by Laura Burton
“Did someone slash the tires of your limo?” Julie gasped. As if nature intended to add dramatic effect, a flash of lightning lit up the dark sky and a low rumble followed shortly after. Harry’s eyes were like two tiny slits as he studied the paper in his hand. “What is it, Harry? What’s that writing?”
Harry swallowed and looked at Julie as if he had seen a ghost; he then turned the paper so she could read the words scribbled with messy handwriting.
You think you can have her? Over my dead body.
Chapter Ten
Suspicious Intentions
“Is that a threat?” Julie’s question and accompanying wide eyes told Harry everything he needed to know.
Julie knew nothing about the first note.
Whoever was sending these clearly had a problem with Harry dating Julie, and the person had not been threatening her specifically. How anyone was able to slash the tires with Benjamin’s whole team within the vicinity was beyond his comprehension. He shot Benjamin a look before turning back to Julie, who stood frozen in the doorway.
“I’m very sorry to ask, but seeing as there is no sign of this rain letting up anytime soon… can I come in?”
Julie blinked at him like he was speaking a foreign language, and her face paled. He wasn’t sure why his question was being met with stunned silence, especially after he’d already done a crazy off-the-cuff proposal and suggested a last-minute trip to England. But for whatever reason, allowing Harry inside to keep out of the rain seemed to stun her.
“Or, we could just stand in the lobby while I wait for the tire to be changed. If that makes you feel more comfortable.”
Julie stepped inside and nodded, apparently lost in her own thoughts. Harry handed the umbrella to Benjamin. “See if you can help Thomas. The last thing we need is a driver with the flu.”
Benjamin eyed Harry shrewdly as he took the umbrella, and after a moment, nodded in resignation. Harry knew that a lecture was forming. He no doubt would become subjected to it later.
“Harry, look at me.” Julie’s alarmed voice was like an iron fist squeezing his heart. This was the very reason why he didn’t mention the first note. Harry looked at Julie; her face was resolute, but her amber eyes gave her fear away.
“Why do you not seem surprised by this?”
Harry bit his lip as he deliberated whether to tell Julie the truth. It would only worry her more, but looking at her expectant face caused his heart to ache. She deserved to know. Besides, he was a terrible liar.
“This is not the first threat I’ve received,” he said grimly.
Julie gawped at him. “What do you mean?” She looked him up and down, as if suspecting Harry might have more threatening letters on his person.
Harry tried to sound calm and grounded as he told Julie about the note he received after their first date. He tried to convince her that he had everything under control and there was no need to overreact, but Julie was having none of it. She drummed her fingernails against her hip as she paced the hall.
“How do you know they’re talking about me?”
Harry resisted the urge to laugh.
“Well, I don’t see any other ladies around me.”
Julie folded her arms and stuck her hip out to the side. Her bottom lip protruded—sensually—and Harry momentarily forgot what they were talking about. Her hair was falling out of its bun, and he couldn’t get the image of removing her hair clip and watching a cascade of curls fall down to her waist. The thought made his mouth dry.
“I’m just a seamstress. A nobody.”
Julie’s words struck a chord in Harry. His eyes smarted and he blinked in disbelief.
“How could you say that?” He took a step and grasped her hands. She was not a nobody.
“You know what I mean. I’m not rich and famous. I’m no threat to anyone.” She tilted her head and blinked up at Harry with a look of seriousness. Harry softened his gaze and slid his hand through her hair to rest at the back of her head. The touch made Julie close her eyes as she leaned into his hand.
“Sir, the car is ready.”
Harry jumped back and Julie’s eyes shot open as if Benjamin’s return had broken a spell.
“Right.” Harry patted his legs and looked from Benjamin’s disapproving face to Julie’s look of worry. “Now, you’re not going to freak out about this, are you?” he asked Julie, pointing to her.
“Only if you don’t,” she quipped back, folding her arms again. “Besides, now is your chance to––”
A loud ringtone interrupted their conversation. Harry apologized and took his phone out of his pocket.
“Sorry, hang on.” He took the call. “Mother, everything all right?”
“I wanted to make certain you were coming to brunch on Saturday. I have Oliver making all the arrangements.” Harry glanced at Julie, who was studying her fingernails, as if to give the impression she was not listening in on the conversation. Even though he had not put the phone on speaker, his mother’s loud voice barked at his ear.
“Yes, I’ll be there.”
“Good, and are you still bringing… what is her name again?”
“Julie,” Harry said quickly. Julie’s eyes flickered up to meet his before she blinked away and studied the notice board on the wall.
“Ah, yes, Julie. Is she still your date?” Harry couldn’t decipher his mother’s tone. He eyed Julie as he weighed his options. They would need extra security, he figured, and Benjamin would need to investigate the letters and now the damage to his car. For all he knew, Julie was in danger, and until they found out more about this mystery threat, it would be best to keep her close by.
“Yes, Julie will be with me.”
Harry’s mother hummed like a purring cat before she spoke. “Marvelous. Well, Gordan and I are looking forward to seeing you and meeting your… Julie.”
Harry ended the call and Julie looked up at him expectantly.
