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Chapter8
HARPER
So much for the honeymoon.
Harper sat at her grandmother’s kitchen table and stared at a box of bonbons and the latest statement from the bank.
$48,202.08
That’s what was owed on the loan.
By October fifteenth.
She counted the days on the little calendar Babs kept on the table.
Fifty-two.
She had fifty-two days to come up with almost fifty big ones.
She closed her eyes and released a pained breath.
What she wouldn’t give to go back to the carefree hours she’d spent in Las Vegas.
Scratch that.
She wanted to throttle the guy.
It had been a week since her night with Landon—a week since they’d let loose and gone wild.
And a week since she’d seen the man.
Now she understood exactly how Cinderella felt when her coach reverted to a pumpkin and her dress was reduced to rags.
The sting of reality had hit.
And she’d really screwed up this time.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, she touched her neck and toyed with the platinum circles hanging from a chain.
What had she done?
She tucked the necklace into her shirt, scowled at the balance due, then focused on the chocolate.
“All right, bonbons, we’re in a real mess. How the hell will we get ourselves out of this one?” She picked up one of the delectable treats and waited for the chocolate to answer.
It didn’t.
“You’re no help, you tasty asshole,” she grumped before popping the confection into her mouth.
The stairs creaked, and she listened as her grandmother padded down the hallway.
“Harper Barbara?” the woman called.
“Yep, I’m in the kitchen,” she grumbled. She stuffed the bank statement into her pocket, then jammed another chocolate into her mouth.
“Are you berating bonbons again?”
Crap!
