by Susan Meier
Obviously surprised, Jake peered at him. “You did?”
He batted a hand. “It’s nothing. But she could be here looking for me. Better go on without me.”
Jake left. Seth caught up to Harper, who was standing in front of the directory. “Harper?”
She turned to him with tears in her eyes. “I didn’t get it.”
His heart sank, but he said, “It’s your first interview. It’s fine.”
A tear rolled onto her cheek. “No. It’s not fine. I need a job. I have a baby to support.”
Her crying went through him like hot ice. He led her to the door and out onto the sidewalk, so she wouldn’t stand in one place long enough for anyone to really see or hear her. Her words would blend into the noise of the city around them.
As they started up the street, she said, “Seth, it was like a whole different world. I was even dressed wrong.”
She spoke stronger now. Her tears had scared him, but the fact that she gathered herself together humbled him. He thought he was helping her, but this was really her battle. She was a good woman, a good person, in a bad situation. And she was right. In her purple skirt and simple white blouse, she wasn’t dressed to impress. It was like she was hiding her light under a basket.
He glanced around and saw a small boutique up ahead. He’d frequented the store to get gifts for his mom, his sister and girlfriends. The clerks were quiet, discrete. If he took Harper inside and told the saleswomen they needed to look around, they would smile and give them some space. And he could give her some pointers on dressing for an office. Somehow in those years of being self-employed, she’d gotten the idea that office workers needed to be dowdy.
He took her arm and led her into the store.
“What are we doing?”
“You said you felt you were dressed wrong.”
She looked down at her white blouse and eggplant-colored skirt. “I was dressed wrong. I haven’t bought clothes in two years, unless you count maternity jeans.”
He pointed to the left at a long rack of tops beside a rack of skirts and trousers beside a rack of sweaters beside three rows of dresses.
“See the colors?”
“Pretty.” Her head tilted. “And not a dark purple skirt or blouse among them.”
“Go look.”
She faced him. “I can’t afford to spend a bunch of cash on clothes when I’m not sure if I’ll need the money for a down payment on a house.”
“Maybe. But because you’ve never worked in an office, I think you got the wrong idea about what to wear. Just look around.”
She frowned, glanced back at the racks. He could see from the way her eyes shifted that she didn’t just want to fit in. She almost seemed to long to run her fingers along the fabrics, try things on, get some clothes that would ease her into her next life phase.
“I can get you an account here.”
She bit her lower lip. “If I have to use my profit from selling my condo as a down payment for another condo, God knows when I’ll be able to pay it off.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that?”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t do that.”
His heart melted. He could afford to buy the whole damn store and she wouldn’t let him buy her a few dresses.
“What if we get the account, but you make the payments. Probably won’t be too much if you spread it out over a few months. And new clothes will give you the confidence you need on your next interview.”
She licked her lips. His libido sent blood straight to the wrong part of him, as his emotions zigzagged in four different directions. He’d always had a thing for Harper. But he’d also known her as his best friend’s wife. He wanted to help her. Almost needed to help her. But he loved her strength, her pride, her longing to make her own way and be herself.
Hell, hadn’t he fought to be allowed to be himself?
“Please.”
She glanced at him. “I know you’re doing all this to pay back a debt to Clark. But he never felt you owed him.”
“I owe him everything I am today. Which is why I understand why you don’t want to take the help.”
She chuckled, then shook her head as if amazed by him. “You will let me pay the bill?”
“I’ll consider forwarding that bill a sacred obligation.”
“I do like that black dress back there.”
He motioned for a salesgirl. “Then you should try it on.”
They shopped long past Seth’s lunch hour. She tried on dresses, pants, blouses, skirts, sweaters. Though Seth would have had her take it all, he let her sift through and find eight pieces she could mix and match, and three simple dresses.
The salesclerk happily tallied the price and boxed the first dress neatly. Expensively. From his days of living hand-to-mouth while at university and in his two years of working as a lowly broker for a big investment firm, he knew that little touches like a box with tissue paper made a person feel a bit better about themselves, about who they were.
He watched as the clerks tucked away the other two dresses, then the trousers, and started on the tops.
“Harper?”
The woman’s voice came from behind Seth. He turned and saw a tall, black-haired woman with big blue eyes very much like Harper’s.
“Mom?”
His gut almost exploded. Harper’s mom wore an expensive suit, shoes that probably set her back thousands and a purse that had probably cost more. The diamond on her left hand could have blinded him. All of Harper’s fears came into sharp focus for him. This was a woman who liked being rich, who thought more of money than people.
She reached out and caught Harper by the shoulders, hugged her, then kissed her cheek. “It’s so lovely to see you here.”
He thought the comment odd until he realized this boutique existed purely for wealthy clientele. Harper’s mom didn’t know her daughter was broke. She believed her daughter belonged there.
“And buying things!”
Her mother sounded thrilled, but also proud. Knowing appearances meant everything to her, he understood why she was over-the-top happy.
