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"Oh, I think you know it isn’t one for me.”
She frowns up at me. "Excuse me?"
I tilt my head at her and suck in air through my nose. "Why didn't you tell me you finished the magazine campaign without me? You made a crucial decision behind my back. We have to be able to trust each other for this to work."
Harper gawks and puts a hand to her chest. "Well, hello to you, too. Thank you for that warm welcome. How are you, Harper? Why, I'm great, Deacon, thank you for asking."
I throw my hands up in frustration, my irritation only growing stronger. I haven't been in the same room with her for five minutes and I feel like I've stepped into a sauna. "Are you going to answer me? Or are you going to continue on with this round of passive-aggressive nonsense?"
As she rises to her feet, a deliberate grace in her movements, I can feel the tension radiating off her like heat waves on a summer day. There's clearly a fire simmering beneath the surface, yet she holds it back with a practiced restraint that only adds to her allure. Clearly, she was prepared for this moment.
"Your father approved my designs, so I sent it in. Your approval wasn't needed. There's nothing more to it. I told your mother that I'd show you the ropes, and I've done that. I think it's time you move on to another department and start learning their methods. Accounting would be a good place to start."
I'm so taken aback by this change in attitude but doing my best to stay calm. What just happened? "Harper, I don't understand, everything was going so well. Why would you do something like this? You want to get rid of me that badly?"
Her shoulders slump momentarily, I've hit on something. She looks lost for a moment, but then she straightens up and starts firing again.
"This was never going to work, you and me. So better to move on now, than later."
Ok, now I am completely confused. Does she mean she and I working together or she and I together, together. Is that why she did this? Why wouldn't she just talk to me about how she felt, instead of causing another rift between us?
Yes, her passion definitely keeps things spicy but I was ok with the mild version of Harper for a few weeks maybe. We could have figured this out without the drama. But I can tell she's digging in her heels, and as much as I should walk away and cool down, she's got me riled now.
"This is Reynolds Resort, Harper, and I'm Deacon Reynolds. When the name changes to the Clark Resort, you can call the shots around here. Until then, you need to check with me before you make final decisions or changes."
I expect her to return to work and get back on the ball to fix this, but she just leans against her desk and crosses her arms defiantly. "Or what, Deacon? What are you going to do if I don't follow your rules? Are you going to fire me? Because I don't think that will fly well with your parents. They know who helped keep this place running while you were off in the city."
Anger sears through me like acid, leaving me speechless. But my eyes dart to her desk, a raw urge stirring within me to sweep everything on the floor and lift her up there and immediately put an end to this discussion. I think that's our problem, we do far too much talking.
It's taking everything within me to resist this impulse, but the gravity of the consequences makes it clear that's not the way to go. Still, the vision is hard to get out of my head. There's also the reality that her face does say 'take me in your arms right now'.
"I thought we were past this?" My own frustration is starting to boil over. "I thought that-"
"You thought that because you kissed me, I'd go all weak in the knees and have no brain of my own." She uncrosses her arms and sets her hands on her hips. "Well, think again, pal. I was raised to respect myself more than that."
I feel like I've just been slugged. How can she actually think that about me?
"What does kissing have to do with any of this? Are you serious?"
She rounds the table, getting so close that I can feel the heat from her body. Harper is red in the face, and her eyes are still blazing. "You think that a little peck and some smooth talking will butter me up and I'll go skipping off, and forget I have a mind of my own?"
My lips part in shock, I would never think that. For a moment tears look to be brewing in her eyes. But then they're suddenly gone as she straightens up again. She barely comes up to my chin when she's standing this close to me, but man, does this little lady pack a punch. I'm seething, yet simultaneously more drawn to her than ever. Deep breaths.
"Harper," I make my voice as soft as I can and reach out for her hand. "Enough, please."
"No!" Her voice is thick with emotions she seems to be struggling to wrangle in. She's losing her resolve to be so tough, I can see it in her eyes. They no longer meet mine. This is a show, all of it. I know her better than this.
Her voice is wavering now, her body language no longer confident. I'm close to just wrapping her in my arms to let her know it's ok. I don't need to win anymore, she doesn't have to keep fighting.
A single tear spills down her cheeks. "You don't get to decide when I'm done, Deacon Reynolds. We're not playing by your rules anymore. In fact, why don't you-"
The door creaks open, causing both of us to spin and face the interruption. Sasha shuffles into the room in her pink dress, toting her stuffed elephant. She stares up at the two of us with the wide eyes of a doe caught in oncoming headlights, and then backs up a step.
"Sasha?" Harper quickly switches her attention to my daughter, wiping the tear off her cheek. She sees the alarmed look on her face and offers up a sweet smile. "Hey, honey. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at school?"
Sasha's little chest heaves and I stare down at her, concerned.
"Sweetheart, it's okay. Harper and I were just... we..." I can't seem to think of a good excuse or explanation, so my voice trails off into silence. Sasha is more important than our discussion, so I turn to Harper and explain, "Sasha is sick today, so I brought her in with me so I could keep an eye on her."
