Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I ... I don’t think that I fully appreciated the opportunities that were open to me at Ulrich Sports,” Portia said. She cleared her throat and I sensed something more was coming. “Harper made sure to tell me that.”
I blinked at her. “Harper?”
“Yes, sir,” Portia said. She nodded. “We ... well, we met and she told me that what I’d done was very wrong, and that it would be in my best interest to meet with you and apologize as quickly as possible.”
I frowned. Why on earth would Harper have done something like that?
“She, well, she pretty much read me the riot act,” Portia said shyly.
“She did?” I asked dumbly.
Portia nodded. “Yes, sir,” she replied.
I stared at her. How was it possible – did I mean more to Harper than she’d let on?
Or had she done it merely to preserve her own skin, because she was so very worried about losing her own job? And her apartment?
What the hell was going on here?
“So? Mr. Ulrich?” Portia asked, leaning forward and peering curiously at me. “Can I have my job back?”
I sighed.
“Listen,” I told her. “I appreciate you coming back, I really do. And perhaps in the future, we can discuss this more seriously. Right now, though, I need to make sure that I have a top-level assistant. And I’m sorry to tell you, that you aren’t that.”
Portia’s face fell and for a second, I almost felt guilty.
“But, sir, I—”
I held a hand up to silence her.
“Listen – we’ll make a deal,” I said. “You’ll come back to your job and continue working for me ... until I find a replacement. Now, that may take weeks, and it may take months.”
Portia blinked at me.
“And while I do appreciate the fact that you came clean,” I said. “You need to learn that actions have consequences.”
Portia swallowed.
“Thank you,” she said, and I sensed that she was defeated. “Should I come in tomorrow at my usual time?”
I nodded. “I think I can manage on my own for the rest of the day,” I said. “Thank you, Portia.”
Portia left my office and I got up and closed the door, then went back to my desk. As unprofessional as I knew it was, as soon as I’d heard Harper’s name, she’d been on my mind. I wanted to call her ... ostensibly to thank her for what she’d done, but more so because I just wanted to hear her voice, to ask her how she was doing.
To ask if this meant what I thought it did.
Or at least, ask her if I could see her again.
I took a deep breath and then dialed Harper’s number. She didn’t answer on the first ring like always and I guessed that she was busy at work.
But then, she didn’t answer at all. I didn’t want to leave a voicemail – I wasn’t going to play this game with her – and I reluctantly hung up. Just as I was about to get up and stretch my legs by taking a walk around the office, my phone buzzed across my desk.
Harper.
I swiped open the call and held it to my ear.
“Hey,” I said. “I wanted to talk, I—”
I stopped talking when I heard what sounded like soft little sobs.
“Are you, are you crying?” I asked in disbelief. “What’s wrong? Portia just came to see me and told me that you met with her, and—”
“My daughter is really sick right now,” Harper said, and I heard the sound of her sniffling followed the sound of her blowing her nose.
In that moment, I felt my heart drop. There was now silence on the other end, and then suddenly I heard her curse and hang up the phone.
“Your daughter?” I asked blankly, even though I knew she was no longer on the line.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I dropped my phone into my lap and groaned as I rested my forehead on my hand, bracing my elbow against the lip of my desk. When I tried to call her back, she predictably didn’t answer.
I couldn’t believe it – but in that moment, things began to make sense. Why Harper had been so reticent to reconnect with me.
Why she’d ushered me quietly out of her apartment after sex, instead of letting me spend the night like I’d wanted to.
My stomach churned anxiously. What if it was more than a kid? What if she had a serious boyfriend, or worse, a husband?
I couldn’t get past the fact that she not only had a kid, but that she’d kept said kid a secret from me in the weeks that we’d begun to get close again.
Well, maybe a secret wasn’t fair – after all, we hadn’t done much other than fuck each other and send hot texts now and then. We hadn’t exactly had the chance to talk about our lives, save for when she’d heard me talk about growing up in Russia during the interview for HAUTESCENE.