by Liv Morris
“Come in,” someone calls.
The receptionist opens the door on cue and we walk into the office. It has a large glass window with a sweeping view of downtown Chicago. A well-dressed man moves around a large desk in the middle of the office.
“Please, come in,” the man says with a warm smile, instantly putting me at ease.
The man is a few inches shorter than Sin and wears a midnight blue suit with a red silk tie. He looks like a lawyer, dignified and polished down to his shiny shoes.
“Good afternoon. Miss Masters, I presume?” the man asks, looking at me. I nod my head. “Samuel Myers.”
“Nice to meet you,” I respond, thankful my manners haven’t slipped my mind with all my edginess.
Mr. Myers reaches out and we shake hands. “I am the attorney for Thomas Bradley’s family trust. Let me introduce you to Andrea Bradley, the executor of the trust.”
I follow Mr. Myers eyes and see a woman standing near a far wall. I didn’t see her when I entered, but she is beautiful, classy. Her shoulder-length black hair frames her pale face. Add red lipstick and piercing greenish eyes, and she’s stunning.
“Hello, Miss Masters,” Ms. Bradley says, walking toward me. “I am Thomas Bradley’s widow.”
“Hello,” I reply, unsure what more to say to her. I might be the child from an affair her husband had with another woman. The word awkward comes to mind. She reaches out to shake my hand and I quickly wipe my palm across my dress before shaking it.
Sin places his hand on the small of my back and the tension leaves my body at his touch. I turn to him and give him a small smile, trying to tell him thanks with my eyes. He understands me and nods.
“I see you brought two people with you today,” Mr. Myers acknowledges the two pillars of strength at my side.
“Sinclair Elliott.” Sin shakes Mr. Myers’ hand. “I’m Harlow’s boyfriend.”
I’ll never get tired of Sin telling people we are together. He gazes down at me and I see a sparkle in his whiskey-colored eyes.
“Yes, we spoke on the phone. Glad you are here with Miss Masters,” Mr. Myers says, and turns to my grandmother. “And you must be Margaret McMasters.”
“I am,” Margaret replies.
“Please, have a seat.” Mr. Myers gestures to three chairs in front of his desk.
We follow his instructions and sit down. Mr. Myers drags another chair to the desk so Thomas’ widow can join us.
There is a silent pause as we all stare at one another, the anticipation building.
“Well, I imagine you’re wondering why we wanted to see you,” Mr. Myers pauses. “Do you mind if I call you Harlow?”
“Please do,” I respond.
“You can call me Samuel. Hell, let’s all go by our first names,” Sam says, following it with a chuckle. “Now that the introductions are finished, Andrea will share the purpose of this meeting.”
I turn my attention to Andrea. Her hands are resting in her lap and she appears to be at ease, unlike me. She clears her throat before starting.
“First off, I want you to know how sorry I am your mother was killed. You are so young to have lost her.”
“Thank you.” My response is strained as I hold back my emotions.
“Thank you,” she says with purpose, “for reaching out to Samuel and agreeing to come here today. Several years ago, my late husband found out he had a deadly form of melanoma. He went on a spiritual retreat when treatments were no longer an option for him.” Andrea’s voice cracks as she speaks. “When he returned, he was a different man—a much-improved version of himself. He began a quest to make amends with those he’d wronged in his life.”
I glance at Sin, my boyfriend, and reach for his hand. Steadying my heart, I continue to listen to Andrea.
“Thomas confessed to having an affair with your mother, Marie. He told me she had no idea he was married until you came along. He said how he treated your mother was the biggest regret of his life.”
Tears begin to form in my eyes and the old lump in my throat returns. I try to hold back the tears and turn toward Margaret to see how she’s fairing. Our watery eyes match, but hers are filled with tender regret for herself, my mother, and me.
“Here, Harlow and Margaret.” Sin pulls a couple tissues from a wooden container sitting on the corner of the desk. He hands them to us and we wipe away our tears.
“Thanks, Sin,” I say, and Margaret echoes.
