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“What? No, I’m not.” His eyes widened in concern and he leaned closer to speak in a softer voice. “Someone is blackmailing you?”
The concern in his voice might as well have been a punch to the gut. Harper didn’t know what to say or do, but the truth was plain as day when she looked into his clueless face: Quentin was not her blackmailer.
So who the hell was?
“You know what? Just forget I said anything,” Harper said. “Go back inside before Josie gets upset.”
Quentin hesitated for a moment and then nodded, silently returning to the reception hall.
Harper was relieved to see him go without a fight, but the relief was short-lived.
From the very first blackmail message, she’d been fairly certain that Quentin had been behind it. He was the only one with the slightest inkling of her financial difficulties. When they’d dated and she’d finally opened up about her problems, he’d actually coached her on some financial planning. They’d even used the same financial advisor. But no one else, until she’d told Sebastian, had known.
Maybe she was fooling herself. Maybe everyone saw through her ruse and was too kind to say anything. They just let her carry on as though no one was the wiser. If that was the case, then anyone could be the blackmailer.
Harper stood at the entrance to the reception hall and watched everyone enjoying themselves inside. Violet and Aidan were cutting the cake while a crowd gathered around them. Flashes from cameras and the awws of bystanders drew everyone to the corner where the towering confection was on display. A few people were sitting at their tables, chatting and sipping their flutes of champagne.
Some people she knew better than others, but who was capable of blackmailing her? Of ransacking her room and stealing both her and Sebastian’s things? She didn’t even know where to begin looking for a new suspect.
“Miss Drake?”
Harper turned her attention to the waiter who had come up beside her. He had previously been carrying a silver tray of champagne flutes, but now his tray held nothing but the miserably familiar white envelope.
“I have a message for you,” he said. “It was left at the front desk.”
Of course it was. “Thank you,” she said with a sigh and accepted the letter. She supposed she should open it and see what the latest threat entailed. The money was due by the end of the reception. There was only an hour or so left in that and she was pretty sure that both of them knew she wasn’t paying it. So what was the point?
She slipped the envelope into the front of her bra to read later. Maybe. What did it matter in the end? She wouldn’t have the money. Unless the blackmailer was bluffing the whole time, her news was going to come out sooner or later.
When she’d first told Sebastian about the note she’d received on the plane, he’d told her that one of her courses of action would be to expose the truth before anyone else could. To take the power back from the blackmailer. At the time, the idea had been out of the question. She would be throwing everything out the window if she did that. Now she wondered if that hadn’t been the best policy all along. Perhaps if she spoke to her grandfather and explained her situation, he would understand. Or not. Perhaps he would cut her off and that twenty-eight million would vanish into thin air.
So what?
It seemed like a ridiculous thought to have. It was a life-changing amount of money. She’d been scraping by for years waiting for the day that money would arrive. But now that she stood there, she realized that things hadn’t been so terrible. She had managed just fine. She had a good job at FlynnSoft that paid well and offered amazing benefits like a gym, a no-cost cafeteria and coffee shop, and insurance for minimum premiums and co-pays. Her beautiful, large apartment was paid for. The fees and insurance were high, but she paid them every year without fail.
No, she didn’t have all the latest fashions. Her high-end pieces were either relics from her previous spending days or lucky thrift store finds. She had learned over the years how to get by without keeping up with the Joneses. If she told the truth about her situation to her friends and family, the pressure to shop and spend money with them would likely go away. No one had ever treated Lucy any differently when she’d been the poor one in the group. After she’d inherited half a billion dollars and married Harper’s rich brother, she was still the same old Lucy.
Per
haps she could be the same old Harper. Just a little less flashy. She’d spent the last eight years just trying to get to her thirtieth birthday when perhaps she needed to be happy that she had made it all this time on her own. If she wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t, she could make changes to make her life easier. Maybe she could sell her flashy apartment for something more reasonable, then pocket the profit into savings. She could sell some of her designer clothes that she never wore anymore.
The realization that she didn’t need her grandfather’s money was a profound one for her. Suddenly it was as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t know who her blackmailer was, but she was about to stick it to them. The one thing they couldn’t have counted on was the spoiled heiress Harper Drake having the nerve to go it on her own.
Straightening her spine, Harper marched into the reception hall with a feeling of purpose. Cake was being distributed and the happy couple was sharing a piece at their table near the front. The band was playing a soft instrumental piece and the dance floor was empty for the moment. This was her chance.
She snatched a flute of champagne from a passing server and climbed the steps of the stage. Several people had made toasts to the couple from this perch earlier. Violet had only had bridesmaids since she said she couldn’t choose a maid of honor from her three best friends. Harper could easily be the next one from the wedding party to make a toast to the happy couple.
The stage band saw her approach and eased out of the song they were playing so she could offer her good wishes to the bride and groom. She nodded and waved to them, taking the microphone from the stand and walking to the edge of the platform.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Harper Drake and I’ve known Violet for many years. Our families knew each other growing up, but we really got close when Violet and I went to Yale together and joined the same sorority. Pi Beta Phi sisters forever!”
The crowd laughed and applauded. “It’s true. There, I made best friends for life. Not just Violet, but also Emma and Lucy, who is now my sister-in-law. Over the last few years, I’ve seen each of these beautiful, smart, wonderful women find love and happiness. I could not be happier for all of you. And tonight, I want to raise a toast to Violet and Aidan. May your lives together always be as magical as the fairy-tale wedding where it started.”
She raised her glass and the room applauded and joined her in the toast. Harper didn’t leave the stage, however. She waited for the applause to die down and continued. “Tonight, in this room, are some of the most important people in my life. So I wanted you all to hear the brief announcement that I’d like to make. No—I’m not engaged or pregnant, so let’s just get that out of the way,” she said with a smile. “I actually want you all to know that I’ve been lying to you.
“Every day for the last eight years or so, I have gotten out of bed and lived a lie. I have carried on with my life as though nothing has ever changed, but the truth is that I am broke. Flat broke. It seems silly in retrospect to lie about something like that, but my pride got in the way. No accountant wants to be seen as a poor money manager and that’s what I was. I was spoiled rotten and when the well ran dry, I didn’t know what to do.”
Harper sipped her champagne and took a moment. Her eyes stayed focused on the tapestry on the back wall. She feared that making eye contact with someone might make her start to cry and she didn’t want to do that right now.
