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“That’s exactly why. It’s all about family to me.”
“If that’s family to you, you’re ten more shades of fucked up than I even realized.”
“I have a feeling we’ll be reinventing how we define family and fucked up many times over before I leave.” My lips quirk. “Harper works for me. Remember that. You need her, you come through me.” I turn and exit the office, cutting left and down the hallway.I’ve just cut right when I end up toe to toe with Harper, who all but runs into me.
I catch her shoulders, and holy fuck, touching this woman sets me on fire, muddying the water in ways that I allowed to pull me into this hell. “Hi,” she says softly.
I narrow my eyes on her, thinking about her six years with this family, thinking about what it takes to live like one of them that long. “You wanted me here. You got me. You work for me now. You report to me now. Put together any data you think I need to see and don’t make any move related to that data, and I meananymove, without talking to me first.” I release her. “I’ll be in the conference room.” I turn away and head for the front office, but I don’t make it far.
“Eric,” she calls out, and my name on this woman’s lips easily halts my steps, but I don’t immediately face her. For a moment I’m back in that hotel room with her naked, in my arms, me buried inside her when she used my name and told me that she saw me, not the bastard. I wonder who she sees now. I wonder who she really saw then. My jaw clenches with that thought and I turn around to find her stepping in front of me, the small space of the narrow walkway shrinking and wrapping us in intimacy.
“I don’t know what I sense in you right now,” she says. “But remember this: Isaac has trashed you every day of your life you’ve been connected to this family. You think we’re different, but he sees me just like he sees you, and he is not kind to me. I deal with it. I handle it, but to you, we’re different. To him we’re alike.”
“And to you? Are we alike, Harper?”
“In some ways we are. We both got forced into this family and we both wanted it to be a real family. I, however, wasn’t smart enough to get out of here like you did when I could have, but I was smart enough to ask for your help. Because the way I see it, doing nothing wasn’t an option. If you take everything, then at least I’m finally free.” She turns and walks away and I watch her disappear into her office, the damn floral scent of her every-fucking-where, the way I want her naked in every fucking thought. Which would be fine if that nerve Isaac hit wasn’t jumping again.
I came here for her.
He knows it.
She knows it, too.
That’s only a problem if there’s something going on here, and my gut says that it’s designed to fuck me over. I don’t know why I’m atarget, but I am, and if Harper knows the truth, she’s going to tell me, even if I have to strip her naked and cuff her to my bed to get it out of her.
But I’m still not sure she does. I’m not sure that she’s not being used or even targeted herself.
A thought that I can’t quite materialize claws at my mind, the way so many do until I realize them, until I turn them into numbers that no one but me can understand. I need to be alone and think. I also need Harper naked and cuffed to the bed, but that comes later. Not much later.Tonight. It happens tonight when I decide if I trust her or I just want to fuck her.
Chapter eighteen
Eric
With a vow to have Harper naked and in my bed tonight, I turn on my heel and walk into the lobby where I stop in front of the receptionist, a pretty blonde I’d guess to be in her twenties—and knowing Isaac, his fuck buddy. That’s what he does. He surrounds himself with pretty women who place him on a throne and kneel in front of him. A thought that has me remembering Isaac’s comment inferring Harper would fuck me to get what she wants, though her fucking me for any reason suits me just fine. Now, if she fucked him, that would be another story, and a really fucking bad one I’d have a hard time believing.
The receptionist eyes the back office where I just exited and then me again, obviously trying to figure out how I got back there without her knowing. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Eric Mitchell, the other brother.”
Her eyes go wide and then as often is the case, they rake over my tats, and then sharply lift. “You’re—as in—”
“The bastard?” I ask, but I don’t have to wait for her reply. I get right to the confirmation. “Yes. I’m him and I’m a stockholder called in on behalf of Gigi to audit the operation. I’ll be working in the conference room, if I have calls or deliveries or if anyone simply wants to share operational concerns.”
The phone rings and she looks awkward, like she’s not sure if she should do her job and answer the phone. “Answer it,” I order. “I’ll wait.”
She smartly picks up the phone. “Kingston Motors, can I help you?” Her lips part as if she’s heard something shocking. “Mr. Kingston. Yes.” Her gaze darts to me as she says, “He’s standing right here. Yes. Of course.” She punches the hold button. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Conference room,” I say, heading to the left of the desk toward a set of stairs that will lead to a lower level opposite Gigi’s private domain. Gigi, who might have convinced Harper that she’s a new woman, but I know better. She has an agenda, something she’s after, something I can give her, and she’s smart enough to know I’ll find out what that is and she’s willing to take that risk.
I take my time going down the stairs, aware that my father could have called my cellphone. He called the office phone to record my reply, or allow Isaac to listen in, or both. Once I’m at the double glass doors of the lower level, I open them to enter the massive conference room, where I head to the end of the mahogany table and grab the phone, punching the line. “Father,” I say, though that word is acid on my tongue.
“I understand you’re now a stockholder.” His tone is dry, unaffected, but then he enjoys games, and while I don’t, we’re smack in the middle of one.
“I never pass on a steal of a deal. I got it cheap. Those recalls haven’t been kind to your stock or apparently your cash flow.”
“Our cash flow is just fine.”
“Considering you had to sweep Harper’s trust fund out from underneath her,” I say, “I imagine it is.”