“Believe me. I understand,” Andrea speaks in a comforting tone.
She doesn’t hold anything against me. When she looks at me, there’s nothing cold or contentious in her gaze. Her actions are just the opposite, kind and understanding. I am not a threat to her, nor an ugly reminder of her husband’s infidelity. She has fully forgiven Thomas, and I want to hear more—understand him and try to follow in Andrea’s footsteps of forgiveness, if it’s possible.
“He paid your mother twenty thousand dollars in hopes she would forget him and end her pregnancy. Even going so far as threatening to ruin Marie’s mother financially if she didn’t do as he wanted. He needed to hide the affair from me.” Andrea pauses and looks at Margaret, who is crying so hard, her shoulders are shaking.
“For what it’s worth, Thomas cried when he shared this part with me. He said he needed to find Marie, but he never heard from her again.” Sin hands out another round of tissues and Andrea pauses my father’s story while we try to compose ourselves.
“There’s no need for you to take a DNA test, Harlow. Frankly, you’ve been through enough. I am convinced, after discussing this with Samuel, you are Thomas’ daughter. Thomas set aside three hundred thousand dollars for Marie, if she was ever located. He would’ve left more money if he had known about you. He truly thought Marie didn’t have you, since he never heard from her. I think he wondered though, if you were a possibility.”
I can’t process what I’m hearing. Three hundred thousand. Would’ve left more.
“But, Marie is gone,” Margaret says through her tears. “What does this mean to Harlow?”
“It’s very simple. As the executor of the trust, I handle where the money goes and to whom. The money he left for your mother, Harlow, will be transferred to an account of your choosing.”
“Wait, you are giving me three hundred thousand dollars? Like, today?” I turn to Sin and he nods, a soft smile on his handsome face. Now my tears are not from pain of Andrea’s words, more from overwhelming disbelief.
“Sin, this means I can afford college.” He gets up out of the chair and brings me to my feet. I collapse in his arms as he embraces me.
“It does. Yes, it does,” he says in the sweetest voice, while holding me tight. “Maybe even to a school in say, New York City.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sin
Harlow and I are having lunch with Margaret at a restaurant in downtown Park Ridge. Nothing too fancy; I’m saving that for tonight with Harlow. I leave for New York in the morning, so I made reservations for the restaurant on the ninety-fifth floor of the John Hancock building. I bought her a sexy red dress yesterday for her to wear tonight and lick my lips remembering how fucking awesome it falls over her curves.
I start med school in five days. I need to get back home to prep and inspect my apartment. Bentley swears the place looks like he never lived there. Hell, it doesn’t matter if he trashed every room. He helped me when I needed him, so he gets a free pass for life. Though, I’ll keep that fact to myself.
Harlow has been forcing a smile all day and she can’t seem to sit still, which usually means she’s nervous, or worried—maybe both. I can’t seem to stop her from fearing we will never see each other again, but I’m going to try.
My goal today is convincing her I’m hers for as long as she’ll have me. I’ve moved from the “in like” stage to the other “L” word and it doesn’t scare me one damn bit.
Henry, my wise doorman, nailed it when he told me I’d know when I was in love. I’m not afraid of a commitment with Harlow,
because the thought of living without her in my life terrifies me. I’m addicted to her smile and touch. She’s my fix.
“What do you all have planned for the rest of the day?” Margaret asks as I pay our bill.
“Sin and I are going to pick up my new car.” Harlow’s eyes light up in total joy. “Can you tell I’m excited?”
We all laugh. “You deserve it, honey,” Margaret says with a kind smile.
“She deserved something fancier,” I say, putting in my two cents on the topic.
“All I needed was something reliable.”
I wanted her driving in a more luxurious vehicle, or at least one with leather seats and a GPS. But Harlow wouldn’t hear of spending money on it or letting me help her. I backed off and let her take ownership of the decision. She ended up buying a used Chevy Malibu with sixty thousand miles in her favorite color, blue.
“If it breaks down, I’m buying you something else.” She opens her mouth and closes it. She wants to protest, but I wink and she shakes her head, grinning.
