by Liv Morris
“Harlow invited her best friend to brunch to meet you. I’m pretty sure she’s a sure thing,” James says to Sin. “At least that is the rumor.”
“That’s not fair.” I try to defend Emma’s honor, but I notice Sin looking at me with searching eyes. Does he think I’m trying to hook him up with her? I pray he doesn’t, since it is the furthest thing from my mind.
“Look, Sin. She’s young and you’re young. No harm in a little fun while you’re here, right?” James punches Sin in the arm, and Sin flinches away from him.
“Right,” Sin responds with a sharp edge, his eyes seeking mine again. I get the feeling he doesn’t want to be pushed into something with her.
We have almost walked to the spot where Emma stands, still gaping at Sin. I understand her reaction. His type of hot doesn’t happen in Rochester—ever.
“Morning, Emma,” I say in a singsong voice in hopes of breaking through the Sin-induced spell she has fallen under. She shakes her head and turns toward me. She mouths the word, “Wow,” and her eyes glaze over in a dreamy state.
“Holy shit. Is this him?” she asks softly while pulling me into a hug. True to form, Emma doesn’t wait a second to find out the name of the hottie standing in front of her. I can’t blame her, though. I had the same swoony flush when I saw him at the airport. And just a few minutes ago as he walked to the building from the parking lot.
“Emma, I want you to meet Sinclair, James’ nephew. He’s here for The Clinic’s clerkship,” I say, giving a short and to the point introduction. I don’t think Emma is listening to me, anyway.
“Hello, Sin,” Emma says, doing a perfect Mae West impression. She holds her hand out to him and when he takes it, a stab of green jealousy rushes over me.
“Harlow mentioned you yesterday. Nice to meet you.”
“Well, now that the introductions are out of the way, let’s find our table.” James takes my hand in his and leads us to our usual spot in our Sunday morning routine.
We’ve sat in the same table every Sunday since right after my mother was killed. It’s a four-topper with a perfect view overlooking the 18th green. Several other doctors from The Clinic sit at tables nearby with their families or second wives. Still, no other couple has the age difference James and I do.
A few of James’ “friends” tip their mimosas and bloody mary’s to our group as we pass. The too-forward Dr. Bennett sits with his wife and flashes his filthy eyes from my chest to my legs. Since the blinders over my eyes have lifted, I am beginning to see why James calls the dirty doctor his closest friend. The doctor’s perusal makes me want to brush off my brunch appropriate dress, as James would classify it.
Finally, we reach the table after walking by all the scrutinizing eyes weighing their judgments. Once I leave James, the only reason I’d ever step foot in this place would be to see Paul. Even then, I don’t know if I could. The chance of running into James would be too high.
Always the public gentleman, James pulls out my chair and I sit down. Sin follows suit and helps Emma into her seat across from me. To any outsider, we look like two couples set out to enjoy a meal together.
“So, this is the club,” James says, glancing around the room. “Harlow and I dine here often. I prefer this crowd to the local restaurants. I hate running into patients or their families.”
“Afraid of the masses, huh, James?” Emma asks with a snarky undertone.
I move my foot under the table toward her, gently tap her leg, and shake my head when she looks my way. I need her to be on her best behavior.
“Just kidding, of course,” Emma adds. I lower my shoulders and exhale.
Sin flicks his whiskey-colored eyes to mine and knits his brow. I can only imagine the anxiety showing on my face. I can’t afford a big scene between Emma and James today. When James gets angry or worked up about something, he wants to fuck away his anger. I almost cringe at the thought.
One more day. Just one, and I will never have to worry about his hands on me again.
The server arrives at the table to ask what we would like to drink. It eases some of the tension in the air. I need to keep distracting James, even if it means talking about our wedding—anything to keep him from suspecting I’m leaving him tomorrow. I order my first dirty martini. God knows I need at least one to get through the rest of this crazy day.
