Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“What is it?” She asked. “Are you okay?”
I sighed. “I’m fine,” I told her curtly. “Please see that I won’t be disturbed for the next hour or so.”
Portia nodded. “Can I bring you anything? Coffee? Water?”
I shook my head. “No,” I told her. “That’ll be all.”
Portia nodded again, then left my office and closed the door in her wake.
I stared at my phone for a long time before picking it up. I shouldn’t have been stressing over what to say to Harper, but I was. I wanted her to know how much she had been on my mind over the last four years.
How much she was on my mind every single fucking day.
Finally, I took a deep breath and dialed the number on the bottom of the page.
“Harper Willow speaking,” Harper said. Her voice sounded honeyed and husky at once, and hearing her speak sent a warm tingle through my body. My cock, which hadn’t been flaccid since seeing Harper’s name, came to life and began to throb.
“It’s Nico Ulrich,” I told her. “I just received the news about HAUTESCENE wanting to profile me.”
“Oh,” Harper said. She sounded flustered, unprofessional, like I’d managed to catch her off-guard.
Good, I thought. This gives me the upper hand.
To my surprise, Harper recovered quickly. “Thank you for calling me so promptly,” she said, speaking every word clearly, like she was reading them off a cue card.
“Of course,” I said. “My assistant just told me.”
“Did she show you the email?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I’ve decided to accept the offer.”
“We’ll be doing a short phone interview – we’re going to tease the story in a mini-edition,” Harper said, all crisp and businesslike. “And then we’ll do a photo shoot – ideally, you at home, in different clothing that suits your profession and lifestyle. Then, we want to do a sit-down interview, which will be photographed and some of those photos will go in the main issue.”
“Harper,” I said. “I’d love to speak to you, in private.”
Harper was silent for a moment. “As I was saying,” she continued. “We’ll start with the phone interview now, which shouldn’t take any longer than twenty-five minutes. I’d love to schedule the photo shoot for some time next week, and—”
“Are you going to the party at Rhouge?” I asked. This was all wrong – it wasn’t going the way I’d wanted it to go, not at all.
Harper cleared her throat. “It’s less of a party and more of a HAUTESCENE event,” she replied. “And I’m not sure. My boss hasn’t yet told me whether or not she wants me there. I might have a prior commitment.”
Does she have a date? My mind jumped there immediately, even though I knew that rationally, Harper could have meant anything. Back when she worked for me, I had her in the office late at night most of the time.
She’d never had commitments back then.
I swallowed hard. Jealousy was growing inside of me, an ugly beast rearing its head, and I tried to breathe through it but it got stronger by the second.
“So, Mr. Ulrich, how would you describe your fashion sense?”
“Please, Harper, it’s Nico,” I said.
Harper was silent for a moment. “This call is in a professional capacity,” she said, and her little voice was almost cold. “You understand, yes?”
“I need to see you,” I said. This was wrong – what the fuck was I doing, almost begging her like this?
“Nico,” Harper said, and her tone was much softer. “You realize I’m trying to do my job, right? I just started at this company ... I need to do well here.”
There was something in her voice that was almost desperate, almost sad, and I wondered what I’d done to make her hate me so much. Had I really been that awful?
More importantly, was she ever going to give me a chance to explain myself and apologize? Wasn’t there anything I could do to make it right?
“So,” Harper said. “Your fashion sense – you realize you’re known for that, yes?”
“I suppose,” I said slowly. The last thing I wanted to talk about was fucking clothes, but Harper wasn’t even giving me an inch to work with. She had clearly gotten even more stubborn over the last four years, and my heart sank as she proceeded with meaningless question after meaningless question.
After about twenty minutes, Harper cleared her throat.
“This should be enough material for the teaser issue,” she said. “Thank you for your time. I think Nell’s really going to be pleased.”
I knew that this was my last chance – if I didn’t try to get her now, it might be too late. I didn’t even know for sure that she’d be at the Rhouge party.
I had to try.
“Harper,” I said finally. “I really, really need to speak to you. Would you at least have lunch with me?”