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Tamara’s eyebrows rise over her glasses. “We have a Harper Madden, not Richardson, working here.”
She’s gone back to her maiden name. I thought she’d want to flaunt that asshole’s name forever. “Why is HarperMaddenhere?”
Tamara rests back in the chair. “I gave her a job.”
I slam my fists on my hips. “Why did you do that?”
“Because she applied for one. Bianca wanted an assistant, so I gave Harper a temporary position.”
With all the money from her husband’s massive inheritance, why would she need a temporary job? The hairs prickle at the back of my neck. Something doesn’t feel right.
“Do my brothers know about this?”
“No. I just hired her today.”
Today.It seems a little coincidental she starts working at Alessi’s as soon as I’m back from London and not long after her husband’s death. “I don’t want her here. Fire her.”
Tamara frowns. “Why? What did she do?”
“Fire her,” I repeat without giving her a reason. I can’t tell her that having Harper so near brings up the past. A past I’ve long ago buried. A past that almost killed me. One I don’t want to revisit. Having her here will only dredge it up.
Tamara tosses the pen she’s holding on the desk. “She’s signed a contract for two months. So without a good reason, she stays.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t want her working here. That’s the reason.”
Tamara pushes herself from the chair and crosses her arms over her chest to mirror my stance. She never takes shit from anyone. Not even her bosses. “Not a good enough reason. If she’s another one of your one-night stands you’re trying to avoid, you’ll need to put the company before your ego for a moment. I can’t get any temps until late next week, and Harper is available now.”
I clench my jaw. “Harper isn’t a one-night stand.”
“Then who is she? You don’t usually fly off the handle like this.” She pushes her glasses up her nose.
“No one. Just fire her.”
Tamara’s shoulders sag on a heavy sigh. “Not happening. I need her. No one else here will put up with Bianca.”
“I can fire you both,” I say in a warning tone.
Tamara shrugs a shoulder, wearing an I-don’t-give-a-fuck expression. She knows I won’t follow through with the threat. That’s because for the past five years, she’s been a valuable member of the company. And she knows it.
Placing my palms on the desk, I lean forward. “Fine. But you better keep her the hell away from me.” Without waiting for a response, I push away from the desk and stomp from the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
There is a reason Harper took a job at Alessi Fashion the day I arrived. Before I leave for London, I’m going to figure it out.
Chapter Six
HARPER
InJuliette’soffice,mybody is shaking, black dots float in front of my eyes, and I take deep breaths to stop myself from passing out. With trembling hands, I place the bolt of material on a white marble desk before I drop it again.
Did that just happen? Did I bump into Finn? Why isn’t he in London? I mentally shake myself out of the shock. I always wondered how it would feel if I ever saw Finn again. Would I feel guilty…sad? Yes. Absolutely. What I didn’t expect was to feel like a truck had hit me. Hearing his voice, seeing his face… All the love I had to bury deep to make it through a day—the pain and loss all came flooding back. He looked at me with so much anger and loathing. What did I expect? That he’d lovingly open his arms to me?
I have to pull myself together. I can’t fall apart now. Not at work. Will I even have a job now? Probably not.
“I’m sorry again for dropping this.” I skim a hand over the silk.
“Darling, there’s no harm done. Take a seat. I’ll get you like a glass of water.” The petite designer with flaming, long, red hair is wearing an oversized pink coat with giant, yellow daisies embroidered into the fabric. Worn over skin-tight, orange pants, the outfit is bold. Not many women could pull it off. I may not have finished my fashion design course, but I loved to keep up with the fashion world online. Juliette Monet—a designer I’ve admired for years—looks amazing.
I drop into the nearest seat and take the glass of water Ms. Monet passes me. Glancing around the large room with floor-to-ceiling, arched windows, I take in the drawings and fabric samples pinned on boards on the walls. Mannequins dressed in unfinished garments stand in corners.
