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“We’ll sort this out. But I need to call Wade.” He must be going out of his mind.

“What you need to do is lose this player’s number. End it. Now.”

I didn’t hear him right. I couldn’t have. “Excuse me?”

“I won’t be embarrassed by you any more than I already have.”

“Dad—”

“Harlow. Remember where you are.”

I look around, and it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time.

“I know exactly where I am. I’m in my father’s office. Having a disagreement about the man I love.”

His laugh is like a slap in the face. “This isn’t about love. It’s not even about whether there’s some explanation, as you say. It’s about perception. It’s about showing you’re capable of putting this bank, this family, first. We don’t need this kind of association tainting our image.” He meets me with his level stare. “You’ve been desperate for my attention your whole life. Congratulations. You’ve got it. Think twice before you throw it away for somejock.”

* * *

Wade

Motherfucker!

I can’t reach her. I’ve called her phone a hundred times. Got in a cab and started heading to her office. Called the bank, lost my fucking mind getting passed from department to department, put on hold so long that I was actually in the lower atrium of PHR headquarters when I finally got Nettie on the line. But she didn’t know much more than I did. Harlow was apparently gone for the day and she wasn’t answering her phone.

This is bad.

Her name was listed with mine in the picture from the wedding. Her father’s and the bank too. This is everything she didn’t want, everything she was afraid of.

No.

This is one hundred times worse.

I should have told her about the arrest. When she asked about Collin, I should have explained in detail, right fucking then.

But hell, there was just so much going on.

I wasn’t hiding it. I figured I’d tell her someday, but it never even occurred to me that she’d find out about it like this. The charges had been dismissed. The records sealed. Hell, I’d actually thought the courthouse had them incinerated at some point.

So I didn’t tell her that at fifteen, he’d hidden drugs in my truck without me knowing it, then let me getarrestedbefore coming clean. That he’d been the close call that could have cost me my career before I even had it. And now that close call has the potential to cost me Harlow.

Now I’m pacing in front of her apartment—Pete bellowing in my ear—praying she’ll come home, and when she does, she’ll give me the chance to explain.

“This is your career, Grady! Get your ass down here now.”

I shove a hand through my hair. He doesn’t get it.This is my life.

And then I see her coming around the corner and my heart stops. “I’ll call you back.”

I run down the block, my gut in knots.

Jesus, the hair that had been pinned into a perfect twist when I kissed her goodbye this morning hangs around her shoulders. Her eyes are red… and she’s fighting to get what looks like a phone out of some plastic clamshell.

“Harlow,” I pant, stopping in front of her. Ready to drop to my knees and beg her to believe that what’s been circulating isn’t the truth. To give me the chance to explain.

Her eyes meet mine and she drops everything and throws her arms around me. “Are you okay?” she gasps, clinging to me. “They took my phone and I—I didn’t remember your number to call.”

I pull her back, a new panic surging through me. “Who took your phone?”

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