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“Yes, yes to all of it.” I’ll basically agree to anything she can give me, at this point.
She laughs at my excitement. “Why do I have a feeling you’d have said yes to anything I suggested?” she asks, and I watch as she pours the batter into muffin tins.
“What are you making?” I ask, wishing I were there next to her, sneaking licks of the spoon between stolen kisses.
“Some vanilla bean cupcakes. I felt like celebrating, and baking is how I do that.”
“I wish I were there to celebrate with you. Send me a list of everything you want or need in order to bake or cook while you’re here, and I’ll make sure to have it stocked and ready.”
“Excuse me, mister. Do you expect me to come and slave away feeding you while I’m on vacation? Aren’t you the one supposed to be spoiling me?”
“If spoiling is what you want, then spoiling is what you’ll get.” I smirk at her. “What does that consist of? Never leaving my bed, more orgasms that you can count? Champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, a shopping spree? Maybe a day at the spa? You name it and I’ll make it happen.”
“I’ll let you know. Some of that sounds very tempting, but mostly I just want to spend time with you. See you in your natural element. Maybe spy on you while you’re working, just to see how sexy you look in the boardroom.”
“Don’t go giving me any ideas, now. I could easily kick everyone out of the boardroom and lay you down on the table and feast away.”
“I’m not sure your employees would appreciate knowing that you’ve had sex in the office. Wait, you haven’t had sex in your office before, have you?” she asks.
I blow out a breath because I don’t want to lie to her. “I’m not proud of it, but yes, I have had sex in my office before. It was a long time ago. A date showed up before we had to go to a charity event, and well, one thing led to another and we had sex. It wasn’t with an employee and it only ever happened the one time,” I tell her honestly.
“Thank you for being honest with me,” she says, but I can see she’s lost a little bit of the sparkle in her eyes.
“I’ll always be honest with you, Harper. That’s what will make this work. We have to be open and honest about everything. Just like you had to be honest with me about your reasonings behind wanting to wait for any investments in your business from me. I’ll be honest with you about anything in my life. I won’t let a lie tear us apart.”
“Thank you,” she says, blowing out a big breath. “It isn’t my story to tell, but Lacey went through a nasty divorce. Her ex was a master at manipulation and lying to her about almost everything. When she caught him and unraveled everything he’d lied about, it was overwhelming, even for me, and it wasn’t my life. I realized then just how much someone else’s lies can affect those around them, and make them guilty by association, according to others.”
“That really sucks, did she get everything settled, then?” he asks.
“Yes, he’s in jail and was stripped of all parental rights. It wasn’t a pretty few years, but she’s a strong woman. With lots of support from family, she pulled through and is standing on her own, now. I’m so proud of her and all that she’s overcome. I just hope that she can one day meet a man who can show her that not all men are bad, not all are narcissistic liars.”
“Sounds like she should be proud of herself. I can’t imagine having to overcome all of that.”
“Yeah, it was a tough few years, but enough about that.”
“I’ll file flight plans tomorrow and arrange for the jet to pick you up. What time were you wanting to leave?” I ask.
“I was thinking any time after four. That gives me a chance to run home and take a shower before needing to be at the airport. I can have my bags packed the night before, so all I have to do is toss in the last-minute items and head out the door.”
“Don’t forget, with the private jet, you don’t have to be there two hours beforehand. I’ll send the pilot an email now with your requested times and see what they can get scheduled with the airports.”
“Sounds good! Now, to count down the days until I get to see you again!” she squeals, that sparkle back from earlier.
We fall into what has become our normal nightly conversation. I tell her about my day, and she tells me about hers. Usually filling me in on the town gossip, especially if my grandmother is involved in it.
I pull out one of the meals that Shelly left for me this week, heating it up according to the note on top. “What are you having tonight?” Harper asks.
“The note says a spicy beef enchilada with Spanish rice. I also have some queso and chips to go with it.”
“Sounds yummy. You’ll have to let her know that I’ll feed you while I’m in town, so no need to leave you meals.”
“Wait just a minute. You got all mad when I asked if you’d be cooking for me, earlier.”
“I was just giving you a hard time, of course I’ll cook for you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I won’t complain if we go out to eat or order in sometimes, but doing that for over a week will get old.”
“I get it, I’m just giving you a hard time back. We can just go with the flow. There is a store just a few blocks away, or we can always order groceries for delivery,” I tell her.
I finish up my dinner, taking the call into the living room, and get comfortable on the couch. She’s long-since finished baking her cupcakes and has settled in for the night, as well.
