Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“Let me call you back, Blake,” Eric says, disconnecting and shutting his computer, his eyes doing a wicked glide up and down my body. “You look beautiful, Harper.”
“Thank you,” I say, stopping at the island across from him and it’s the wrong time. I know it’s the wrong time, but when I look into his eyes, when the warmth of his stare radiates through me, I can barely contain this explosion inside me. “Eric, I need—”
Both of our cellphones ring at the same time. Eric winks and my moment of poorly timed confession is gone. Eric declines his call. I eye my caller ID, find an unknown number, and decide I have to answer, only to have it turn out to be my union contact. “Jim,” I greet. “We’re still on for our meeting this morning, right? At the union office?”
“No meeting.”
“Why?”
“Isaac and I talked last night. We agreed on terms.”
“Just like that?”
“It’s done. No meeting.” He hangs up without another word.
I frown and slide my phone into my purse, glancing up to find Eric watching me intently. “What just happened?”
“The union meeting is cancelled. They agreed to our terms. So actually, I’m turning your question on you. What just happened?”
“Isaac deleted the union messages when I walked in the door. Now the meeting between you and the union is cancelled. Kingston’s obviously in bed with at least a portion of the union. My presence and history with the union has everyone spooked. Add to that the fact that my father just called and demanded to see me at the office right now and I’d say our plan is working. The one where we leave and you end up in my bed.”
Unless I don’t, I think. Unless he decides he doesn’t want me there, because I can’t go to New York City without telling him what I don’t want to tell him. What I have to tell him.
Chapter forty
Harper
Eric and I decide to ride to work together which is all good and fine. What is not, is his choice of car. Eric pulls us into the Kingston parking lot while driving his Jaguar rental. “I can’t believe we’re in a Jaguar,” I say. “I work for Kingston. You’re a stockholder.”
“You’re making a statement,” he says yet again, since we had this debate at my house. “The Kingstons don’t own us. They don’t own you. And that’s an important message. It’s the one that puts pressure on them. It’s the one that makes them feel relief when I convince you to leave.”
“Right,” I say. “I know you’re right.” But the idea that his father will be here today, and most certainly get all in my face over this, is not a good one. Isaac I can deal with. He’s an ass that makes you hate him. Jeff is another story. My stepfather has a way of crawling under your skin and cutting you from the inside out.
Eric parks us right up front, kills the engine, and turns me to face him. “You’ve been their ‘yes’ girl for six years.”
I scowl at him. “I’m the one who’s been pushing them about the recalls and funny money. I’m the reason you’re here.”
“But for six years, you played a role in the company, you played the good little employee. And you did it so well that no one thought twice about using your trust fund.”
“My mother allowed that,” I say. “I still can’t believe she allowed that to happen.”
“Here’s what you need to remember, sweetheart. Your father didn’t believe she’d let it happen. He believed he took care of you. Your mother has changed, she’s inside the Kingston web.”
“Yes, but—”
“I know you want to save her, but you don’t save someone by ignoring what you’re saving them from. She’s brainwashed and that means she will act to protect them and convince herself that’s in your best interest even if it’s not. She burned you. She will burn you again if you let her. Understand?”
I flash back to the night I found out she gave my stepfather my trust fund. We were at one of our mother-daughter Sunday brunches we do once a month, sipping coffee and eating waffles:
“I need to share something exciting,” my mother says, setting her coffee aside.
I sip from my cup and do the same. “Exciting is good. I’m all ears.”
“Jeff is going to invest your trust fund and he’s assured me you’ll get a twenty-percent return.”
I blanch. “What? What does that mean?”
“He says that seven million dollars shouldn’t just sit when it could be earning money for the company your father helped build and for you. I gave him the money a month ago, and he says it’s already earning you ten percent more than the way it was banked.”
“You did what?”
“This is great news, honey.”
“How did you do this? That money is in my name.”