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***
I have never been shopping for home furnishings. The houses and apartments I have lived in all my life were furnished by a decorator before I moved in.
I would have never thought it would be fun either, but walking from section to section with Harper, hearing her gush over whimsical curtains, funny wall clocks, vanity mirrors, and wallpaper beats spending the day at home or the office.
“That reminds me,” I quip as we stand before the shelves of fairy lights, “I have never been inside your apartment. The previous occupant let me in a few times, but I bet you’ve done wonders with the place.”
“Yeah,” she casts a glance my way, “I had to get rid of almost everything, but you are not entering my apartment. Not now or ever.”
“Why?”
She twists her lips to the corner. “You know why. I also don’t let strangers in.”
Ouch. “Is it me, or have we gone from friends to strangers in less than a day?”
Harper makes her selection and tosses it into a cart. “We were never friends.”
I add another box of lights. She puts it back. I grab the box off the shelf again, she glares at me, and I promptly return it. “You don’t ask a stranger to watch your dog for a week, do you? You don’t give them the passcode to your apartment either.”
“I changed it as soon as I returned.”
“That’s mean,” I protest.
“It’s practical,” she argues. “I’m done here. Let’s go.”
***
“If you are not going to give me a tour of your apartment, why don’t you come up to mine?” I ask as we get on the elevator. “It’s because I need your help,” I add when she looks at me suspiciously. “I think I need your expertise in decorating.”
That excuse just popped into my head, but I am glad it did.
“How much are you going to pay me?” Harper demands, and I laugh.
“Whatever you want.”
She grins, and it makes my heart flip. “Okay. You have a deal.”
We say nothing more to each other until I input the code to my door, and we walk in.
“You want the tour now, or would you like something to eat?” I inquire, walking away. It takes a minute for me to notice that Harper isn’t following me, and when I turn around, she has the strangest look on her face.
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, knowing what she’s speaking of but needing to hear the words.
She says nothing, crossing the space between us to stand before me. “It wasn’t a mistake—having sex with you. I have been lying because…well,” she shrugs and looks away momentarily, “I don’t want you to think of me that way.”
“You thought I’d gloat about it, didn’t you?”
Harper gives me a sideways smile. “I guess? You kept teasing me.”
“Only because I wanted you to be comfortable with what happened,” I explain. “The night we were together, I could tell you were holding back, and it bothered me. If I didn’t go about it the right way, I apologize.”
She shakes her head and waves her hand. “It’s all right.”
I have one more confession. “I liked it,” I tell her. “Teasing you, I mean. So, it was also selfish. And for that, I’m sorry.”
Her eyes narrow, but there is no steam or heat in them. Her shoulders lift in nonchalance. “I’ll get you back for it. When you least expect it.”
