14. Elliot
ELLIOT
The elevator should have opened already. I knew she was in the building; the night guard had notified me of her arrival, and then the notification had come through on my phone when Harper’s code was used to access my penthouse apartment.
I sat on the couch, staring at the elevator doors; a glass of scotch rested in my hand, my shirt was intentionally still open.
The penthouse was quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside the windows and the pounding of my pulse.
Any minute now, any second. She would step off the elevator and be angry, or maybe hurt.
Maybe she’d throw something, yell, tell me I was an asshole, or cry…
All potential reactions I had been expecting.
All reasonable responses. What I hadn't expected was this feeling. This sickness sitting low in my stomach that came along with this tingly anxiousness that made me feel like I couldn’t breathe right.
The contract was sitting on my desk, a few rooms away. Printed and signed. Ready for her. It was for a year, but really what I was asking for was a future… or the closest thing I'd ever come to admitting I wanted.
I stared at the amber liquid in my glass, then thought about the brunette. Thought about her perfume and Harper walking past her. What that must have looked like. Did they talk? Did Natalia say anything to Harper?
The bile rose immediately, but I swallowed it back down. Pushed it away. Because the decision had already been made. What was done was done. I couldn’t change it now.
The elevator dinged, and my entire body went rigid.
Finally…
The doors slid open and I could feel my heart in my throat. But nobody was there. For a second, my brain refused to process it. I simply stared. Waiting for her to appear. But nothing happened. The elevator was empty.
My stomach dropped.
Slowly I stood, my whole body felt as if it were vibrating.
"No."
The word came out rough.
I crossed the room and looked inside.
Empty.
Completely empty.
"What the fuck?"
I hit the button. The doors closed and opened again.
Still empty.
The access notification was still on my phone. Harper had used the code. Harper was supposed to be in this elevator; she was supposed to be here.
Harper had...
The thought hit me like a truck. She'd left. She fucking left me. My chest tightened as that prickling anxious feeling rose.
Immediately my phone was in my hand.
I called her.
Straight to voicemail.
I called again.
Voicemail.
Again.
Voicemail.
A hot pulse of anger replaced the panic.
Are you serious?
You don't even have the decency to answer?
You don't even want to hear what I have to say?
I was halfway through another call when I stopped myself. Because suddenly another possibility occurred to me. She never intended to come up.
She saw Natalia leaving my elevator and left. Just left.
No questions, no conversation, no fight, no chance to discuss it… she didn’t even ask… Nothing.
The anger grew louder. Because it was easier than the alternative. Easier than wondering why the idea of never seeing her again suddenly felt like I couldn't breathe.
I called downstairs and the night guard answered immediately.
"Mr. Vale."
"Did Ms. Lane arrive?"
The words came out sharper than intended.
The guard hesitated, then said carefully, "Yes, sir."
"What happened?"
Another pause, then, "Ms. Lane entered the building."
My jaw clenched. "I know that."
"She arrived shortly before your other guest departed, and they crossed paths in the hallway."
I closed my eyes. "Then what?"
"She remained near your private elevator for several minutes."
Several minutes.
Jesus Christ.
Several minutes?
"What happened after that?" I asked even though I already knew the answer.
"She exited the elevator area and left the building."
Left.
The call ended, and I stood in the middle of my penthouse. Completely alone.
The city stretched beyond the glass. The contract sat waiting in my office; the ring waiting for me to pick it up from the jeweler…And suddenly none of it looked like a future.
Panic clawed at my throat, and I started to sweat. My phone was already dialling before I thought better of it. Rowan answered on the third ring. "What?"
"Find Harper."
Silence.
Then I heard a heavy exhale and, "What did you do?"
The question made the panicked, anxious feeling spike.
"Nothing." I said defensively.
Rowan laughed, a short, humourless sound. "Elliot."
"I didn't do anything."
"You don’t call me at this hour frantic unless you fucked up. So I will ask again… What did you do?"
Something in me snapped. "I called because I need information."
"And I asked a question," he retorted.
I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to push the panic down. "This isn't about me… I need you to look into Harper… I need…"
"You already have her file, and I am done with this conversation."
My temper flared. "Just find out where she was and where she is."
"No," the answer came immediately.
