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Caleb has a huge smile on his face. "I don't know what to say."
"I never asked you to say anything," I remind him. "You were the one with the outrageous conclusion. Harper Quinn is not my type, and this is a business arrangement—two major reasons why it is impossible for me to feel anything for her."
My best friend gives me the side eye.
"Never say never, my friend. There is a thin line between love and hate. You don't know it because your mind tells you what you can see on the surface, but your heart might have fallen already."
If looks could kill, he would be dead on the floor of my office.
He shoots up his hands in surrender.
"Okay. All right. I'll stop with the assumptions. You need to find a way to behave. She's the best in her field, and we can't bring someone else in on this project, now."
"Why do I have to be the one to behave? Why don't you tell her to behave?"
Caleb shrugs. "Maybe I will."
I'm taken aback by how easily he accepts it. "You're going to speak to her?"
"Didn’t you just ask me too,” he points out.
"You said it like you two have become buddies or something," I explain.
Caleb's silence tells me everything I need to know—his deception and betrayal. I point to the door.
"You still know your way out, don't you?"
"You want me to leave because we are acquaintances?"
"Did I stutter?" I say. "My own best friend chooses to side with the…the…"
I cannot quite call her the enemy, or I wouldn't have agreed to work with her. Blowing out steam and running my fingers through my hair, I stand up. Caleb does the same.
"You can stay," I say. "I’m leaving."
"Where are you going?"
"I'll be back," I say before leaving the office.
I need some air to clear my thoughts of Harper Quinn. Caleb might have been far off when he said I had feelings for her, but he's not wrong about one thing—in all the years, nobody has gotten under my skin so much that it left me disoriented.
There's something about her I just can't put her finger on.
Chapter 5
Harper
"I'm going to lose it," I mutter as I drag my sofa, trying to reposition the furniture in the living room to make it work.
I've already dealt with the kitchen, fixing the wallpaper I purchased a while ago, but I had no time to set it up. I fixed the bookshelf in the spare room and did a few things in the bathroom.
Not because I'm the twenty-something-year-old woman who arranges her apartment at night.
No.
The reason why, at midnight, I am putting my back to work instead of sleeping or relaxing in bed is because of the noise coming from the floor above mine. The sound of music and people competing to see who can talk the loudest kept me from sleeping.
"I'm going to lose it, and I'm going to take someone with me," I mutter, abandoning the sofa when my strength fails and plopping it down. "And I know who I'm taking down."