“Do you have any crazy ex-boyfriends I should know about?”
Julie dropped her hands from her hips and gave Harry a hard look. It were as if he had just uttered an insult. Benjamin cleared his throat.
“I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow?” Harry motioned to take Julie’s hand, but she took a step back and bit her lip, her face wracked with worry. Just minutes ago, they were making out in the back of the car like a pair of teenagers, and not an hour before that, he asked her to marry him. Now she was flinching away from his touch. Harry set his jaw and gave her a nod instead, then he turned on the spot and followed Benjamin out into the rain, still hoping he had a fiancé.
Harry sat at his desk with his head in his hands. It was not the first time someone tried to sabotage his happiness. When he and Ebony were together, an influx of threatening text messages came rolling in. Her over-bearing big brother Martin never liked Harry.
“My little sister doesn’t need to be with a wet blanket,” he sneered, his bulbous nose dripping with perspiration, and the veins in his neck bulging after an intense boxing session. Ebony thought it would be cute to have her boyfriend and brother bond over working out at the gym. But it was more like a weekly torture session, where Martin took the opportunity to pick at Harry’s character, tearing him to shreds. The look of sheer delight on his face was forever burned in Harry’s memory when the news broke that Ebony had been seeing Phillipe on the side.
“Now he’s a guy who can carry his own,” he said with approval. Harry was not raised to be an alpha male. He loathed to see the jerks roam around college on the prowl, looking to treat unsuspecting ladies like dirt. Yet, somehow, the sensitive and genuine guys—like Harry—never ended up with the girl.
Even in the real world, long after graduating, Harry discovered it was still like the animal kingdom—a hierarchy among men. Who got the girl. Who landed the promotion. Who claimed the last parking space.
Being a billionaire producer only helped in the sense that Harry had been able to hire a whole team of professionals to keep him safe—and their “leaks”
about Harry’s tough character garnered him respect.
Yet, conceited actors often made ridiculous demands that he knew his fellow producers would not put up with. Christian Bones had been blacklisted by every director and producer in the business, and Harry was the only person willing to take him on. Christian refused to show up to set if his mocha double latte was not piping hot or if his lucky cap had gone missing, but Harry knew a lot of actors were superstitious, so he postponed shooting for an entire week while they searched everywhere for Christian’s Yankees cap. It turned out Christian wanted an excuse to visit a girlfriend in Maine. The cap mysteriously reappeared on his return.
Harry rubbed his temples and grimaced at the memory.
Why am I such a pushover?
It wasn’t like he wasn’t warned. His advisors and coworkers had told him to expect Christian to pull a stunt. But when it happened, he refused to see if for what it was. His biological father was the same way. He raised Harry to always assume people had good intentions. Be the nice guy. The sensitive, caring guy.
Harry pushed against the mahogany desk and sat back in his recliner chair.
And look where that got you, Dad. Your wife had an affair, took half your wealth, and ran off to England with another man.
The papers said Harry’s father died of a broken heart. Harry wondered if that were true. Or maybe he had been too soft for this cruel and harsh world.
Someone was trying to threaten Harry into submission, only this time it wasn’t a conceited actor, but someone willing to carry out a threat. He had no idea who this new adversary was, and his instincts told him to back away, leave Julie and find a nice, simple relationship. The note was troubling, but slashed tires took the threat to a new level. He considered how much the situation could escalate. Was she really worth the hassle?
The image of Julie standing in her gown, nipped in at the waist and hugging every curvature of her body, appeared in his mind’s eye. Her delicate hands clasped together and bottom lip protruding, her pretty face framed with white-blonde curls hanging down her spine, her two big amber eyes glowing, the image warmed his heart and quieted his worries, and a sense of peace and calm stirred his soul. There was something about her that made Harry… different. She made him want to try and be a better, stronger person.
He rose to his feet in the empty office of his downtown apartment. The only light in the room came from the streetlamps outside.
“I’m going to take her to England,” he said firmly, staring at the grandfather clock on the wall. “And, I’m going to marry her.” He grinned to himself. A rising fire burning from within his chest. Just then, the door swung open and a flood of light filled the room, blinding Harry.
“Sir, permission to speak candidly.” Benjamin stood in the doorway framed in the light. Harry’s shoulders slumped as he made eye contact with him.
“All right, Benjamin, what is it?”
“I respectfully advise that you do not see Julie Andrews again, at least until we have ascertained the culprit of these recent… events.”
Harry heaved a big sigh and lowered to his chair once more. He tapped the desk lamp and it lit up the desk. A soft yellow glow illuminated the lower half of Benjamin’s face. His mouth a perfect straight yet very tight line.
“I’m not scared of some silly notes and a kid pulling a stunt.” Harry mustered his best casual smile, but Benjamin merely looked back, his face set.
“Do you have any idea who could be behind this?” his head of security asked. Harry rubbed his chin in thought.
“It’s got to be someone linked to Julie, an ex-boyfriend perhaps? I’m hoping you can figure it out?”
