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“Of course! We have plenty of room, and we’d be happy to help you get back on your feet,” Benedict continues, ignoring the warning look I shoot in his direction. But I can’t let this slide without voicing my concerns.
I grip his arm. “Benedict, I’d like to talk to you for a second…over there.”
Before he can say anything, I’m yanking him away from Harper toward a burnt corner of the bakery. “Have you lost your mind?” I growl. I feel as bad for her as anyone else, but not enough to invite her into my life.
“We can’t just let her go without a place to stay!” Benedict argues.
“Just because you have a crush on her doesn’t mean she can live with us!”
“Hudson would be fine with it.”
“Because he only thinks with his dick.”
Benedict lets out a breath. “I know that you don’t enjoy having strangers in your space, and under normal circumstances, I would never offer, but she’s a good girl. None of this is her fault. And everything’s been taken from her. It won’t hurt us to let her stay with us, just for a few weeks.”
I want to argue, but at the same time, I know he’s right. Besides, I’m not the type of man who tries to fight losing battles.
“Fine,” I relent, exhaling sharply. “She can stay with us, but only for a couple weeks, Benedict, and I mean that.”
“Okay, okay.”
We make our way back over to Harper. I try to mask my reluctance. “You’re welcome to stay with us, Harper.”
“Thank you so much, both of you,” she says, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. “I promise I won’t be any trouble.”
“Of course not,” Benedict replies warmly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We just want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
4
HARPER
Ilook up at the luxurious apartment complex before me, thinking this has to be some kind of dream. I swallow hard, my heart thudding as I take in the sight. The building’s sleek design and modern architecture scream wealth and sophistication—two things I’ve never been associated with.
“Get a grip, Harper,” I mumble under my breath, trying to channel some semblance of confidence. I glance down at the slip of paper clutched in my hand, double-checking the suite number before stepping inside the pristine lobby.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the front desk asks. Everything about her screamsperfect. Her dark hair is slicked back into a neat bun, not a hair out of place, and her skin is completely blemish free. Her clothes fit her like a glove. I walk over and see the name tag on her shirt readsSamantha.
Her lips purse as she sees me, and she holds back saying what I’m thinking.I don’t belong here.
“I’m just here to see a couple friends.”
“Are you?” She raises an eyebrow at me. “I’ll need to see some identification, and you’ll have to sign the visitor log.” Samantha seems like she wants to say more, although she keeps her mouth shut, judging me with her light blue eyes.
“Um…okay.” My wallet and phone are practically the only things I still have after the fire. I fish it out of my pocket before pulling out my ID and sliding it across the table. Samantha grabs it, fingers barely touching it as if she’s scared to catch some kind of disease from it. She looks at it quickly before typing a few things in her computer and giving it back.
“Alright, sign in.”
I scribble my name on the sign-in sheet before turning away from her and making my way to the elevator, hoping I won’t run into any more people like her, people who don’t like me just because my bank account isn’t full of zeros.
“Floor 15, Suite 1503,” I repeat to myself like a mantra. Riding the elevator up only adds to my anxiety. The soft jazz playing in the background does nothing to soothe my nerves. As the elevator dings and the doors slide open, I hesitantly make my way down the plush carpeted hallway.
Taking a deep breath, I raise my fist and knock softly on the door marked1503, feeling out of place among the luxury that surrounds me. When there’s no answer, I frown and check the slip of paper again to ensure I’m at the right place. A soft sigh escapes my lips as I confirm I am indeed at the correct suite number.
I raise my fist to knock louder this time, but before my knuckles can connect with the polished wood, the door swings open, startling me. There, standing in the doorway, is Hudson—his tall frame draped in a simple white t-shirt and worn jeans, an easy smile playing on his lips.
“Hey, Harper,” he greets me warmly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Long time no see.”
I bite my lip, unable to find the words to express how out of place I feel. “Um, I’m sorry,” I stammer, my eyes darting between Hudson’s face and the luxurious interior of the apartment. “I think I might be in the wrong place.”