***
Harlow is driving behind me in her new Malibu. She had tears rolling down her smiling face when the salesman handed her the keys. I’m very thankful her birth father’s estate gave her the money without question. Thomas’ widow could’ve denied the disbursement without proper proof, but in the end, she did right by Harlow, the innocent victim of a selfish man.
Margaret has been the nurturing force Harlow needs in her life, filling the gaping hole in her heart caused by her mother’s death. Her grandmother insisted Harlow see a therapist the week we arrived, and Harlow agreed.
So, for the last few weeks, Harlow has gone almost daily to counseling sessions. I’m joining her session today, as I did one last week. Becca, her therapist, calls it couple’s therapy. I call it making Harlow whole.
We arrive at the office, not too far from Park Ridge, and Becca comes out to greet us in the reception area. “Harlow and Sin.” She has a serene smile on her face. The woman exudes peace, a perfectly matched choice for Harlow. “How are you two today?”
“Well, Sin leaves tomorrow for New York, so you can imagine how I feel.” Harlow frowns and her shoulders drop with a sigh. It breaks me to see her sad. I know it’s temporary, but I hate to leave her—hell, I’m going to be lost without her.
“We’ll talk about it and your plans today.” Becca leads us to her office, which has a wall of windows with streaming sunlight. The room fits her disposition, warm and inviting.
Harlow and I sit together on a leather couch. Becca finds a spot in a covered chair across from us.
“Thanks for coming, Sin. It’s good we are meeting together one more time before you head back for school.” Becca looks down, referring to the notes on her legal pad. “Last week we talked about Harlow’s move to New York this fall and trying to locate a college in the city, how are those going?”
“Well, I have applied to Brooklyn College for classes starting in January. They have a rolling admission and also a creative writing degree. But I can take classes as a non-degree student this fall. Those classes will transfer to my degree, if I am accepted.”
“So, you are thinking about moving there this fall,” Becca restates, while writing notes on her pad.
“I am.” Harlow fidgets in her seat. Nerves.
“How do you feel about it? New York is a far cry from Rochester and even Chicago. How do you feel about New York?” Becca leans forward, waiting for Harlow’s reply.
“I’m afraid,” Harlow admits, and it’s the first time she’s mentioned it aloud. I take her hand in mine.
“I’ll be there to help you get settled in. You can have Emma come visit too.” I try to encourage her. I’ll be there every step of the way.
Harlow turns to look at me. “You don’t understand. Going to New York doesn’t scare me. Having you go back without me does. You’ll be around women who have their lives together, educated—everything I’m not.”
I shake my head. Sweet Harlow. She has no idea. “You are everything they’re not. And that’s why I love you.”
Harlow gasps and her eyes grow wide. “You do?”
“Totally.” Harlow springs from her spot and sits on my lap. Her joy and enthusiasm make me smile. She’s such a contrast to the woman I met weeks ago.
“I love you so much, Sin.” She wraps her arms around my neck. “Your love has saved me.”
Harlow moves in to kiss me, when a throat clears in the background. Our therapist. Shit.
I pull away from her embrace and make eye contact with Harlow. “We have an audience, babe.” Once I have Harlow’s attention, I nod my head toward Becca.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Becca.” Harlow moves off my lap in a rush of giggles and scoots beside me again on the couch.
“I was about to leave the room, but I remembered, it’s my office,” Becca says with a laugh and a wink. “I’m thrilled for you two.”
“Thanks.” I put my arm around Harlow’s shoulders and bring her closer to my side. She fits so perfectly tucked away there.
“I don’t want to burst your love bubble, but I would like to talk about when Harlow comes to New York this fall. Where were you planning on living?” Becca asks.
“Sin and I have talked about it. He’s offered to let me live with him.” Harlow waits for Becca’s reply, and I’m curious too.
“You’ve never lived alone before, correct?” Harlow nods. “I think you should. Maybe stay with Sin until you get your bearings, then rent a place for six months, even a year. Find an apartment close to Sin’s, but please, not in the same building,” Becca says with a grin.