Harper, however, looked like a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming car. She opened her mouth as if trying to speak but couldn’t get any words out. Her eyes drifted to the stack of clothes, almost all packed into bags and boxes now.
Unconcerned about Harper’s silence, Harper’s mom faced Seth. “And who is this?”
He decided to pick up the dropped ball and held his hand out to shake Harper’s mom’s. “I’m Seth McCallan, Mrs. Sloan.”
She took his hand with a gasp. “Seth McCallan. Of course. I’ve seen you at a few charity functions. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. I’m Amelia Sloan. My husband is Peter. Please call me Amelia.”
He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Amelia.”
Pleasure lit Amelia Sloan’s face. “What are you doing here with my Harper?”
“Just a little shopping.”
The salesclerk finished boxing Harper’s new clothes and casually handed the receipt to Seth.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed, then widened slightly as she figured out Seth was paying for Harper’s purchases.
“It’s not what you think, Mom.”
Amelia clucked. “And how would you know what I think?”
While the women seemed to be on the same page, Seth needed a minute to process why Harper was struggling. Drowning really. Here was the very person Harper wanted to keep her situation from, standing in front of them, seeing someone buying clothes for her daughter. She didn’t know Harper was broke or that she intended to pay Seth for the purchases. And he realized explaining that might make things worse. Amelia would ask why Harper had to have someone else pay for her clothes, everything Harper was trying to hide would come tumbling out and the thing he’d spent a week of torture
to avoid would happen.
Amelia Sloan would blame Clark.
There was only one way to fix this...
“We’re dating.”
The words came out of Seth’s mouth in a rush, as if the quicker he said it, the quicker Amelia would stop going down a road that Harper didn’t want her traveling.
But where Amelia’s face glowed with happy surprise, Harper’s mouth fell open.
Her reaction would have ruined everything if Seth hadn’t thought to step closer and put his arm around her waist.
Amelia all but melted with joy. “You didn’t want me to know you were dating one of the most eligible men in Manhattan? Harper! That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. Because we’re not—”
Seth squeezed her waist. “We’re not serious. Just started seeing each other,” he said, trying to mitigate the lie.
Amelia’s eyes narrowed. “And you thought my Harper didn’t dress well enough for your rarefied world?”
“No!” Seth assured her, scrambling for what to say. “She said she liked something in the window.” Oh, crap. Another lie. “And I wanted to buy it for her.” He had wanted to buy her clothes. “Because it pleases me to give her things.” That, too, was the truth. Remembering the joyful expression on Harper’s face when the clothes she loved had looked so good on her, he’d give away half his trust fund to see that look on her face again.
“Well, that’s sweet.” Amelia hugged her daughter. “I’d love to get coffee and chat, but I have something this afternoon. Why don’t you and Seth bring the baby over some night.”
“I’m sorry. We probably can’t. We’re kind of busy, too,” Seth explained before Harper could answer. This might not be the perfect lie, but it would hold long enough to get Harper settled in a job and a house. Once they left the store and were away from her mom, he could tell her that. “But I’ll have my assistant call yours tomorrow and they can set something up like dinner.”
“That would be lovely,” Amelia said, her eyes glowing.
Seth quickly grabbed the packages and herded Harper toward the door. “We’ll see you then.”
Amelia waved.
Harper reminded stonily quiet.
When they stepped out onto the street, he wasn’t surprised that she pivoted on him. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I got you out of the store without having to admit anything to your mom.”
“Yeah, but now she’ll start snooping.”
“Into what?” He laughed. “She can call the tabloids, if she wants, looking for times we went out, places we’ve gone. But she’s not going to find anything.”
“And she’ll get suspicious.”
“So what?”
“You are such a babe in the woods. I’m either going to have to come clean with her, and soon, or we’re going to have to keep up this charade.”
“Would it be such a big deal to keep it up?”
She cast him a long look. “You can’t date anyone while you’re pretending to be dating me.”
“I feel uncomfortable leaving you alone at night, anyway.” He sighed. He hated lying. His father had been the consummate liar. He’d used lies to control, manipulate, humiliate, belittle and bully everyone from his employees to his own children. If there was one thing Seth had vowed never to do, it was lie.
But this was a worthy cause, an unusual situation. Harper, a widow with a baby, needed time to get herself settled before she told her mom she was broke and it was Clark’s fault.
Plus, her mom hadn’t appeared on the radar of Seth’s life before this. He didn’t think she’d start now. Unlike his father’s master manipulation lies, this little charade wouldn’t hurt anyone.
“Needing to get out of this mess will step up your job search a bit and we might have to start looking for houses before you have a job...but I think I did what I had to do.”
“You’re willing to pretend to be my boyfriend for at least the next four weeks?”
The ramifications of that rained down on him. No breakfasts, lunches or dinners with any women except colleagues...and no sex.