"What?" I gasped.
"No," Rowan repeated.
I stared at the phone, certain I'd heard him wrong.
"I am not chasing after Harper to help you clean up whatever mess you just made."
"Rowan… I need you to do your job!" I snarled.
"What did you do?" He asked again.
The third time somehow sounded worse. Because Rowan already knew. Somehow…
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, then at the empty elevator, at the empty apartment… Then at the glass in my hand. A minute later I was pouring another drink, and telling myself I had done nothing wrong.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Until I almost believed it.
I woke up on Sunday with a pounding headache, an empty apartment, and the knowledge that Harper still hadn't returned a single call.
By noon, I had convinced myself she was being unreasonable.
By two I was convinced she was punishing me.
By four, I was halfway through a bottle of expensive scotch and telling myself she had no right to be upset.
The arrangement was over; that was the whole point. The contract ended at midnight. I hadn't cheated. I hadn't lied or broken any rules.
The fact that the argument sounded weaker every time I repeated it was becoming increasingly problematic.
At five I got a call letting me know I had visitors, and for a moment I had hoped she had calmed down and come to see me. But it was Theo and Caleb who arrived a few minutes later.
Theo took one look at me and laughed. "You look like shit."
"Fuck off." I barked.
"Looks like somebody already did." He chuckled.
I glared at him, and Theo dropped onto my couch, completely unbothered by the hostility. Caleb remained standing, his eyes trailing over the space and then settling on me.
"So?" Theo asked.
"So what?"
"What happened?" Theo asked in an almost sing-song tone.
I took a drink, trying to ignore the question.
Finally, Caleb sighed. "Did you talk to her?"
"No."
Theo barked out a laugh. "Well, that's a great start."
"She left." I murmured.
Theo's eyebrows rose. "Left?"
"She came to the building." I added, and Caleb went still. I looked away from him before adding, "Then she left."
The silence stretched, then Theo asked carefully, "Why?"
I looked between them, looking for some kind of support, but neither of them seemed interested in helping me.
"She saw someone leaving."
Caleb closed his eyes, as if he physically couldn't deal with me.
"What?" I barked.
His eyes opened slowly. A pained expression on his face when he said, "Tell me you aren't that stupid."
My temper flared immediately. "I didn't do anything wrong."
Theo made a choking sound, and Caleb laughed. Actually, fucking, laughed at me.
"The arrangement was over," I snapped, feeling the need to defend myself.
"The arrangement?" Caleb repeated.
"Yes."
"The arrangement with the woman who spent your birthday holding you together?"
I looked away and downed what was in my glass.
"The woman who brought you cake?" Caleb continued. "The woman who showed up when nobody else could get you to answer your phone?"
"Stop."
"The woman you wanted more from?" Caleb was relentless, and that panicked feeling was back in full force.
I stood abruptly, yelling, "I said stop."
Caleb wasn't impressed. "Your answer to wanting more from her was calling an old hookup?
" The words landed like punches. One after another. But Caleb wasn’t done.
"Then making sure Harper knew about it? Not only knew about it…
" he paused, studying before shaking his head, saying, “You made sure she saw it?”
"That wasn't…"
"Intentional?" Caleb supplied.
I didn't answer. Because it had been. Not logically or in a way that made sense. But…
Caleb looked genuinely disgusted when he said, "You wanted this woman to stay."
I remained silent, but he did not. "You wanted a future with her."
I couldn’t answer, and Caleb continued, "You printed a new contract."
Theo's head snapped toward me. "What?"
Shit.
Caleb ignored him, his focus entirely on me when he said, "So your solution was to hurt her before she could hurt you."
The room went quiet.
Theo stared at me, then shook his head. "Huh."
"What?" I demanded, feeling worn out.
"I thought you liked her," he answered.
I scrunched up my brow because what did that have to do with anything? I looked down into my glass, saying, "I did… I do."
Theo scoffed, and it was such a harsh sound coming from him. "Hell of a way to show it."
Caleb and Theo left not long after they realized I wasn’t willing to talk about Harper anymore.
I stood in my perfectly curated penthouse that now felt empty and cold, staring out at the Chicago skyline, replaying everything that had happened leading up to this and trying to convince myself I had done nothing wrong.