To Harry, whoever was behind the threats was either clever or old school. Handwritten notes given by random people and a kid to slash the tires of the car—there was no paper trail to follow. If it had been text messages, it would have been easier to trace, or if the guy faced Harry himself.
“I’m guessing you are going ahead as planned, then.” Harry detected a slight tone of defeat.
“I love her,” he said fervently.
“Sir, forgive me… but you’re infatuated with her. Love is quite different.”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t care what you call it. I’m not leaving her. We’re supposed to be together.”
The corner of Benjamin’s mouth twitched. “Do you think it’s wise to talk about marriage so soon? It has only been––”
Harry rose to his feet and clenched his fists.
“I know what you’re thinking. I know how it looks. But I can’t help the way I feel.”
“I understand, sir,” Benjamin said carefully. “I am merely considering Julie’s feelings. You don’t want to scare her off, do you?”
Harry faltered.
“Do you think she thinks I’ve come on too strong?”
Benjamin raised his hands and shrugged. “I’m just saying, people don’t usually ask someone to marry them on their second date.”
Heat rose to Harry’s forehead. He rubbed the back of his neck and paced the room.
“I don’t know what happened. It was like I wasn’t in my body and I just—”
“Got carried away, sir?”
Harry stopped pacing and slumped his shoulders. He stood less than two feet away from Benjamin and looked at him square in the eye.
“All right. I’m listening. Tell me what to do.”
Chapter Eleven
Foolish Lovers
“Are you crazy?” Emily burst out with her hands on her hips. She stared at Julie like she just announced that she was moving to Mars.
It was the next morning, and Emily had brought over breakfast, clearly as an excuse to catch up on the gossip. Harry had declined the other dates Emily planned and settled the invoice. Now that he no longer wanted to be contacted through her agency, Julie was her only source of information. And the mystery was clearly killing her friend.
Julie wondered whether to let Emily know about the events of the previous night. She gave a play-by-play on the photoshoot; how it went at the opera, how beautiful the orchestra played, the stirring songbird voices, and the heart-pounding tension between her and Harry.
She casually mentioned Harry’s proposal when Emily exploded.
“Look, I know I set you two up, but Julie… you’ve only been on a couple of dates.” She strutted around the room with her hands in the air.
Julie bit her lip. She hadn’t even reached the truly worrying part of the story. How would Emily react when she learned that someone was actively threatening Harry, even vandalizing his car to keep him away from her.
Emily eyed her with scrutiny before she continued. “I’m all for romance. You know that. But it must have been a joke, right?”
“Why would he joke about it?”
“Why would he ask a stranger to marry him?” Emily shot back. Julie cast her eyes to the carpeted floor and chewed her lip. Emily didn’t understand. Of course, she didn’t.
That’s just it… we’re not strangers.
She considered telling Emily that they were old souls. Because that’s exactly how it felt. A couple of old friends reunited after many years; although, there was nothing platonic about their friendship. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of Harry grasping her back when they fooled around in the back of the limo.
“Did something happen between you two? You’re blushing.”
Startled, Julie blinked up at Emily and tried to shrug it off. “I’m not blushing.”
“Then why is your face red?”
“I’m sick,” Julie said.
Sick of this conversation.
“So, how did you leave it? Are you going to this charity event? Did you find out where––”
“London,” Julie cut in. Emily stopped pacing the room and stared at Julie with surprise.
Emily Stewart had perfect brows. Expertly shaped and extremely expressive. Julie often marveled at how they appeared to move independently of each other. Today, they danced through all sorts of pos
itions as she internalized this news.
“Are you flying together? Probably in a private jet, no less.” She flicked her hair back and arched her back as she looked up at the ceiling, as if expecting to see through the top of the building and spot Harry’s private plane.
“So, he’s taking you to England.” She rested her chin on her hand as she paced the room again. Julie could almost see her mind racing with thoughts. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised he’s fond of you. I mean, I am the highest-paid matchmaker in New York for a reason.” She smiled to herself. “But I don’t like how serious this is getting. As your best friend, it’s my duty to let you know when you’re making foolish choices.”
Julie sighed.
“I know.” She studied her fingernails to buy herself time to think of a proper response. Emily was right. They were moving too fast. Or maybe they weren’t, and the proposal was a joke. Maybe she’d made their relationship out to be far more serious than it really was. Her thoughts turned to the threats. Who they were coming from? Were she and Harry better off calling it a day and going their separate ways? She needed someone to talk to about it, someone to help her work out her options.
Resolved, Julie took a deep breath and looked up from her nails to Emily’s expectant face. “That’s not all… Emily, I need to tell you something.”
Julie slumped back in her chair and rolled her head from side to side as she rubbed the back of her neck. The steady hum of the sewing machines in the hall was so loud she wasn’t sure if her ears were actually ringing.
The simple clock hanging up at the top of the hall looked sterile in the room. Eight minutes until she could go home—or until she finished the hem on the skirt she had been working on all day. There were about ninety workers sitting at their own machines, in rows silently getting on with their work. The tiny windows let in very little sunlight, which did not offer the best lighting for Julie’s work. The department was tucked away in the basement; Estelle’s dirty secret. This was not Project Runway.
