Chapter 21
Harper
I'm dressed and ready for work, but I can't stop staring at my phone. Cole and I spent all of yesterday going over different scenarios, planning how to handle the media attention. He made me put my phone away for most of the day, but now that morning is here, I can't tear my eyes from the screen.
The photos are everywhere. Instagram, Twitter, entertainment blogs, and even legitimate news outlets. They've connected the dots about Brett being my brother, and the articles are already hinting at nepotism.
Event Planner's Secret Romance with Hockey Captain Raises Questions About Contract Award.
The headline that makes my stomach churn.
“Harper.” Cole's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. He's standing by the coffee maker, watching me with concern. “You need to eat something.”
“I can't.” I scroll through another article, this one speculating about my past company’s success. “Look at this. They're saying I slept with you for the job.”
Cole moves to sit beside me at the kitchen island, gently taking my phone and setting it face down. “We talked about this yesterday. These people don't know you. They don't know what you're capable of.”
“But they're writing about me like they do.” My voice comes out laced with panic. “What if potential clients believe this? What if my current clients start questioning my work?”
“Then they were never worth having as clients in the first place.” He reaches for my hand, but I pull away, needing space to process everything.
“That's easy for you to say. Your career isn't in jeopardy here.”
Cole's expression tightens. “Harper, we'll get through this together. It's going to blow over.”
I want to believe him, but the knot in my stomach tells me otherwise. I grab my purse and portfolio, checking my watch. “I need to go.”
“Let me drive you to work,” Cole offers, standing as I head toward the door.
“No.” The last thing I need is to be seen with Cole. “That'll just give them more photos to splash across the internet. I'll call you later,” I say, already heading for the door.
My legs are trembling on the elevator ride down to the basement garage. My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Ariel, and I answer immediately.
“I would have called earlier, but I was waiting for a decent hour,” she says, getting right to the point. “How are you holding up?”
“I'm scared, Ariel.” The words come out in a rush. “I'm terrified about what this means for my company.”
“What's the worst that can happen?” she asks, her tone practical.
I take a deep breath. “People will think I got the Renegades contract because I'm sleeping with the captain and I'm Brett's sister.”
“Okay, so they'll talk. And then they'll shut up when the next scandal comes along.” I can hear Ariel moving around her apartment. “The management at the Renegades knows you're doing a fantastic job. Hell, people didn't even know you and Brett were siblings until yesterday.”
“Now they do,” I say miserably, pulling out of the parking garage.
“They'll talk and then shut up,” Ariel insists. “Trust me on this.”
I'm about to respond when I turn the corner toward my office building and my blood runs cold. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“There's a horde of paparazzi outside my office.” At least fifteen photographers and reporters are camped outside the entrance to my building, cameras ready. “I can't get through that.”
“Is there a back entrance?” Ariel asks.
“Not that I know of.”
“Then fight your way in and don't look ashamed,” she says firmly. “You haven't done anything wrong.”
We say goodbye, and I sit in my car for a moment, gathering courage. Through my windshield, I can see the photographers notice my approach. Cameras start flashing even though I haven’t left my car.
I take a deep breath, grab my things, and step out of the car.
“Harper! Harper Hayes!” they shout, rushing toward me. “How long have you been sleeping with Cole Maddox?”
“Did you use your relationship to secure the Renegades contract?”
“Are you worried about conflict of interest accusations?”
“Are you planning to continue working with the team?”
The questions are invasive and cruel, but I keep my head up and push through the crowd. Someone shoves a microphone in my face, and I have to resist the urge to knock it away.
“No comment,” I say firmly, reaching the building entrance.
I burst into the lobby and shut the door. I’m safe for now, but I know they'll be there when I leave in the evening.
My team is waiting for me when I reach our floor. Jessica, James, and Amber immediately usher me into the conference room, their faces full of concern and support.
“We've been fielding calls since seven AM,” Jessica says gently. “How are you doing?”
“I've been better.” I sink into a chair, suddenly exhausted despite the day having barely begun.
“For what it's worth,” Amber says, “I think you and Cole make a beautiful couple. That photo of you two at the auction, everyone can see how much you care about each other.”