“So, you live in New York City?” Emma asks while leaning toward Sin. Her white blouse falls open, wide enough to give him a perfect view of her cleavage. I grit my teeth at her display, but not at her personally. She has no idea I’m battling these odd feelings about Sin—feelings I can’t admit to having while sitting next to my fiancé, his own uncle.
“All my life,” he replies. I want to add minus a year in Australia, but I don’t. James would wonder how I know so much about Sin. In the past three days, I’ve learned more about him than the man I’m supposed to marry.
One man is a vault. The other an open book.
The contrast is what helped me see what was going on in my life more clearly, along with Sin’s warmth, humanity, and sincerity. I could kick myself for being so blind.
“I dream of going to New York,” Emma states.
“Me, too,” I add, because it’s true. My dream would be attending NYU and earning a degree in creative writing. Which will never happen since I’m having a hard time pulling together enough money to walk out James’ front door.
“I’ll have to take you there someday.” James reaches over to touch my hand. I fight the urge to pull away from his touch and flash him a weak smile instead.
I bury myself in the menu, searching for what I’ll order, even though I could recite each page by heart. Emma continues to ask Sin questions and I continue to tune them out. Finally, our drinks arrive and I almost order my next one as the server sets mine down.
Sin’s napkin drops beside my purse on the floor next to me and I reach down to pick it up for him, but his hand rests on my arm to stop me. A sliver of electricity pulses over my skin at the point of his touch.
“I’ve got it.” He moves quickly and rustles around on the floor. I can’t see what he’s doing, but he sits back up with the napkin in hand. He gives me a warm smile that does unspeakable things to me—things James’ smile has never done.
“Sinclair,” Emma preens, not missing a beat. Her interest in Sin is quite obvious. I think she would be perched on his lap if we were at one of the bars downtown. “What a name? I love it.”
I have to roll my eyes. Of course she loves his name and everything below his belt. I need to snap out of it and let it go. Emma’s my best friend. She’s single. He’s single. And I’m in limbo.
“Well, that makes one of us.” Sin chuckles and glances at me for a little longer than he should.
“Sinclair has always hated his name.” James throws his comment on the table with no emotion, as if he were referring to the weather. I notice a frown on Sin’s face and I want to tell him how much I love his name. It’s raw and strong, like him—forbidden with a certain edge—but I keep my mouth shut.
“Hate is a strong word. Let’s just say I prefer my nickname, Sin.” I swear, Emma’s eyes become dreamy. “Harlow, your name is unique.” Sin turns his attention to me. I shift in my chair, unsure of how much to engage with him.
“I can tell you how she got her name.” Emma solves the problem for me.
“Wait. I know,” James interrupts. I squint my eyes at him, wondering what he will say. “When she was born with a head full of blond curls, the nurses all said she looked like a baby version of Jean Harlow—the old movie actress from the nineteen-thirties—so her mother named her after the actress.”
“But …” I say in shock. What? My world starts to spin and I become light-headed. I never told James the story about my mother naming me. I’ve only shared it with one other person in my life. Emma.
“You remember telling me, right?” I stare back at James in disbelief. He knows he has been caught and now he’s trying to weasel his way out
of it.
“Uh …” I stammer.
“She has trouble remembering things after her mother died,” James interrupts before I can tell him I don’t remember and it’s not because I forgot. I never once mentioned it to him. He never let me talk about my mother at all. She was a taboo subject in his house.
How in the hell does he know this story? The only other option makes my stomach heave. It had to have been my mother.
But when? The possibilities usher a cold, damp sweat over my skin. I try to ignore the thoughts running through my head.
I do my best to keep it together the rest of brunch. I should confront him and find out the truth, but I’m so close to leaving him.
If it were possible to run out the door, I would without a thought. Instead, I nod when it’s appropriate and shift food around on my plate. I even manage to eat a couple bites.
One question drowns out everything around me: did he know my mother? Deep down, I know the answer, and it horrifies me.
