Page 20 of The Truth of Us

“It probably should have been,” I replied.

“And was it?”

I looked at her as the room moved around us, the music still playing quietly.

“No,” I said.

Her throat moved as she swallowed. For one second, I thought that honesty fucked this up…

Then she looked away, gathering herself. “One hour.”

My pulse kicked.

“One hour?” I repeated.

“To discuss your public image and the perceived group dynamics.”

“Of course,” I said, trying to tamp down my excitement.

Her eyes snapped back to mine. “Elliot.”

I offered her my arm. “One very professional hour.”

She hesitated for one more moment. Then she placed her hand on my arm and let me lead the way. I knew this was a terrible idea, a spectacularly terrible idea. Which probably explained why I wanted it so badly.

7

ELLIOT

The elevator ride up to my penthouse was quiet. Harper stood beside me with one hand loosely wrapped around her clutch, the cream silk of her dress catching the low light every time the elevator shifted. Her reflection stared back at us in the mirrored walls, all cool elegance and expensive restraint.

I should probably stop looking at her as if she were a problem I was trying to solve.

I didn’t.

“You’re staring again,” she said without looking at me.

Fuck…

“I’m… assessing.” I lied.

“That sounds suspiciously close to my job description.”

“But I’m much prettier doing it,” I replied with a shrug and then doubled down with a wink.

Her mouth twitched, and I had to restrain the urge to celebrate.

The elevator opened directly into the penthouse, and the city sprawled beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows in glittering gold and white. Most people reacted when they first walked in, but Harper didn’t.

She stepped inside slowly; her gaze moving over the space with observation rather than awe. Black marble. Glass. Steel. Clean lines. Expensive art, I mostly forgot existed unless someone commented on it.

“You look disappointed,” I said, loosening my bow tie.

“I’m not disappointed.” She said, but her tone suggested otherwise.

Why did that bother me so much?

“You’re not impressed either.”