“I guess.” Harlow doesn’t sound convinced.
“It’s only a recommendation. We can discuss it later. You don’t need to make a decision today or tomorrow. Just think about it.”
“I will,” Harlow agrees, and Becca brings up a good point. I grew up hard and fast in Manhattan as a child, and Rochester is a world away from Manhattan.
“Harlow, would you mind if I spoke with Sin for a few minutes?” I raise my brows at the unexpected request. I’m fine with it, just surprised.
“Sure, I’ll be in the waiting room.” Harlow rises from the couch and gives me a soft kiss on the lips.
As she turns the doorknob, she glances at me, hesitating. I smile, signaling I’m fine, and she smiles back, but hers fades before she exits.
Once the door clicks, Becca’s lips press together. Gone are her smiles and kind eyes. The atmosphere in the room has transformed. It’s not frigid, more like lukewarm, definitely not as welcoming as when I first sat down.
“During our last visit, Harlow gave me permission to discuss her concerns with you. Though I’m not sure she thought I’d be doing it alone, here we are.” Becca crosses her legs and sets her legal pad down on a side table. “This is off the record, okay?”
“Okay,” I answer back.
“You seem like a nice young man who genuinely cares for Harlow.”
“I more than care for her. I love her,” I interject.
“I understand. But I’m curious. How many other women have you dated?” I watch my ship sink after she asks this question. I’m in trouble.
“Honestly?” I ask, wondering if she really wants to know.
“Please.” Becca taps her fingers on her armrest and I swallow, hard.
“I saw one woman during college. We were more friends, but we were exclusive.” At least, I was. Though, I have no reason to believe Rachel slept around when we were together.
“So, this relationship with Harlow is a first for you.” I wonder if she was an attorney in another life. She’s giving me one hell of a cross-examination.
“Yes,” I answer, and prepare for more.
“I appreciate your honesty. A player tends to hide his ways. Mostly because he doesn’t see them. Some call that narcissism, I call it selfishness. You passed that test.”
“I haven’t been a saint, but I love this woman. There is something different about her. I felt it the f
irst time our eyes met. I didn’t even know she was my uncle’s fiancée at the time.”
“Your uncle, James,” Becca spits out his name, “what he did to this sweet young woman …” She shakes her head in disgust. “I am thankful you rescued her, but I don’t want to have her heart trampled on again.”
Now we are getting to the real reason Harlow left the room. She wants to know my true intentions. “I want to protect her heart from pain. The thought of anything else makes me sick.”
“Any plans to have sex with her before you leave?” Becca brings up the battle I’ve been having. Should we?
“I want to, but only if it’s right for her,” I answer.
“Hmm. She tells me the same. You two are consenting adults, but I want you to promise me you’ll keep it in your pants if you have even the smallest doubt about continuing this relationship beyond leaving here. Can you promise me this?”
Becca stares at me without blinking. It’s a serious as shit look, and it’s rather frightening to see this amicable woman turn into such a mother bear. But she’s right. Harlow deserves a man who will guard her heart and love her beyond all. I just need to convince Becca I’m that man.
“Yes,” I say without an ounce of hesitation, “you have my word.”
“I hope you’re right. If not, I’ll have to kill you.” Becca winks at me, and I exhale. I survived her inquisition. I hope.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sin
A line has formed for the lone elevator taking patrons to the ninety-fifth floor where the Signature Room sits atop the John Hancock building, Chicago’s skyline trademark. Harlow and I stand, hand in hand, waiting for our turn.
I place my hand on the small of Harlow’s back as we walk inside the elevator to begin the long climb up. The man operating the elevator gives Harlow more than a once over and I want to stand in front of him to block his view.
When Harlow walked out of the bathroom in her new red dress and tall heels, I knew she would be trouble tonight. The dress shows off her long legs and a small waist that dips to curvy hips. It also exposes more of her breasts than anything she’s worn around me. She stuns me.
