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“I have three minutes to spare,” I inform him.
His recorder goes on, and the small mic comes close to my face.
“Building a sophisticated piece of tech like the GloChange without word of it getting out must have taken a lot of effort. Can you tell us how you did that?”
By faking an engagement with a contracted consultant and falling in love with her in the process, then finding out that I was the only one in love when I thought I clearly saw the signs.
When she told me that she felt the same way just last night.
“You know I never reveal my secrets,” I fake a smile, inject some light teasing into my tone, and act like all is right with the world while my heart is breaking, bit by bit and piece by piece.
I want to go out there and confront Harper, but…I’m scared. For the first time in a long time, I’ve let someone come so close that I’m frightened of what will happen if she doesn’t choose me.
What is there to confirm, though?
Even if it’s a ruse, why go to such lengths to deceive her mom?
There must be some truth, and that hurts enough, I conclude as my lips rearrange into a grim line. I see the expression change on the reporter’s face as he moves in, trying to uncover the reason for my sudden mood switch.
I pat him on the shoulder. “I’m not the only one who made this happen, you know. You should stay and interview the rest of the team as well.”
He taps the air. “Yeah! Harper Quinn, your fiancée. I was getting to that. Uhm, any news about a possible wedding date? Everyone is dying to know.”
Again, I have to force another smile on my face.
“It might be a secret wedding,” I lean in, dropping my voice. “You know how I like to keep the best things private. But don’t worry,” I move back, “you’ll get an invite when the time comes.”
He looks pleased with himself, and I briefly imagine what the headlines of some articles and newspapers will be tomorrow.
Former Playboy and Tech Billionaire Confirms That He’s Ready to Tie the Knot.
If only that were true.
Unable to take another second talking about the project, wedding, and Harper, I walk away, striding past the people mingling, drinking, and laughing, through the exit and to the parking lot.
Thank goodness we took different cars when we were coming—because Harper had some last-minute checks to do and I had to do my host duties, she forced me to leave her behind.
“I’ll see you there, won’t I? And I’ll see you after.”
Just hours ago, I thought my life would change forever in a good way. I was so happy.
I peel out of the parking lot, narrowly avoiding a car driving in and swerving past another that is trying to park beside the building.
I’m threading the speed limit by the time I get on the highway, and my mind is reeling the entire time, unable to think straight.
I don’t know how I get home, but I do, and I get out of the car, slamming the door hard, and I hear something ping. Storming into the house, I throw my bag on the floor and head to the mini bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey.
“Shit,” I mutter when it almost slips from my hand as I reach for a glass, but I manage to steady both bottle and glass, heading back to the living room.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I’m—
I don’t know. I just want to forget that today ever happened. I want to close my eyes and go back a month or two before all of this.
I stare at the bottle in my hand and the glass, then drop them gently on the carpet. If I drink, it’ll be till I pass out.