She shook her head. “That’s a long time.”
Yeah, that was sinking in and not pleasantly.
“And my mother is relentless. You’re a catch. She’s going to want me to keep you.”
That, thank God, made him laugh. “My reputation will save us. When we break up no one will be surprised.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. You’re taking this all too seriously. It’s a few weeks. What can she possibly do in a few weeks?”
CHAPTER FOUR
WHAT CAN SHE do in a few weeks?
Harper groaned. “You’d be surprised. So, we do have to step up the job search and the apartment hunt.”
“I already said that.”
She glanced at the armful of boxes he carried and the bags she had in her hand. “I’m going to need a cab.”
“No. Jake’s car is just up the street.” Juggling the boxes, he pulled out his phone, hit a few buttons and said, “Does Jake need you today?” He listened, then smiled. “Good. I have a friend who only has to go a few blocks, but she’s been shopping and has bags.” A pause. “Okay. We’re not even a block up the street from the office. You’ll see us on the sidewalk.”
He disconnected the call. “He’ll check in with Jake and be here in two minutes. I’ll wait with you.” He displayed the boxes. “Because I don’t think you can handle all these.”
They stood in silence until the limo pulled up. The trunk popped. The driver jumped out and took the packages from Harper, tucking them into the trunk. Seth handed him the boxes he held, and he stowed them away before returning to open the passenger door of the limo.
She turned to say thanks to Seth, but saw her mom coming out of the boutique—just in time to see her standing in front of a McCallan limo.
“Don’t look now but my mom is behind you.”
Seth’s eyebrows drew together. “She is?”
“I told you, her curiosity knows no bounds.”
“She’s looking?”
“Of course, she’s looking!”
“Then we’ll just have to make this realistic.” He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips. The movement was smooth, a light brush across her mouth, but it rained tingles down to her toes. Her breath hitched, caught in her chest and froze.
She thought he’d pull away. He didn’t. She told herself she should move back, but she couldn’t. All those questions about him rose up in her, but so did the sweet sensations of being attracted to someone. Of feeling like a woman.
He took a step closer. She took a step toward him. His arms circled her waist. Her hands went to his shoulders. The kiss deepened. The press of his lips became a crush. Arousal blossomed in her belly, scrambled her pulse, shattered her concentration.
When he moved his mouth, she opened hers for him—
And common sense returned.
Not only was her mother watching, but Harper was also kissing Clark’s best friend...and a womanizer. Even if he wasn’t Clark’s best friend, he was all wrong for her. And she missed Clark. She didn’t want another man. Not yet. She didn’t want to lose Clark’s memory...to forget him.
She jerked back. Not risking another glance into those dark eyes of his, she took the few steps from the sidewalk to the limo. As casually as possible, she said, “I’ll see you at home.”
She slid into the limo. She didn’t wait to see Seth’s reaction, didn’t peer at the boutique door to see if her mom was still watching. There was no need. The damage had been done. Not only did her mom think she was dating one of the wealthiest men in Manhattan, but that man had also kissed her. Greedily. Hungrily.
She could close her eyes and remember the kiss. Every movement of his mouth.
The limo sped off
and she covered her face with her hands. She didn’t know which was worse—her mom thinking she was dating a catch or liking the kiss of a man she shouldn’t be kissing. Clark might be gone, but he wasn’t forgotten. She’d adored him. She didn’t want to replace him.
She wasn’t even ready to think about replacing him.
She wasn’t even ready to think about liking someone.
After flubbing her interview that morning, she’d thought her situation couldn’t get any worse, and in the blink of an eye—or the brush of some lips—it had worsened exponentially.
Because worse than the longing that had sprung up inside her, worse than the kiss, worse than her mom thinking she and Seth were dating, was a deep sadness, a quiet reminder whispered from the depths of her soul that Clark was gone.
* * *
Seth stood watching the limo drive off. He’d kissed a lot of women in his lifetime but, somehow, he’d always known kissing Harper would be different. Every cell in his body had awakened. His blood had electrified. His mind shot back eight years, to when he should have asked her out—instead of stepping away so Clark could ask her out. Back to when he’d still believed in miracles, in magic, and he remembered his yearning to make her his.
He turned to walk to his building. Knowing her mom was watching, he kept his expression neutral. He didn’t smile or frown or grimace until he was behind the closed door of his office, then he had to hold back a howl of misery. He could not have that woman. He was a serial dater. No. He wasn’t even that nice. He was a one-night-stand guy. Harper was a woman with a child. A widow. She needed security. He did not get involved with women like her because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. His definition of making a woman “his” now was very different than what it had been eight years ago.
He could not kiss her again.
But he wanted to.
And that’s what made him nuts. Until he’d kissed her he’d been curious. And, yeah, maybe a little needy for it. But he’d been smart enough to ignore the urge. Now that he knew how great kissing her was, he would think of that kiss every time he looked at her.
