Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Harper
“You cannot be fucking serious, Harper,” Emma snaps from the doorway.
I don’t turn to look at her, I just put in my other hoop earring. She has not taken the fake engagement news well. At all. She’s beyond mad.
“Don’t ignore me, Harper Jones. I’m not going away.”
I sigh, turning to face her. “I don’t have a choice,” I say.
She shakes her head. “Yeah. You do. You get in your car, you drive to New Falls, and you speak to Ace. Simple. Fuck, even tell him your boss is on the verge of blackmailing you. You can’t do this.”
I close my eyes. Oh, how I wish it were that simple.
“If I tell Ace that, he will come here, probably shoot up LA Press, get arrested just like his brother did, and that helps no one. Especially not Ace. I’m an adult; this is my mess, I’ll fix it. It’s a fake engagement. Not real. I’m not marrying him.”
She nods. “Have you fucked Hudson?”
I cackle. “Absolutely not.”
“Well, that’s something. If he traps you and gets you pregnant, I’ll slice his balls off on a live stream.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not having sex with him. And I’m on birth control.”
I throw in the last line just to help argue my case. Aliens will appear on Earth before I ever sleep with that man.
“Oh, how silly of me. No, I won’t sleep with him, but I will say yes to his proposal.”
“So I can go back to New Falls and make sure secrets stay hidden. It’s important. Okay?”
She rubs her eyes. “I guess. I’m worried about you, Harper.”
I offer her a soft smile. “I promise you. I’m fine. I’m going home tomorrow, and I’ll get the story Hudson needs. He will get the company signed over to him. I’ll get a huge ass raise. We will be sweet. I just have to ride this shit show out. Character building? Right?”
I’m not even sure that’s what I want anymore.
She laughs. “You have some hellish ways to character build. Most people go to yoga classes or wellness retreats. You? You walk into a mafia war and have cocktails with their leader.”
I hold up my hand. “She’s second-in-command. Technically.”
“Gianna Milano sounds deadly.”
I shrug. “Seemed quite nice to me.”
“My God, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Maybe,” I say, stepping towards her and wrapping my arms around her.
“Thank you for being my friend, Emma. Even in my craziness,” I whisper, fighting back the tears.
“I’ll protect your ass until the day I die. You know that.”
She pulls back. “You look beautiful, Harper. It just sucks that your first engagement is going to be fake.”
“Ha-ha. It’s my practice go.”
She nods, biting back a grin. “Practice one before Ace finally does it.”
That’s like a kick to the gut. That was my dream once upon a time. The only way I saw my future. I remember walking past a store window and my perfect ring was right there. We both stopped and stared at it. It was a diamond, but a yellow haze to it.
The more I debate what the hell I’m doing with my life here, the more obvious it is of what I really see in my future. And once this is all over, I’ll seriously think about reaching back out to Ace.
So I don’t reply to Emma, because I don’t know what to say. She squeezes my shoulder.
“Shot before you go?”
“You got tequila?” I ask.
“Yep.”
And after that conversation—not that I ever have any intention of letting Hudson’s dick near me—I’m grabbing my birth control and shoving that in my purse.
"Wow, Hudson," I whisper as he leads me through his parents' entrance.
Cascading spiral staircases on either side. The marble floors are so polished I can see my own reflection staring back at me. A girl in a yellow sundress and cowgirl boots, standing somewhere she doesn’t belong, again.
Everything is immaculate. Everything is curated. Even the flowers on the entryway table look like they've been arranged by someone who went to school for it.
And here I am. Nose ring. Thumb ring. A fake smile and a real sense of dread.
Hudson wanted me to embrace my cowgirl side tonight. He thinks that's what his parents fell for at the gala. That I'm not, as he put it, a glamor model looking for money and power. I'm just a girl in love with a man. The kind of story people would write about and binge-read on a Sunday afternoon.
Except this isn't my story. Not a romance, anyway. More of a psychological thriller.
His mom glides in from one of the side doors with a bright smile, arms already open.
"Hudson, my dear. Come here." She drags him in for a hug, pressing her cheek against his chest, and he lets her.
"Hi, Mom."
I stand back and watch. It's actually sweet. I didn't expect this kind of loving family dynamic—Hudson doesn't behave in a way that suggests he was loved. I half expected his coldness to come from a cold house.
But this house is warm. These people are warm. And I think maybe Hudson is just… a bit of an asshole. I'm sure I'll find out more about the real him. Seeing as I'm about to be engaged to said pain in my ass.
Audrey steps in front of me, resting her hands on my shoulders. Her perfume is soft floral, reminds me of my grandma.
"Look at you, Harper. Glowing. You look absolutely beautiful," she gushes.
I smile. "So do you, Mrs. Blake."
She tuts. "None of that, Harper. Call me Audrey. We're practically family now."
I swallow. Keep the smile stapled to my face.
"Audrey," I repeat. "Thank you so much for inviting me into your home."
Audrey grins at her son. "So polite. It's our pleasure. Would you like to come through to the dining room?"
I nod, and she leads the way. The dining room is long and candlelit, with fresh flowers in low arrangements down the center of a mahogany table that could seat twenty but is set for four.
