by Gina Azzi
“Right. So he came to me last week with this idea…” I explain the concept behind Soul Sanctuary. Harlow watches me proudly as I fill Zoe and Eli in.
“Wow,” Eli blows out a deep breath when I’m finished.
“I love this idea!” Zoe exclaims, throwing her arms around me. “This is so important, Connor.” She leans back and her expression wobbles.
“Are you going to cry?” Eli asks, horrified.
Zoe sniffles and shakes her head. “Ignore me. It’s the hormones. I just, I love that you’re switching gears and bringing attention and action to an important issue.”
“Thanks, Zo.” I pat her back, a little troubled by the tears welling in her eyes.
Eli shakes his head at me, letting me know she really is okay.
“How can we help?” Zoe asks.
Harlow claps her hands together, directing the attention of the kitchen to her. “Excellent question, Zo. Here’s what we’re thinking.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a folder. From that, she takes out several bound proposals that we spent the last few nights working on and passes them around.
“Our approach is two-prong…” As Harlow launches into the pitch, I flip through the pages which covers the details of similar programs, a range of statistics of sexual violence and physical assault in Chicago, and a fundraising initiative and launch strategy for Soul Sanctuary.
Slowly, excitement begins to buzz through my veins. Harlow has taken my thoughts, my vision, and turned it into something tangible that other people can understand and want to take part in.
Flickering my gaze to my girl, who is animatedly explaining the speaker series to Zoe and Eli, my heart thuds so loudly I can hear it.
This woman, she undoes me. She supports me. She cares about the same things I care about.
And I’m falling in love with her.
“They’re in!” Harlow whoops, throwing her fist in the air.
“Yeah, well after that presentation, how could they not be?” I hold out my fist and Harlow pounds it.
“I’m so excited Zoe wants to help with the launch. It’ll be fun to work with her, hang out, just do something together again.”
“Me too. But you were really incredible, Low.”
“Thank you.” She curtsies, before sitting down across from me at my kitchen table.
I reach over and grab her hand. “No, Low. Thank you. I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing. If it wasn’t for you, I doubt I’d be able to get this off the ground.”
“You would. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Scott.”
“You don’t either, Reid.”
She wrinkles her nose. “I need to ask you something.”
“What’s up?” Trepidation fills my body at those six words. Did something happen? Is something wrong?
“Don’t look so scared. It’s not a bad thing. Well, depending on who you ask…”
“Low?”
“Would you go with me to the premiere in two weeks?”
“Eli’s premiere?”
She nods, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Bryce’s premiere,” I add, putting two and two together.
Harlow sighs, hugging her hands to her chest. “You don’t have to come. I just thought, well, it could be fun. I mean, I’ll have to work but not for that long. Mostly at the beginning and end to make sure Eli is in the right places for photos and interviews. It might be a little boring for you, but I’m sure Zoe would love the company and —”
“Does this have something to do with your mom?”
Harlow’s mouth drops open before she closes it, working a swallow. “How did —”
“Zoe mentioned she was blowing up your phone.”
Harlow sighs again, rubbing the space between her eyebrows. “She wants me to bring Chris McCallister.”
“The actor?”
Harlow gives me a look. “No, the dental hygienist. Of course the actor! You know what my mom is like.”
She says the comment off-handedly, because in many ways, having known Harlow for as long as I have, I do know what her mother is like. Social climbing, meddling, infuriating. But still, I’ve never met Mrs. Reid-Kinsley and I was stupidly hoping she might like me when I did. My stomach sinks as I realize that in Harlow’s mother’s eyes, I will never be good enough for her daughter. I mean, she’s right. But it sucks to know I have no chance of impressing her.
“You don’t want to go with McCallister?”
“Connor!” Harlow smacks her palm against the table. “Of course I don’t want to go with Chris. I thought, I thought we were —”
“We are,” I cut her off, standing from the table and pulling her up until I can wrap my arms around her. She sighs into my chest, the heat of her breath trapped between us. Pulling back, I clasp her hands in mine. “We are. I just… it’s stupid, but I hate that you have this entire life I know nothing about. Well, maybe I know about it, but I don’t understand it. Or like it. L.A., parties with famous people, featured in celebrity gossip.” I pause, choosing my words carefully. A flicker of panic flares in my throat but I swallow it back down. “It’s like you have this whole other identity that I don’t know. That’s nothing like…you.”
The flecks of sage in Harlow’s eyes burn as she stares at me. “I know it may seem like that but trust me, Connor, you know the real me.”
I lick my lips, my stomach twisting and my chest tight. “I just…I feel all these things for you, Low. And I fucking hate the thought of you going to some fancy premiere, getting all dressed up and looking sexy, for a fucker like Bryce or a wannabe like McCallister.”
“You’re jealous?”
I groan, hating the truth of it. I’m so fucking jealous my skin should glow green. I nod once, embarrassed but honest. “I don’t want to lose you, Harlow. Not again to that damn city and its pull.” I tug her closer until her hands are splayed against my chest once more. The feel of her in my arms only heightens my frustration of her going to this premiere on the arm of another man. I run my hands down her back, my fingertips teasing the sliver of skin above the waistband of her shorts. Jesus, I want her. “I’m more jealous than I’ve any right to be, I know that. But, I don’t want our chance to crash and burn before we even take it.”
