Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“Do you see me complaining?”
She laughs again and rolls off of me, propping herself against the headboard again. “The message was spam which I hate almost as much as your father. Change of topic.” She glances over at me. “Do you tell people you’re a savant?”
“No. Never.”
“Does it bother you that I know?”
“No, it doesn’t. I don’t announce what I am, but I own it.”
“When was the last time you had an episode?”
I cover her hand with mine, tension sliding down my spine. “Why, Harper?”
“You don’t have to tell me. Sorry.” She tries to get off of me and I hold onto her.
“Why, Harper?” I ask again, intent on getting an answer from her.
She rotates and settles on her knees to face me. “I just—if something happened, if you had one, if being here triggers one, I want to know how to help. I should know what to do and what not to do.”
I’m aware on every level that this is information she could use to hurt me. But I can’t seem to focus on that part of the equation. No one has ever asked me what to do or not do to help me besides my mother. I sit up and slide my hand under her hair, cupping her neck. “This,” I say, dragging her mouth a breath from mine. “Kiss me. Wildly, passionate, with all you are.”
She presses her lips to mine and her cellphone starts to ring. She groans and settles her forehead to mine, her hand on my jaw. “Twenty dollars of your billion says that will be my mother.”
I’m struck by her ability to talk about my money and have it not feel like a play to get my money. That’s the thing about having money, I’ve learned. It comes with agendas, other people’s agendas.
“Talk to her,” I say, stroking her hair. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”
“Let me just make sure it’s her.” She leans to the nightstand and grabs her phone and almost falls. She yelps and I catch her, helping her settle back on the bed.
“Yep,” she says. “It’s her. I think I need that wine we didn’t finish to survive her tonight.”
“I’ll get it,” I say, standing and walking toward the door. Her phone stops ringing without her answering it.
Puzzled, I turn to find her staring at me, giving her a curious look. “What is it?”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Talk to your mom.”
“Not just about the interruption again. About how she acted earlier, Eric. You’re being really great about her and she doesn’t deserve it.”
“You already said all this.”
“I know. I just needed to say it again.”
I soften with her concern, and I wonder how anyone that thinks about everyone else the way she does, me especially, has made it this long in this family. “Talk to your mom,” I order again and head down the stairs.
Once I’m at the bottom of the stairs, I punch in a text to Adam, who I’ve had in my phonebook since a job Walker did for Bennett Enterprises a few months back: How do we look out there?
Like we’re both in Denver instead of New York City, he replies. In other words, he’s a smart ass and everything is clear. I walk into the living room, snag our wine glasses and the bottle and head back upstairs, ready to dig into the data Blake sent me before grabbing a few hours of sleep.
I re-enter the bedroom to find Harper missing and the bathroom door shut. I set our glasses on the nightstand, fill them, and then settle on the bed to wait on Harper. I key my MacBook to life and it’s just about ready for use when Harper’s phone buzzes on the bed next to me. My gaze lifts instinctively and lands on a flashing text message from Gigi that says: Do not tell him.
Chapter thirty-six
Eric
I’m standing at the bathroom door, my arm resting on the jamb when Harper opens it. “Eric,” she proclaims with a physical jolt.
“Start talking, Harper. No more fucking lies.”
“You read my text messages,” she says, and it’s not a question. She knows I did, but I go ahead and drive that point all the fucking way home.
“Damn straight I did,” I say. “You left your phone on the bed to flash right at me.”
“If I wasn’t going to tell you, do you think I’d leave my phone on the bed?” she challenges and yanks her phone from my hand and starts reading. “He has to know everything. You wanted him here. I’m telling him.” She looks at me. “Does that sound like I had something to keep from you?”
“Looks to me like you ran to the bathroom to pull yourself together.”
“I had to pee, Eric.” Her tone bristles with defensiveness. “I’m human like that. Do you want to listen to me or are you just going to attack?”