AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Absolutely,” Conor replied. “You can either make a list of the ingredients you’ll need and I’ll buy them, or you can get it all yourself and I’ll reimburse you.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Harper rubbed her hands together gleefully. Since her arrival in Philadelphia, she’d been cooking for one in a crappy kitchenette. The idea of creating a menu and catering a party sounded like absolute bliss.
Conor continued the tour, showing them his office, guest room, home gym—which Luca spent a lot of time exploring—and formal dining room. He even showed them his bedroom, which took up at least half of the top level of his two-floor penthouse. The huge apartment was perfectly put together, decorated tastefully—though somewhat impersonally—and spotless.
Apart from the well-loved books in the living room and the tidy stacks of papers on his large desk, there was very little else that revealed any part of Conor’s personality. There were a few family photos hanging on a wall, all of them of three young boys under the age of ten. Conor said they were of him and his brothers. Harper couldn’t help but notice there were no pictures of his parents, or even recent photos.
Wrapping up the tour, Conor led them back to the kitchen, where Harper began to unpack the groceries. Both men were attentive as she divvied up the duties, explaining what they should do. She gave them assignments based on their self-professed weaknesses—Conor learning how to operate the range, Luca getting a tutorial on spices.
While Conor stood next to the cooktop, whisking the grits with stock, heavy cream, cheddar cheese, and butter, she put Luca in charge of tossing the shrimp in garlic, oregano, and Cajun seasonings. In addition to overseeing the men, Harper sauteed the andouille and vegetables, then cooked the shrimp. She had to slap Luca’s hand a few times, as he kept reaching out to steal a piece of sausage or one of the jumbo shrimp.
Once everything was prepared, they carried it to the kitchen table, and Conor poured them each a pint of a local IPA beer he had in the fridge, deciding it fit better with their meal than the wine Luca brought. Both men dug into the food like they’d never eaten before and never would again.
Harper initiated the conversation, asking each man for a rundown on the family members she was likely to meet at Sunday’s hockey party. Conor’s list was easy, consisting of the two brothers he’d mentioned many times before and their significant others.
When Luca continued rattling off a list of names—brothers, cousins, friends—she was sorry she hadn’t taken a few notes, though at least she’d met Gio and Joey through their work at the restaurant.
“Did you realize you were inviting all of Philly when you agreed to this party?” Harper asked Conor, only half kidding.
“Actually, I did. There’s no shortage of Morettis, and you should be warned, Luca’s given you a scaled-down list, only naming the people coming Sunday. I attended a party a month ago with the entire family. It was…God…a lot.” Conor feigned a shudder, prompting Luca to punch him on the shoulder playfully, something Harper noticed Luca had been doing whenever the three of them were together. It left her wondering if Conor was right about Luca being straight.
“I didn’t hear you complaining when you were shoveling that third plate of Nonna’s eggplant parmesan in your face,” he teased.
Conor tilted his head. “You counted how many plates I had?”
Luca shrugged good-naturedly, completely unaware of what his admission was doing to Conor, who looked both astonished and pleased that Luca had noticed.
She tapped Conor’s shin twice under the table. He glanced at her, shaking his head slightly.
It was nice getting to know these guys, who—while quite different—were both interesting and kind. After a lifetime spent around people who valued her only for her looks or viewed her as the competition, her list of true friends she could genuinely trust was painfully small.
“So tell us about your family, Harper,” Luca said as he rose to scoop another portion of shrimp and grits into his bowl.
“Oh, that’s simple. It’s just me and my mom,” she replied.
“No dad in the picture?” Conor took a sip of his beer.
She shook her head. “My parents divorced before I was born, and my dad moved from the East Coast to the West. I didn’t hear from him at all for the first sixteen years of my life. Then, that year, he called me out of the blue.”
“Why?” Luca asked.
Harper sighed. “I signed my first huge national campaign and my career skyrocketed.”
“Shit,” Luca growled, and it was apparent she didn’t need to spell out the rest. Dad’s interest in her was obviously tied to her bank account. Unfortunately, her younger self hadn’t figured that out as quickly as Luca had. He’d seemed so genuine when he said he wanted to make up for lost time, wanted the chance to be a father to her.
“Mom tried to warn me, but someone please introduce me to the teenage girl who listens to her mother,” she said sardonically. “He kept coming around for about a year, inviting me out for special dinners but always forgetting his wallet. Asking for a few extra dollars for this and that, always with some excuse about his credit card being stolen and a promise to pay me back. He convinced me to take him to one of my photo shoots in Italy, instead of my mother. Free trip for him, right?
“I finally figured it out when he totaled his car and came to me with a sob story about how he’d lose his job if he couldn’t buy another one right away. Mom was in control of my funds, and she put her foot down. I acted like a total asshole to her, something I still feel bad about. When I told him I couldn’t get the money for him, he lost his shit and disappeared for a couple of years. He showed back up when I was nineteen, but by then, I was wise to him. Told him to fuck off, and he did. I haven’t seen him since.”
“I’m sorry,” Conor said.
She smiled, reaching out to touch Conor’s hand. “Oh no. Don’t be. It was a hard lesson to learn, but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“Are you close to your mom?” Luca asked.
“Oh yeah. She’s one of my best friends,” Harper replied. “She traveled with me a lot when I was younger, and we both loved it. We saw the world, and those first years when my career started to take off were exciting, fun. Mom was a classically trained ballerina, and it had been her dream to dance with the New York City Ballet. She never made it. When I made it big, in some ways, it felt like both of us were achieving a dream.”
“So I guess she wasn’t happy when you decided to retire from modeling,” Conor mused.
