through it.”
She’s right. I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, and even then, business took up a lot of my time.
“You think everything has to be some grand, life-defining moment. Maybe this thing with Cole doesn't have to be so serious. Maybe it's just good sex with a hot guy who happens to be your roommate.”
“You know I can't do casual,” I say. “I'm not built that way.”
“There's a first time for everything.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I'm honestly tired of talking about Cole and the mess I've created. “Enough about my drama. How's Miles?”
Ariel's expression immediately sours. “The more I live with him, the more I wonder why I fell for him. He's like a human sloth.”
I roll my eyes. “What did you expect? The man works three days a week and considers ordering takeout a major life accomplishment.”
“I know, I know. But he was so charming at first, and I was lonely after that disaster with Eric.” She draws a breath before continuing. “How do I get him out of my apartment without being a complete bitch?”
I watch my brilliant, beautiful best friend stress over how to diplomatically evict a man-child from her own apartment. Then again, I'm hardly one to judge.
I’ve just had mind-blowing sex with my brother’s best friend.
Maybe we're both disasters when it comes to relationships, just in opposite ways.
“Start leaving real estate listings around the apartment. Make yourself unavailable. Make him so uncomfortable he wants to leave.” I don't suggest she just tell him outright to leave because that's not Ariel. She's too kindhearted for the direct approach.
“Ooh, devious. I like it.” Ariel checks her watch and sighs. “Speaking of work, I need to get going. Emergency meeting about the spring runway preview.”
“On a Sunday?”
“Fashion never sleeps, darling.” She stands and shrugs on her designer coat. “You're going to work too, aren't you?”
“Just for a few hours. I want to write up my event report while everything is still fresh.”
“No rest for the wicked,” Ariel says, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “But Harper? Think about what I said. Not everything in life has to be a strategic decision.”
After she leaves, I sit for a few more minutes, finishing my coffee and watching the Sunday morning foot traffic.
Maybe Ariel has a point. Maybe I do overthink everything.
I pay the check and walk to my car. The drive to my SoHo office takes fifteen minutes in light Sunday traffic, and I use the time to push thoughts of Cole firmly out of my mind.
The office building is quiet, with only the security guard and a few other workaholics around. I like Sundays here. It’s just me, my computer, and the satisfaction of turning last night's triumph into actionable next steps.
I settle at my desk with a fresh cup of coffee and open a new document.
For the next four hours, I lose myself in the work. I work on vendor performance evaluations, guest feedback summaries, budget reconciliation, and lessons learned for future events.
My phone buzzes around two PM. Brett's name flashes on the screen.
“Hey, Stubbs.” His voice fills me with instant warmth. “I saw some photos from last night on the Renegades' social media. That gala looked incredible.”
“It was amazing,” I say, pride in my voice. “Everything went perfectly. The sponsors were thrilled, and the media coverage was incredible.”
“That's my sister! I knew you'd knock it out of the park. I'm so proud of you, Harper. This is huge.”
“Thanks. It feels surreal, honestly.”
“Listen, I'm actually in the city with a few guys from the team. We flew down for a charity event.”
“Oh, Cool.”
“Anyway, we’ll be done in a couple of hours, and we’re thinking of grabbing an early dinner before we fly back. Want to join us? I haven't seen you in forever.”
“I'd love that.” The prospect of seeing my brother fills me with unexpected happiness. “Where and when?”
“How about that Italian place you like in Little Italy? Primavera’s? Around four?”
“Perfect. I'll be there.”
“What are you doing now? Please tell me you're not working on a Sunday.”
I glance at my computer screen, covered with spreadsheets and vendor reports. “Maybe a little.”
“Harper Elizabeth Hayes, it's Sunday afternoon. You just pulled off the event of a lifetime. Take a break.”
“Look who's talking. Don't you usually train on your days off?”
Brett's relentless work ethic inspired me to approach my own career with the same dedication. Cole is exactly the same way, spending evenings reviewing game footage and mornings in the gym before dawn.
I wonder what Cole is doing right now. He’s probably at the gym or analyzing plays for next week's practice. The thought slips in before I can stop it, and I immediately chastise myself.
Why does he keep sneaking into my thoughts?
I shake my head and focus on Brett's voice. This dinner will be the perfect distraction. Just me, my brother, and his teammates.
“That's different. That's hockey,” Brett says, jerking me back to the present.
“This is my career too,” I point out.
“Touché. But seriously, you work too hard. Promise me you'll celebrate this win properly.”
“I promise. See you at four.”
After we hang up, I find myself grinning at my computer screen. Brett has that effect on me. He’s the one person who has always believed in my dreams, so having him in the city feels like the perfect way to celebrate last night's success.
I won’t think about Cole or the complications we've created. I'm just excited to see my big brother and share this moment with him.