“Then come with me. Be my date.” She leans back. Her eyes hold mine, beseeching.
My fingers continue to stroke her skin and she melts back into my frame. “Okay,” I agree, the corner of my mouth lifting into a smile as Harlow’s face blossoms into a sunflower.
She cheers, leaping into my arms and wrapping her legs around my torso. “Really?”
“Really.” I start walking toward my bedroom, some of my panic easing now that I know she’ll be on my arm.
“Ah! God, I can’t wait to see you in a sharp suit.”
“Hold up.” I halt.
“And I’m going to wear an incredible gown. It’s emerald, with a plunging neckline and a slit that goes all the way up my right thigh.”
I start walking again. “Keep talking.”
“I’ll wear my hair up.”
I toss Harlow onto my bed.
“And these gorgeous shoes I just purchased. Strappy, high, so damn sexy.” She groans as I kiss under her jawline, my tongue flicking out to taste her sweet skin.
“Your dress sounds hot, babe.”
“It is.”
I pull her shorts and underwear down her legs in one sharp tug. “But I prefer you like this.” I grin at her before lowering my head.
Harlow bucks off the bed when my mouth connects with her core. Her hands grasp at my hair. “Wait til you see the lingerie I’m wearing to the premiere.”
I raise my head, glaring at her.
“You’ll love it even more,” she says saucily, before arching her back and collapsing into the mattress.
13
Harlow
“Hey!” Eli calls as I slip out of Connor’s truck. “You’re late.” He points to the Rolex on his wrist.
; “But I’m ready to work!” I holler back, racing past him and into the house.
Of course, he’s on my heels. “Low, I need —”
“I know. To run through your interviews for the premiere, discuss talking points for your appearance on the Night Show, and an update on the renovations in your L.A. condo.” I pull a folder out of my bag and hand it to him.
Eli frowns. “You already did all that? It’s only.” He glances at said Rolex. “10AM.”
“This is why you hired me, Eli,” I remind him.
“Yeah, I know.”
I walk into the kitchen and sit down at the island, rifling through the various folders in my bag. “Connor’s coming with me to the premiere.”
Eli chokes on the coffee he’s sipping. “Connor? In a suit?”
“I know. He’s going to look so fucking —”
“Stop talking.” Eli holds up a hand and I snicker. “Want a coffee?”
“Iced?”
“Yeah. I’ll just make your Nespresso over ice.” He turns, filling up a mug with ice before popping a pod into the Nespresso machine. “You know, you used to make me coffee,” he grumbles.
“Don’t tell anyone I ever admitted this, but I really missed working for you. I’m glad we’re back.”
He turns to me in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I mean, not the grunt work or dealing with your moody, hungover ass, but the other parts. The travel, the camaraderie with the team, the hustle. It’s like I never slept and was on 24/7. Every day was this clean canvas. A million unknowns, endless variables, total chaos. It was fun!”
“Yeah,” Eli agrees, drawing out the word. “I know what you mean. There was this… I don’t know, an energy in those early days. I was the underdog, everyone bet against me, and with something to prove I felt almost unstoppable.”
“Exactly. We were unstoppable.”
Eli chuckles, setting my coffee in front of me. “It was a hell of a ride.”
“It was. But it can’t beat any of this.” I gesture toward the expansive kitchen filled with every new gadget and top-of-the-line appliance known to man.
“No.” Eli grins. “You’re right. Nothing can top this. Being with Zoe, having Maddie, about to have another little nugget…this is the fucking best. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
“I’m happy for you, Eli.”
Eli pauses, fixing me with a curious glance. “What’s really going on with you and Connor?”
“We’re…us. Figuring it out as we go.”
“Look, I know you’ve been into him for a while and you guys have a twisted history…”
“But…”
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Low. Or Connor.”
“I’d never hurt Connor.”
Eli sighs, wrapping his hands around his mug. “I know. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you guys live in two different worlds, two different realities.”
“Like you and Zoe?” I quirk an eyebrow. Their relationship was even more unlikely if someone was taking dumb realities into consideration.
“I’m not saying it can’t work. I’m just saying it’s harder. There are curveballs and things that come up that you don’t think are an issue because they’re normal for you. But they’re not normal for the other person. Look, I want you both to be happy. You guys are my best friends.”
“Aww.” I place a hand over my heart until Eli flips me off.
“I’m just saying,” he continues, “be careful. Talk things through. Don’t take anything for granted. It’s a surefire way to waste time putting distance between you when you should be growing closer. Feel me?”
“Yeah. I never thought I’d take relationship advice from you.”
He grins, lifting his chin at me. “I never thought I’d have anything to share. But marriage teaches you a thing or two. Just know that Connor will always have your best interests at heart. He will always put you first, even if it hurts him. Be aware of that, Low. He might not ever say it but he cares a hell of a lot more than he lets on.”
