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“Ungodly early, I know. But the network is up my ass. They want to know if you’re stalling about giving them an answer about the job because of the runaway bride.”
Thewhat? How do I answer when I don’t understand the question? “I’m considering all my options. You know that. They know that.”
“And they weren’t antsy about waiting until you were snapped looking cozy with a woman who ran out on her groom less than a week ago. The fact you two are dating now—and so publicly—is sending up a red flag for them.”
The words do a drive-by in my brain but I don’t comprehend them. “What?”
“We can all understand why she would leave a boring businessman for you, but Noah… Why would you give up the opportunity to take a prime spot in the coveted A Team for the network to—”
“She ran out on some guy less than a week ago?” I hate to sound as stupid as I feel for not Googling Harlow sooner, but I don’t have my computer handy and I need to understand right now.
Where the hell is she? After the reporters splashed her image across the tabloids, did she decide to leave?
I march out of my bedroom and go in search of Harlow. As I head down the stairs, I don’t see any lights on. I’m more confused than ever.
“You didn’t know that?” Cliff asks.
“She failed to mention it.” And given her behavior, I know it was on purpose.
“How could younotknow? If she left this schmuck for you—”
“She didn’t. I only met her two days ago.”
“So it’s not serious, right?”
I hesitate. I’m not sure how to answer that but I’ve always been straight up with Cliff—speech problems aside. “I think it could be. Or I did until you called. You’re saying she broke up with her fiancé last weekend?”
“Um…yeah, buddy. In a big way.”
“What do you mean? How did you find out about this?”
“I’m going to text you a link. I hope you’re sitting down. We’ll talk again after you’ve had time to digest.”
Once Cliff hangs up, I’m torn between staring at the phone while waiting for his promised link to arrive and finding wherever the hell Harlow has gone so I can ask her a billion questions.
She was engaged less than a week ago?
Who was this guy? Why did she break it off? Suddenly, I’m less surprised that she seems allergic to relationships. What I don’t understand is why she hasn’t so much as whispered a word about this to me.
The phone buzzes in my hand, telling me I’ve got a text. But I’m still intent on finding Harlow.
Stomping my way back up the stairs, I fling open the door to the room she’d previously used as her bedroom and find her tucked under the blankets fast asleep. It’s dark. A fan circulates, keeping the room cool. She doesn’t stir at all when I walk in.
Why is she sleeping here, instead of beside me? Why did she lie down with me only to leave?
I stop and stare. I can’t look away as I wonder how and why this woman is turning my life upside down. I shouldn’t care. But I do. I shouldn’t even want to listen to her explanation. But I’m dying to hear it. I need to know if anything that’s passed between us means more to her than an orgasm. If she’s even in a place to care about me half as much as she does the sex.
My thoughts tell me more than I’d like about how invested I am in her. After a mere two days, it should be easy to write her off and walk away. But even when my head is telling me that would be smart, I won’t. She’s got a story. I’ve been wondering what’s up with her—and I’m finally finding out.
“Noah?” A familiar voice resounds from downstairs, startling me. “You up?”
I dash out of Harlow’s room and creep halfway to the first floor, peeking into the shadowy entryway. “Trace?”
“Yeah. I promised you a six a.m. workout on Saturday. Here I am.”
Shit. It’s so early, and I totally forgot. “Yeah. Give me five. I just woke up.”
“Sure. When you get downstairs, you can tell me why you’re banging a girl who ran out on her fiancé a week ago.”
