Chapter 3 #2
I stood, legs still shaky, and walked to my back office. The small space smelled like cardboard and dust from the inventory boxes stacked against one wall. My ancient filing cabinet took up most of the floor space, papers and catalogs scattered across my desk in organized chaos.
I dropped Armand's card into the small trash can beside my desk, watching it flutter down among yesterday's coffee cup and crumpled receipts. Whatever he was offering, I didn't want it. I'd figure something else out, I had to.
The door chimed again. Excitement at possibly making a sale shot through me before reality could crush it. But when I walked back out, my heart stopped for an entirely different reason.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me.
Morgan stood in my doorway, looking like she'd stepped out of a magazine spread titled Effortless Wealth.
Her blonde hair was perfectly styled in loose waves that probably required an hour and expensive products, wearing a cashmere coat in camel that was definitely designer.
Her purse hung from one manicured hand and her makeup was so flawless it looked airbrushed.
She smiled, bright and fake as artificial sweetener, and moved into my shop like she owned it.
“Harper! I haven't been by in forever. The shop looks wonderful.”
You've never been here before. I didn't say that, just forced a smile that felt like broken glass cutting my face. “Thanks. Can I help you find something?”
“Oh, I'm just browsing.” She moved through the space with deliberate slowness, her manicured fingers trailing over racks like she was appraising merchandise at an auction. Her eyes took in every detail with calculating precision.
“Business must be good.” Morgan still didn't look at me. “You're always so busy when I drive past.”
I almost laughed. The shop had been empty most mornings for weeks. We both knew she was lying.
“It's fine.” My voice came out flat.
“That's good.” Morgan paused at a rack of spring dresses in soft yellow with white flowers. It would look beautiful on her, and we both knew it. She didn't try it on. Just put it back and moved on like it wasn't worth her time.
She picked up a scarf next from the display nearest the counter.
Silk, hand-painted, one of my more expensive items. She examined it with false interest, running the fabric through her fingers like she was evaluating its worth before setting it down and meeting my eyes.
Her expression shifted into something that might have been concern if I didn't know better.
“You know, Connor mentioned at dinner last week that you've been distant lately. Stressed. He's worried about you.”
The words hit me like a slap, stealing the air from my lungs. I remembered what Anna had told me about Morgan still showing up sometimes at Connor's on Saturdays.
“Connor and I are fine.”
“Are you?” Morgan's smile widened, and there was something triumphant in it now, something that made my skin crawl. “Because from what I've seen, you haven't been to his ranch in months or to Saturday dinners with the group. That's not like you, Harper. You and Connor used to be so close.”
Used to be. Before her.
My chest tightened, a familiar ache spreading beneath my ribs that I'd become way too acquainted with. “If you're not buying anything, I have work to do.”
“Of course. I won't keep you.” Morgan moved toward the door with unhurried grace, like she had all the time in the world and knew it. Then she paused, one hand on the door handle, and looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, Harper? If you ever need help, you can always ask.”
The concern in her voice was as fake as her smile, as manufactured as her sympathy.
“I'm fine.”
“I hope so.” Morgan's eyes swept over the boutique one more time, cataloging, assessing, probably already planning what she'd put here when I failed.
“This location really would be perfect for something more…
upscale. Professional. I've had a few inquiries from people interested if it becomes available.”
The threat was barely veiled, barely hidden beneath the veneer of neighborly concern. Bitch.
“See you around, Harper.”
Then she was gone, the door chiming cheerfully behind her like nothing had just happened.
I stood there for a long moment, my mind racing, my heart pounding, trying to process what had just happened. Maybe I was overthinking everything because I was exhausted and scared and desperate. Her visit probably meant nothing.
My phone buzzed on the counter, making me jump like I'd been shot with a text from Anna.
Anna
Dinner tonight! Connor's house, 6:30. I know it's not our usual night but Jaxon and I wanted to get everyone together. Please come? Connor said yes already.
Connor's house. Not Jaxon's cabin.
I should say no to protect myself from another evening of torture. I could stay home and figure out how to get two thousand dollars by Friday. But I’ve never been very good at protecting myself
My thumb moved before I could stop it.
I'll be there.
Anna
YAY! Can you come early? Like 5:30? I need help with something.
Sure. What do you need help with?
Anna
You'll see.
I stared at the smiley face for a long moment, suspicion creeping in. Anna was planning something. I could feel it, but I didn't have the energy to fight it. I didn't have the energy for much of anything anymore.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and tried to get back to work, but my mind kept circling back to the same thoughts of how my life was falling apart no matter which way I looked.
All I knew was that I was running out of time, running out of options, and running out of hope.
And tonight, I had to sit through dinner at Connor's house and pretend everything was fine. Again.