2. Harper
Harper
Even two hours after I stormed out of Henry’s office, I can’t get Dawson’s smug look and snide comment out of my mind.
The way his striking green gaze moved up and down my body made me feel like I was under a microscope.
I hate that feeling, and he could tell. He is the kind of guy who likes making people feel uncomfortable.
He thrives on it. What a fucking prick. A prick that I’m going to have to deal with for the next year of my life. Fuck.
I can’t let him get to me. It’s enough that I have to listen to my mother’s constant criticism about my weight, my appearance, and pretty much anything I do. I learned to drown it out for the most part, and I have to do the same with Dawson’s bullying.
I try my best to ignore my impending doom by concentrating on the drawing on my desk.
I refine the eyelashes on the face I’m drawing when someone knocks on my door.
I lay my pencil down and get up from my chair to walk to the door.
When I open it, I find one of the maids, her arms full of things she looks like she is about to drop.
“Mr. Price asked me to bring this to you,” she says, her voice strained.
“Oh, let me help you,” I offer, as I start to take things off her pile. “Here, just drop it all on my bed.”
We carry everything across my room and dump it onto my mattress.
“Thank you, that was getting heavy,” she whispers as if she doesn’t want anyone to hear her complain.
“No problem, thanks for bringing this up,” I tell her as she scurries out of the room like she can’t get back to work fast enough. She closes the door quietly behind her, leaving me to sift through this pile alone.
There are multiple stacks of stapled papers, folders, a box with an iPad, a laptop, and a new phone. I pick up the papers at the very top. The heading reads Instructions .
I guess this is where I start.
Sign the contract, read over all of the material and familiarize yourself with company policies.
I note how it says to sign the contract but not to read it, which only makes me want to go through it even more. I look down at the thick folder that reads Company Policy .
This is going to take me forever to do.
My schedule is already on all of your devices. I need you to learn it inside out. I also need you to go through the client profiles and learn everyone’s names.
I’m a quick learner with a good memory, so I’m not terribly worried about those tasks. As long as I have enough time to prepare, I’ll be fine… then I read the next line.
You start tomorrow at 6AM, be prepared.
He can’t expect me to learn all of this overnight!
I flip through one of the folders, hoping to see a bunch of pictures and graphs. Instead, I find small print text, pages after pages. Ugh.
Shaking my head about this impossible task, I reach for the contract next. I take it to my desk and flop down on my chair. The document has over thirty pages which I intend to read entirely.
By the third page, I feel a headache coming.
By the fifth, I have the urge to rip this paper up, and by the tenth, I’m just so angry about this ridiculous contract, I’m ready to run downstairs and shove this down Dawson’s throat.
I don’t even finish reading it. There is no way in hell I’m signing this.
Grabbing the contract, I stand up and walk to open my door. I don’t make it down the end of the hallway before my mother’s voice stops me. “Where are you going, Harper? It’s not dinnertime yet, and you know you are not supposed to snack.”
My mother talks to me like I’m a misbehaving child and not an eighteen-year-old adult.
I grit my teeth and spin around to face her.
Even though she won’t leave the house today, she is wearing a full face of makeup.
Her long blonde hair falls in perfect waves down her shoulders, and she is wearing a silk wrap dress with matching high heels.
“Did you know about this?” I wave the papers in my hand.
“What are you talking about? What is that?” She questions, closing the distance between us.
“A contract Dawson wants me to sign. He wants me to work for him.”
My mother rolls her eyes. “Why are you being so ungrateful? He is offering you a job in his company. Some people would kill for an opportunity like this.”
“To work twenty-four-seven and basically get paid nothing?” I fire back.
“Oh please, don’t be so dramatic,” my mom says, with a wave of her hand. “Sign the contract and don’t embarrass me working for your new brother.” She dismisses me with a disapproving shake of her head before turning around to walk away.
What else did I expect from her?
Holding on to the paper, I make my way through the house to Henry’s office. The door is open, and I hear him and Dawson laugh about something. Probably about fucking me over.
I don’t knock. I step into the office and up to Henry’s desk to throw the contract down. “I’m not signing this.”
