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“My friend Ramona said I’d find you here,” Harlow murmurs. Then she looks around and sees the man suckling at my waitress’s big tit. “Well, it’s certainly still the Club Z I know,” she says in a wry tone before turning to me. “Do you have somewhere we can go to talk in private?” she asks.
“Yes, of course. Come with me.” I grab my phone and jacket from the chair and gesture for Harlow to follow, my heart pounding in my chest. Holy shit, she’s here. What does this mean? Is this good or bad? Unfortunately, I have no idea.
We stride toward the elevators that lead up to the private suites and then I swipe my guest card and hold the door open for my beautiful stepdaughter. Harlow steps in and neither one of us says a word as the machine climbs up into the sky before stopping. As soon as the doors open, I once more hold my arm out to let Harlow exit first. I have no idea what I’m going to say to this woman, and I have even less of an idea of what she might have to say to me.
“I’m in this suite,” I growl while tapping the card against a door. It clicks open and Harlow follows me into a luxurious apartment complete with a kitchen, a bar, a living area, and a door leading to the master bedroom.
“Hmm, I didn’t even know you were a member of Club Z,” Harlow muses as she steps inside. “It was Ramona who told me she saw you here.”
I nod.
“When I found out where you worked, I applied for membership. We’ve just never run into one another.”
Her laughter tinkles like a small brook.
“Well, I guess that’s good because it would be pretty scandalous for a stepfather and stepdaughter to hook up, right? Even for Club Z, it’s probably pretty illicit.”
I shrug.
“No one has to know.”
Harlow goes serious then.
“But everyone will,” she says in a soft voice. “There’s no way to keep something like this hidden.”
I grimace at the subtle dig because she’s right. There’s no way to hide what we are to each other, and I jumped the gun by forcing the issue. As much as I hate to admit it, Harlow has every reason to detest me, and it would be well-deserved. With a heavy heart, I watch her walk toward the huge floor to ceiling windows that line the far wall of the living room.
“What a spectacular view,” she says lightly, commenting on the cityscape that’s coming alive. But then, the beautiful brunette turns to face me once more. “I guess I should tell you that I decided to keep the baby.”
My face must register complete shock or joy—I’m not sure which—because intense emotion flickers across Harlow’s face.
“You have?” I stutter, wanting to be certain. I try to control my reaction, but it’s no use. My heart soars as an enormous smile covers my face. Holy shit, she’s keeping the baby! My worst fear didn’t materialize, and I’m utterly grateful. Hope stirs deep in my chest, but who am I kidding? My actions have been reprehensible, and I deserve the worst.
Harlow nods slowly.
“Yes. It’s not this child’s fault how it came into the world, and I’ve always wanted kids, although I wasn’t planning on it happening like this.” She looks at her feet for a minute. “Can I sit down? The morning sickness makes me super lightheaded sometimes.”
“Of course, yes,” I stammer, immediately taking her arm to help her settle into a large chair. “Do you need some water?” I search her face intently.
“No, I’m fine,” she says in a cool voice. “Sit, please.”
I do, even while trying to calm my pulse.
She takes a deep breath.
“Sam, I love you, but I hate what you did to us.”
I stare at Harlow, my heart pounding. What does it mean to love and hate someone at the same time? I make to speak, but she cuts me off.
“I love you, and I want to be with you, but again, what you did was totally shitty, and it’s going to take a lot to work through that.”
I nod furiously.
“Yes, of course. And I apologize, Harlow. I never should have done what I did, and I can only imagine the betrayal you feel.”
I don’t exactly know what to say next, but then I summon my courage because this is a do-or-die moment.
“Harlow, I love you, too,” I say in a firm voice. “And you’ve made me the happiest man alive just now with your words. But I want to make sure you really know that you can trust me from here on out.”
Harlow shoots me a look.
“Trust isn’t something that you can re-build in a day. It takes days, months, and years, if not a lifetime.”
My heart falls but I remind myself to stay the course.