James rubs his hand over mine and the simple contact brings me out of my shock-induced stupor. His touch sickens me to my soul and I pull my hand away.
“You’re being awfully quiet today, love.”
“It’s that headache still.” This time, my excuse isn’t a lie. My head feels like it might split in two.
“Maybe we should leave,” James says. I nod my head and try to compose myself. “Why don’t you let Emma drive you straight home? I’ll lead Sinclair downtown to the condo.”
“Are you okay with that, Emma?” I ask, praying she says yes. I need to talk to her about everything—leaving James, him knowing about how I was named. My world has been turned upside down and I can’t shake the fear prickling my skin. If James knew my mother before he met me … I can’t begin to wrap my head around what that means and how he became a part of my life. The possibilities frighten me.
“Sure. I’m free for the rest of the day.” She might be addressing me, but her eyes rest on Sin.
I hate that my last few minutes with Sin are clouded by this pounding in my head. I get up from the table and Emma comes to my side.
“You really aren’t doing well.” She laces her elbow with mine.
“Just need some fresh air,” I say, fighting back tears. Though I’m scared from the revelation about James, I’m more upset about never seeing Sin again. I want to give him a hug goodbye, but James will freak out if I do.
Emma ushers me through the club’s lobby area. Paul never works Sundays, but I wish he were scheduled today. I need to see his smiling face.
Once we are outside, we walk toward the parking lot. I take a couple deep breaths, but the unnerving fears linger.
“Sin.” Sin’s name rolls off Emma’s tongue. “He’s the hottest guy I’ve ever spoken to. The color of his eyes. His jaw porn. His hard body. Damn, Harlow. Is it bad that I want to screw his brains out?” She giggles, and I flinch.
How can I tell her it’s bad when, if I’m honest with myself, I want to be with him, too? Why fight the truth? His touch against my skin is electrifying, where as James’ fingers are as cold as ice. But I have to face reality. Being with Sin is impossible. We would never have a chance.
“He’s a great guy,” I say through heavy tears, unable to keep them at bay any longer. Next, my shoulders start to shake with sobs. I am a complete mess.
“What is going on?” Emma asks.
“Just get me to the car.” This time, she takes my hand in hers. I glance up and see her concerned face through my wet tears.
“Harlow!” Sin calls out from somewhere behind me. I forgot he parked in the lot, leaving James likely alone, waiting for his Mercedes sedan at the valet.
I stop in my tracks, even though Emma’s car is right next to me. I hate for Sin to see me like this. He probably thinks I’m an emotionally unstable head case—and he would be right. Yesterday, I lost it with him, and now, I’m losing it over him.
“Something’s up.” Emma moves to stand in front of me. “Sin kept looking at you during brunch. He hardly took his eyes off you, no matter how hard I tried to get his attention.”
I bury my head in my hands. “How did my life get to be such a damn mess?”
“Oh, Harlow.” Emma lovingly rubs my shoulder. “You’ve been through so much.”
“I’m leaving James,” I choke out the words.
“Yes!” Emma doesn’t hide her enthusiasm. “But is there something up with Sin?”
I let my hands fall down to my sides and look at Emma. “There can’t be anything with him. Ever.”
Footsteps approach me from behind, and then stop. I smell Sin before I even know he is standing by me. That earthy leather scent, it will always be him to me.
“Emma, can I speak with Harlow for a moment? Alone?” Sin stands next to Emma and she nods before walking to the driver’s door of her car.
I glance over my shoulder and don’t see James from where I’m standing. I have a few precious seconds to tell Sin goodbye. I wipe my eyes and try on a feeble smile. I don’t want his last memory of me to be this sobbing mess.
“Thank you for everything.” I stare up into those beautiful whiskey eyes of his and my control fades away. My vision blurs again and I give in to the emotion.
“I’ve done nothing for you yet, Harlow, but I want to.” Sin brings a finger to my cheek and wipes away my tears. His finger caresses my skin with the lightest of touches, but I feel it all the way to my toes. “Seeing you cry like this is breaking me up inside.”