Richard is at the head, watching us enter with those sharp green eyes.
He looks thinner than at the gala. The cane is propped against his chair.
"Son," he greets Hudson with a nod.
"Harper. Lovely to see you again," he says, and erupts into a coughing fit that shakes his whole frame.
I freeze. Audrey rushes over and hands him his water, one hand on his back, that same practiced gesture I noticed at the gala.
"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head. Annoyed with himself. With his body for betraying him in front of company.
"No need to apologize, Mr. Blake," I say with a smile as Hudson guides me to my seat, pulling it out. Almost resembling a gentleman.
"Thank you," I whisper and sit.
I nearly die when he leans in and kisses my cheek. Not a quick peck. A kiss. Slow enough that his parents see it. Deliberate enough that my skin crawls.
Hudson settles into the chair beside me. A waiter appears in a black tux, carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes. I take one, and Hudson snickers beside me.
"What's so funny?" Audrey asks.
I take a sip and turn to face him.
"Harper is more of a whiskey gal," he tells them.
I shoot him a glare as he wraps his arm around my shoulders.
"This champagne is lovely, though," I say, holding up the glass.
"Only teasing." He grins, making his parents laugh.
He plays the card well. I'll give him that.
Hudson clears his throat. My heart begins to hammer.
"Before we eat, there is actually something I'd like to do." He stands.
My mouth drops open, just like I practiced in the bathroom mirror an hour ago.
He pulls the ring box from his pocket.
A gasp escapes me. Right on cue.
"Harper Jones. I loved you from the second I laid eyes on you when you walked through those doors at LA Press. Your smile that lights up a room. The way you make me laugh without even saying a word. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
He drops to one knee.
Jesus Christ.
My cheeks are burning. Not from joy. From embarrassment. From the absurdity of kneeling in front of three people and pretending this is real, while the woman across the table is clapping with tears in her eyes, and the dying man at the head of the table is smiling for the first time all evening.
"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"
Audrey squeals from across the table. I haven't even said yes.
"Yes," I say. "Yes, I'll marry you."
I launch myself out of the chair, and he stands, wrapping his arms around me. His hand strokes my cheek, his eyes burning into mine.
And for that split second, I picture Ace's dark eyes. His rough hands on my face. The way he used to hold me after, like I was something precious he was terrified of dropping.
"Can I kiss you now?" Hudson whispers.
I nod. This is for show. It isn't real.
His lips land on mine. He's a good kisser, technically. But it does nothing for me. No heat. No electricity crackling down my spine. No one ever does.
He pulls away with a smile. "Thank you," he says against my lips.
I look up at him and fake a smile. Because maybe this arrangement can work. Maybe he's a friend. Someone who can help my career while I help his inheritance. A transaction dressed up in candlelight.
He slides the ring onto my shaking finger and threads his hand through mine.
Audrey is almost bursting. It makes me feel even worse.
"So, when is the big day?" she asks.
I clear my throat.
"Not for a while," Hudson replies. Almost stuttering.
Richard's eyes move between my fiancé and me. I see what Hudson means, he’s totally suspicious.
"I'd like to see my only son get married before I die," he says bluntly.
My hand falls from Hudson's. He doesn't let it slip. He grips tighter.
"Well, that is entirely up to my gorgeous bride," Hudson says with a smile that's working overtime.
I nod along. "I can see which dates we could make work. I have a big family back in Arizona, so it will be a lot to plan."
Richard chuckles. "Spare no expense, Harper. This wedding is on us."
I smile as best I can. "That's lovely of you."
Fuck, this is a rabbit hole I do not want to go down.
We sit back down, and I am reeling. I can barely touch my food. This was not the plan. One date. That was the deal. One date and my debt is cleared.
Now I'm wearing a ring. A huge ass ring.
I am not marrying my boss. At this rate, I might go back to New Falls and never return.
Course after course of things I can't taste fly by. I do my best to keep up, laughing when Audrey laughs, nodding when Richard speaks, letting Hudson's hand rest on my knee under the table because his parents can see our silhouettes through the candlelight, and this is the performance.
Then my phone buzzes in my purse.
And again. And again. Three calls.
I clear my throat and stand. "Hudson, where is the bathroom?"
"Out this door, take a right, it's there."
I nod, with my phone in my hand, I leave my purse where it is, and walk—don't run, walk as casually as I can to the bathroom. Lock the door behind me. Press my back against it.
Gianna's name on my screen. Three missed calls.
Fuck.
I hit dial and hold my breath.
"Harper. Hi. Are you busy?" Her voice is warm. I was expecting something huge, seeing as she just called me three times in ten minutes.
"Uh. I'm just at Hudson's parents'."
She laughs. "Oh, how torturous. Would you want to meet me for a cocktail? Say, in an hour?"
I check the time. Already nine. But you don't say no to Gianna Milano.
"Yeah. Okay. Text me the address, I'll head there as soon as I'm done here."
"Perfect. I'll see you soon, Harps." A pause. "Oh, and keep this to yourself. I don't need that oaf knowing too much."
"No problem. Bye," I chirp, as if my palms aren't sweating from a phone call.
Great. Now I need an escape plan from my own engagement dinner.