“I know.” I bite the corner of my mouth. Connor’s jealousy over my potential dates to Eli’s premiere flares in my mind. The truth is, premieres and events in Hollywood circles are part of my job. They’ve been part of my life since I was a kid because of my stepdad. They’re nothing I think twice about. But of course, they would be a much bigger deal to anyone not in those circles. They would bother Connor and if our situations were flipped, they would bother me too. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. Okay, before we talk about the premiere, let’s talk about the other appearances I’ve got coming up…” Eli opens the calendar on his phone.
I open mine too, to sync his schedule.
Reaching over, I punch him in the arm. “You really missed me, huh?”
He snorts, flipping me the bird again.
I laugh.
Nodding at the dates Eli rattles off, I tamp down my happiness. Eli and I haven’t always had the best working relationship, mainly because we’re too damn close and care about each other too much to keep the professional just business when we’re more like family, but, it works. Now, working for him again instead of going back to host reality TV, seems like a gift. I’m grateful that I’m not in L.A. I’m happy that I’m building the career I’ve always wanted.
I’m relieved that Bryce’s ring isn’t binding my finger.
Connor: What are you wearing?
I snort and reread his message.
Me: Are you for real right now?
My phone rings. I answer immediately. “Didn’t take you for a sext-er.”
“I’m going to fucking kill Evan.”
I laugh. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing, I was going to call you in a bit but then Evan sent that stupid message…”
“What’s going on?”
Connor clears his throat. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing really. Want to hang?”
“I want to take you to dinner.”
“Like…out?”
Connor chuckles again and I grin. Who is this man who laughs so easily? “Yes, Harlow. Out. On a date. With me.” He spells it out for me, but I hear the humor underlining his words and my smile widens until I’m sure my face is going to crack.
“Are you spitting your best game?” I joke.
“Baby, you can’t handle my best game.”
I laugh again.
“Go to dinner with me tonight, Low.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight. And even though I’m not a sext-er, I’m not opposed to you wearing something sexy.”
I giggle. Giggle! “I’ll see you then.”
“Okay,” Connor says, then hangs up.
I stare at my phone in my hand, still smiling like a lunatic. Connor is taking me out on a date. A real date.
Excitement buzzes in my veins and I feel giddy. Standing from my couch, I tap out a message to Zoe.
Me: I have a date.
Zoe: Hallelujah! What are you wearing?
Me: That’s what I was going to ask you…
Zoe: Come over. Bring the stuff for Soul Sanctuary. We’ll do some work, you’ll drink some wine, and we’ll sort out your outfit.
Me: Done!
I pack up my Soul Sanctuary folder and notes and head straight to Zoe’s. My body feels lighter, like it’s floating through air. I realize it’s been too long since I’ve felt this kind of excitement. It’s innocent and sincere, the way I used to feel about first dates a thousand moons ago. The building anticipation, the girl-time gossip, the getting ready for a big night out with a boy who makes my head spin.
It feels so good to lose myself in all of it.
When I reach Zoe’s house, she’s sitting on the front porch, watching Maddie play in the yard.
“Yay!” she exclaims when she sees me, standing to her feet.
“I feel like a teenager,” I admit. “I haven’t had a date like this, one where I’
m giddy and breathless, in years.”
“That’s how it’s supposed to be.” Zoe hugs me hello. “Maddie’s babysitter should be here any second. I thought we could do some work on Soul Sanctuary before we raid my closet.”
“Sounds good,” I agree.
Maddie’s babysitter Kaylee arrives five minutes later and stays outside playing with Maddie as Zoe and I slip indoors.
I pull out my folder and spread the papers out on the kitchen table.
“Okay,” Zoe says, sitting down. “Tell me all the things.”
“I really want to see how we can use your platform to build buzz about both the program’s mission and Cyanide MMA.”
“Right.” Zoe picks up a pen and starts jotting down some notes. “I can do an episode, or at least an introductory video, for That Fit Bitch Life that raises awareness about the issue and then plugs Cyanide as a gym that’s launching a program to address it?”
“That sounds like a great start.”
“Okay, let’s come up with talking points for that first.”
Zoe and I dive into the work, settling on the statistics to flag, the scope of the program to share, and Cyanide’s vision.
“Drop your pen!” Zoe exclaims out of nowhere, her expression alarmed.
“What?” My pen clatters to the table as I lean toward her. “Are you okay? Is it the baby?”
She rolls her eyes. “The baby is fine. It’s your date!”
“Oh my God.” I glance at my phone, blanching when I see it’s already 6PM. I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the panic in my mind. “I totally lost track of time.”
“Me too.”
“I have two hours.”
“Right.” Zoe nods, exhaling slowly.
We look at each other and crack up. “We’re ridiculous.”
She rolls her eyes. “I know. I really thought you were late for a second.”
“So did I! You looked so scared!”
She chuckles, pulling herself up from her seat. “Come on, let’s go play in my closet. Grab a bottle of wine. At least one of us should drink.”
I duck into the bar fridge, find an open bottle of Riesling, and pour myself a glass. “Yes, please. The clothes Jack shipped me arrived, but you know how guys pack.”