“You can’t get involved with me. I’m going to leave James and he will be looking for me. I won’t come between you two.”
“It’s too late. I slipped a phone in your bag earlier when I dropped my napkin.”
“What?” I peek into my purse and see something wrapped in paper. “Why?”
“It’s why I went to the store this morning. I need to talk to you without James knowing. There is more going on with him than you know. I don’t just want to help you. I need to. I’ll call you from my car.” Sin peers past me and I assume he’s looking for James by the front of the club. He bends down and kisses me on my forehead. My breathing stops, and maybe my heart too. I close my eyes and let the kiss of his full lips soak into me. For the moment, the warmth of his touch helps soothe away some of my worry.
“James is getting in his car and I need to follow him, so I have to go. Be ready for my call. And Harlow, it’s going to be okay. I promise.” He crosses his heart as he walks backward a few steps. Then he turns and runs toward the white Porsche a few cars over from where I stand. I reach into my purse and grab ahold of the phone. This time, the lifeline I’m reaching for has a wonderful, kind man on the other end.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sin
James waits for me at the circle drive entrance in his car. When he catches sight of me, he pulls up next to me in his Mercedes. He rolls down his window and I do the same.
“We’re not too far from downtown. Follow behind me and try to keep up.” He raises his window with a shit-eating smirk on his warped face—one I hope to wipe off as soon as fucking possible. I drive behind his car out of the club’s main entry onto the adjoining street.
Emma’s car was still parked in the lot when I passed by it to meet James. I didn’t see them in the rearview mirror as I left the club’s grounds either.
A protective part of me wanted to take Harlow away from James as I stood watching tears stream down her soft cheeks. I hated her breaking down for a man who wasn’t worth a single tear. Uncle or not, the man has ensnared a vulnerable woman to mold to his will. Controlling her to be his puppet to move and behave as he pulls the strings. Tangling her in a life she has no control over.
After I’ve driven a mile or two from the club, I retrieve my cell phone sitting on the seat next to me. I’m itching to hear Harlow’s voice. Her face showed such torment when I walked away from her in the parking lot. And that kiss on her forehead … what an innocent touch, but it affected me in a not so innocent way
. I can’t deny the attraction I have for Harlow. Nor can I deny wanting to make her mine. But never in the cruel way James treats her. I will settle for helping her escape James’ clutches, and maybe I can somehow be with her, but only on her terms and desires.
I shake my head, knowing I am getting way ahead of myself here. First action I need to take is getting her away from my uncle. Now that I know she wants to leave him, one hurdle has fallen.
James stops at a red light and I ease to a stop behind him. I focus on the screen of my phone and pull up Harlow’s burner number. I hit call, bring the phone to my ear, and wait.
“Sin?” Harlow asks in hesitation.
“It’s me.”
“Your name came up on the screen, but I wasn’t sure.”
“I programmed it into the phone. Keep it hidden, too. I feared James might be monitoring your cell phone, so I bought that one. This way, we could talk without him finding out.”
Harlow sighs into the phone. “I decided to leave him last night. I have a plan.” I hear Emma give a shout in the background, but Harlow’s voice sounds unsteady and forced. Though, I don’t hear tears in her tone. I hope she is doing better.
“What’s your plan?”
“Well …” she pauses, “I’m going to pawn something in the morning. If I get enough for it, then I’ll have some money to rent an apartment. I can probably get my old job back, too.”
Pawning? No way in hell am I letting her do that to get out from under James’ hold. But if I come at her too strong, how am I different than James? She’s owning her decisions, and I need to push back and let her.
“Before you do anything, will you meet me in the morning? You need to know about James’ history. He’s had issues. Obsessive ones.”
“I feared this already.” I’m not surprised that she has this insight into James. She has lived with him for months. Leaving him wasn’t an easy decision.