Henry’s laugh comes to a stuttering halt. His gaze bounces from the document to me. His eyes darkening, and for a moment, I’m taken aback by the anger he is suddenly radiating with. “Don’t interrupt me like this again,” he says, his tone threatening. “You knock before you enter my office.”
I want to tell him the door was open, and I don’t give a shit, but I’m not stupid either, so I hold my tongue and swallow my pride. “I’m sorry I barged in… but I’m not signing this.”
“And why not?” Dawson asks, leaning back in his chair. “Are you too good to work?”
“This is not a job; this is you owning me for a year.”
“Curious choice of words,” Dawson says dryly. “I’m paying you.”
“Minimum wage,” I fire back. “And this says you are deducting food and rent, which leaves me with nothing. Plus, it says I’m supposed to accompany you to business lunches and dinners, but I have to pay for my food myself.”
“You don’t have to eat when I eat,” Dawson says with a shrug of his shoulder.
“And when else am I going to eat? You have me working twelve hours a day, and the other twelve on call. I have no free time.”
“Enough!” Henry’s voice booms through the space, making me flinch.
I turn back to look at him and immediately regret my little outburst. Henry looks furious.
His jaw is set in a tight line, and I’m pretty sure he is about to pop a vein on his forehead.
“Fine,” he spits. “Pack your bags and leave then.”
And there it is. The one thing he knows he has hanging over me.
Yes, I’m eighteen and could go out on my own, but that’s easier said than done.
My mom had me homeschooled and kept me sheltered.
I never made any friends. I don’t have any extended family either, at least nothing that I know of.
I have nowhere to go. I could leave right now, but then what?
I have no money and nothing to my name. I would be homeless, and that fucking scares me.
Scares me enough to sober up and rethink my options here.
If I sign this, I’m basically his for a year. But he does actually have me working, which means I will have work experience, no matter what. Plus, if Henry keeps his word, he will pay for my schooling after the year is over.
“What’s it going to be?” Henry asks, tapping his index finger onto the contract. “Sign and work for a year, or pack your clothes and go?”
My shoulders sag in defeat. I’m too scared to go out on my own, and he fucking knows it. He plucks a pen from a cup on his desk and hands it to me. I suck in a breath before letting it out slowly. I grab the pen from his hand and flip through the contract to the last page.
Angry tears threaten to run down my face, but I blink them away. There is no way I’m letting them see me cry. I grip the pen so tightly I worry it might break as I sign my name on the line. I drop the pen and straighten back up.
“There, that wasn’t that hard,” Henry taunts. “You can go now. I’m sure you want to pack some stuff for the move.”
“What move?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“Didn’t you read the whole contract?” Dawson chuckles.
“I stopped halfway through,” I admit stupidly.
“Of course you did. Yet, you signed it.” He shakes his head like he is disappointed in me. “This is not a good start.”
“She’ll do better moving forward. Won’t you, Harper?” Henry jabs, with a smug grin.
“Of course,” I say through gritted teeth.
“If you would have read the whole thing, you would know that you will move into my penthouse with me,” Dawson explains. “You don’t have a car or a driver’s license, and I’m not paying to have you driven back and forth every day.”
Of course not. He’s a billionaire but can’t spring me some money for an Uber.
“When do you want me to move?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even.
“Tonight,” Dawson tells me like it’s no big deal at all. “We’re leaving in an hour. And you might want to review the section about the dress code before you pack your clothes.”
My hands are balled into fists by my side, my nails digging into my palm painfully as I plaster a smile on my face. “I’ll better go do that then.” I reach for the contract, but Dawson slaps his hand on it before I can grab it.
“I’ll hold on to the signed copy. This is on your computer under files.”
“Fine.” I pull back my hand and start to leave the room.
“Harper,” Henry calls after me when I’m almost at the door. I turn to look at him. “Don’t disappoint me.”
I give him the slightest nod, cause that’s all I can muster up under his intense glare. He looks away, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding in. Henry picks up a conversation with Dawson, and I take that as my dismissal.
I speed walk through the house and back to my room. Quickly opening the computer to look at the files. Luckily, there is not much in there, and I find the contract right away. I skim over most of it until I get to the dress code part.
Business attire should be worn during work hours unless otherwise instructed. Bright colors are prohibited.
Of course they are.