Page 40 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with the next truckload of cash that’s about to land in my bank account.I’ll have to find more charities, I guess.

As I’m thinking all this, I hear expensive athletic shoes hitting the ground behind me in a run, tapping down like a whisper onto the dusty berm of the ranch road.A lightweight step.A long-legged glide.

Harper.

I would know the sound of her stride anywhere.I wonder how many times I accompanied her on one of her ten-mile morning runs around Kent Island in the Chesapeake Bay where her family keeps a summer home.

Those memories belong to a different man.They’re from a lifetime ago.

“Kevin, wait.”

I keep walking, not changing my pace, pretending I don’t hear her.She’s breathing hard behind me, catching up.I wonder how many miles she’s clocked this morning and if she’s still training for marathons.

Not that I care.

“Look, I came here to discuss something with you, all right?Please hear me out.It’s about StellaR Tech.”

A cold chill skitters up the flesh of my arms.Those words are the last thing I ever expected to hear come out of her mouth.I don’t like hearing our business—named in honor of our mother Stella Roberts MacLaine—escape Harper’s lips.

She has no right to it.She has no right to anything connected to my family.She shouldn’t even be here.

“I’ve been active duty for a lot of years.I’m at a crossroads, I think,” she continues.

I stop and stare at her.The front of her tank top is soaked through with sweat.She leans forward and puts her hands on her knees to catch her breath, which also provides a peak down into her cleavage if I want to look.I don’t.I look away.

“I’m being vetted for a new position, but I’m thinking hard about what I see for myself next, what I really want.”

She raises her brown eyes and tries to catch my gaze, but I look down the ranch lane instead.I don’t want to engage with her.Whatever she’s got up her sleeve, it isn’t good for me or mine.

“With my experience and connections and clearances, I was thinking of resigning and moving to the private sector.I can offer a lot to…”

I make a show that I’m not listening, and I start walking again.She has to be crazy to give up her retirement package at this point.She must be expecting a huge payout from whatever private sector opportunity she envisions for herself.

But is she implying that, for some insane reason, she thinks StellaR Tech is that opportunity?I’ve never heard anything more bizarre in my life.

Harper’s got a set of cojones on her, that’s for sure.

“I was there at the task force meeting in London, Kevin,” she continues, following me.“You guys are doing spectacular stuff.Important stuff.You’re brilliant.And if I leave the Navy, it will have to be for that high level of national security work.”

Every compliment she throws my way makes me want to punch something hard.Does she think this is a fucking job interview?Does she think I would ever consent to giving her a role in my family’s business?I can’t even be in the same room with her!

I can barely handle sharing the same morning air with her.

I arrive at Cal’s.I jog up the steps to the front porch, leaving Harper down on the gravel lane.I open the front door and shut it quickly behind me, walking into Cal’s house.

“Chicken and waffles are waiting for you in the kitchen, Special K,” Victoria calls from the back deck.She’s got her feet up in a lounge chair, reading a book.“Don’t worry—I didn’t make breakfast.Emma did.”

“Roger that.Thanks.”I smile to myself.Victoria is a business genius, but a chef she is not.That’s Emma’s wheelhouse.

I hear her get up and walk behind me as I make my way into the kitchen.She hops up to take a seat on the counter while I serve myself a large helping of chicken and waffles.

“Harper’s a very impressive woman,” she says.

I need to make a break for it.I don’t want to talk to Victoria about Harper.I don’t want to talk about Harper to anyone.I don’t even want to think about her.

I pick up my plate of food and grab a mug of hot coffee.“Sorry.Gotta get to the meeting.”

I hurry down the hallway to the conference room steel door.I balance my plate on my mug while I swipe my ID through the card reader and punch in my fourteen-digit access code.As a last step, I position my eye over the retina scanner.I get buzzed in.