AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Harper would understand, and perhaps watching him jump through the hoops of promoting a new album would give her more confidence in knowing what to expect.
It made perfect sense. He was being pragmatic, but it didn’t loosen the knot in his belly.
“Let’s put Harper’s prospects on hold for the time being and focus on the new music—my new music. That would be the best choice for my family at this time.” He sat stock-still, waiting for the attorney to speak. “Mr. Cleary?” he said, half praying the line had disconnected and his words had gone no farther than this room.
“I’m here, Mr. Paige. I was jotting down a note. I appreciate you taking my call and sharing your insight. The courier should arrive within the hour—possibly sooner—to pick up the paperwork. Please remember to initial at the first red arrow, then sign the last page if you haven’t already, and we’ll proceed accordingly. Mr. and Mrs. Luxe look forward to working with you and, perhaps someday, your wife. There’s a business card in the folder. It’s got Mr. and Mrs. Luxe’s private cell number. They asked if you’d pass it along to your wife so she can contact them when she’s ready.”
He flipped a few pages, and a glossy black card slipped from between the sheets. “I see it,” he answered, then flicked his gaze to the red arrow.
Everything he’d ever wanted hinged on signing on a dotted line.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Paige, and I apologize for contacting you during your vacation. I’ll be in contact with you and your manager soon.”
The line went dead. He removed his hand from his pocket and drummed his fingers on the desk. The glint from his wedding band caught his eye, and his gaze ping-ponged between the platinum ring and the red arrow.
Had he done the right thing?
He exhaled a pained breath, when the door to his study slammed, and an icy chill spider-crawled down his spine. He didn’t have to look up to know that a pair of chameleon eyes were sizing him up.
His stomach dropped.
How much of the conversation had Harper heard?
And if he was asking himself that question, what did it say about him?
Roiling shame scorched his veins, and his skin prickled as if it were repulsed to be attached to him.
Dammit.
He’d professed his love. He’d pulled out all the stops to show her he was the man for her. He could only pray she’d hear him out. He studied her muted expression. She’d changed out of her dress and stood before him in gray yoga pants and a hoodie with his black T-shirt underneath. The sight of his wife wearing his shirt was nearly enough to ease his conflicted mind ,until he caught sight of a crumpled cardboard box and a cell phone in her hands—his phone.
“Where have you been?” He kept his tone neutral.
She sauntered into the room. “I checked on Aria. She’s sleeping like an angel with her piano eraser clutched in her hand.” She glanced away, and the ghost of a sad grin pulled at the corner of her mouth. But by the time she met his gaze, the warmth in her expression had faded. “Then I threw on dry clothes,” she continued. “Do you recognize this shirt?”
“It’s my shirt. The shirt you wore…”
“For our wedding,” she supplied, but there was nothing coy or flirty in her tone. The stern set of her jaw made sure of that. “After I made sure Aria was okay, I decided to look for your phone—you know, to be considerate. And when I went to leave through the kitchen, one of the staff came in from the rain and handed these to me. It’s awfully nice how people like to do things for you because you’re a big, famous heartthrob.”
He was screwed.
“As you can see, the nice man retrieved the bonbons as well,” she added with a saccharine smile, holding up the darkened pastry box.
He nodded. Maybe she wasn’t that upset.
“Would you like your phone? I’m not sure if it’s salvageable. It’s pretty water-logged.”
Was that a trick question? “Sure,” he answered carefully.
Her syrupy smile dissolved into a scowl as she reared back and chucked the device at him.
“Jesus Christ, Harper!” he cried and snapped his cell out of the air before it whacked him in the forehead.
It was safe to say his wife looked ready to tear him limb from limb.
She made a beeline for his desk, slammed the pastry box onto the surface, then popped the top and peered inside. The rain had soaked the cardboard, and the once sturdy container had caved in on itself.
“What luck! They’re still dry.” She plucked a bonbon from the box and slipped it into her mouth. She chewed slowly, watching him with her hazel eyes like she was deciding upon the best form of torture.