“Thanks.” The kindness in her voice almost makes me cry.
“What do you need from us today?” James asks.
“Normal. I need everything to be as normal as possible.” I stand up, straightening my shoulders. “I'm going to review our current project timeline. Can you handle any media calls that come in?”
“Of course,” Jessica says. “We've got your back.”
In my office, I try to lose myself in work. I review vendor contracts, update project timelines, and respond to client emails. For a few moments, I almost forget about the chaos outside.
Then James knocks on my door, his expression grim.
“What is it?” I ask, though I'm not sure I want to know.
“Clients are calling,” he says quietly. “Some of them are pulling back.”
My heart stops. “What do you mean pulling back?”
“The Morrison wedding next month. They've decided to go with another planner.” He looks uncomfortable delivering the news. “And the tech startup's product launch event. They want to reassess their vendor relationships.”
“It's only been a few hours since the news broke,” I say, more to myself than to James.
“I know. I'm sorry, Harper. But there might be more calls like this today.”
After James leaves, I sit alone in my office, staring at my computer screen without really seeing it. The thing I was most afraid of is already happening. My professional reputation is being destroyed, and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
I stay holed up in my office all day and leave a lot later than I normally would. There are only a few paparazzi waiting, and I don’t bother hiding my face. They can take all the pictures I want.
Cole and I end up staying in his apartment, ordering takeout for dinner, and trying to pretend everything is normal. But I can feel myself pulling away from him emotionally, building walls to protect what's left of my heart.
“The media was camped outside my office all day,” I tell him, picking at my Thai food.
Cole's jaw tightens. “I'm sorry. I knew there would be attention, but I didn't think it would be this intense.”
I don't tell him about the lost contracts. I can't bear to see the guilt in his eyes, to have him blame himself for something that's not entirely his fault.
“Everything will be all right,” he says, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “This will blow over.”
“I hope so,” I say, not pulling away but not squeezing back either.
“I have a meeting with management tomorrow,” Cole says. “They want to discuss the situation.”
“What do they want?” Fear creeps into my voice. “Are you in trouble?”
“I don't know, and I'm not concerned.” He shrugs. “My personal life is my private business. As long as it doesn't affect my performance on the ice, they can't do anything.”
“I wish I were that confident about my future,” I say, bitterness in my voice. Resentment against him builds up inside me.
“Harper, relax. Everything is going to be okay.”
But as I look at his confident face, his unwavering certainty that everything will work out, I realize he doesn't understand what I'm losing. His career is secure, protected by contracts and talent and years of proven success.
Mine is built on reputation and trust, and both of those things can be destroyed in a single news cycle.
Everything is not going to be okay. And Cole cannot possibly understand that.
I push the food away and stand up abruptly, my stomach churning with anxiety and resentment. “I can't eat anymore.”
Cole looks up at me with concern. “Harper.”
“I'll sleep in the guest room tonight, if you don't mind.” The words come out flat and emotionless.
“I do mind.” His voice is firm but gentle. “Come on, don't do this.”
“I need some time alone tonight.” I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling cold despite the warmth of his apartment.
“Harper, please don't pull away from me.” There's a desperation in his voice that I've never heard before. “We can get through this together, but not if you shut me out.”
The hurt in his eyes makes guilt twist in my chest, but I can't bring myself to comfort him. Not when my entire professional life is crumbling around me while his remains completely untouched.
“I'm not shutting you out,” I say quietly. “I just need space to think. To figure out how to handle all of this.”
“We can figure it out together.”
I shake my head. “From where I'm standing, this is my problem to solve. You get to go to your meeting tomorrow confident that your career is secure. I get to watch mine fall apart in real time.”
Cole stands up, reaching for me, but I take a step back. The distance between us feels like a chasm.
“One night,” I say. “Just give me one night to process this without having to worry about how you're feeling, too.”
He stares at me for a long moment, and I can see him wrestling with whether to push or give me what I'm asking for.
“Okay,” he says finally. “One night. But Harper? We're going to talk about this tomorrow. Really talk.”
I nod, already heading toward the guest room, feeling both relief and an aching loneliness at the thought of sleeping alone.