Chapter Fourteen
Harry
When I hear the footsteps moving toward my office, I can’t help but let a smirk reshape my mouth.
It was a stern line before, the same way it gets sometimes when I have to deal with these boring admin-type tasks. Sure, they’re not as thrilling as flying helicopters or climbing walls – especially when I’ve got Grace’s fine-as-hell body as motivation—but they’re still all necessary.
Now, though, I’m glad for a break, especially because I’m almost certain it’s Grace who’s come to give it to me.
I texted her earlier today, asking her to swing by the office, being careful to name a time when she and Gemma wouldn’t run into each other.
Be courageous, my horoscope told me this morning.You’ve been putting something off for too long. It’s time to bite the bullet. It’s time to do what you need to do.
I want to listen to it, but somehow I don’t think that right now is the best moment to break the news to Grace. Telling her that my sister is here, and, by the way, that my sister hates her, seems like a no-win scenario.
But as I listen to her footsteps get closer to the door, I know that pretty soon I’m going to have to tell her the truth.
Whatever’s developing between us, I feel like it’s going way past my revenge plan.
I stand up, arms behind my back, grinning like the wolf I am as I wait for Grace …
But then the door swings open.
For a moment, I stare at the tall woman, wondering when the hell Grace started wearing glasses.
Then I snap to my senses and watch as Gemma steps into the room, quickly closing the door behind her. Her hands are shaking slightly and her lips are twisted in anxiety. She turns back to me, pacing over to my desk.
“Okay, you lot need better security in this place,” she says.
“What?” I mutter, concern heavy in the question. “What’re you talking about? What happened?”
When Gemma left half an hour ago, I thought she was going to be gone for the night. Now, a frantic impulse burns at the back of my mind, roaring at me to get her out of here before Grace returns.
But even if I’ve become involved in this cloak-and-daggers stuff, I’m not about to kick my own sister out of my office.
“Gemma?” I say, as she walks up and down in front of the desk, wringing her hands. “Are you going to explain what’s going on here or not?”
“Some lady accosted me in the car park,” she mutters, letting out a heavy breath as she drops just as heavily onto the seat opposite me.
She grabs the edge of the desk and pulls herself forward on the wheels, resting her elbows on the oak surface.
“She had this crazy look in her eyes, Harry, like I’d done something to offend her. And she mentionedHarry Junior. Not Sebastian. ButHarry Junior. We’re the only ones who call him that. Even if people know his middle name, that’s our joke.”
“Slow down,” I say. My sister can have the habit of speaking a billion miles a second sometimes. “Just tell it to me from the beginning.”
I sit down, unable to stop my gaze from drifting to the window, squinting past the glaring sunlight to search for Grace.
It’s a low damn impulse, and that’s the iron-cold truth. I shouldn’t be worried about this sitcom-type shit when my sister is so clearly distraught.
But the idea of Grace and Gemma coming face to face is too volcanic to think about.
I just know there’d be an eruption.
“She seemed to be implying that we were a couple. Which is obviously disgusting. But where the hell did she even get that idea? I just don’t understand. If she was some random crazy lady off the street, why was she here, and how did she know Sebastian’s middle name? I only managed to drive away because she had to take a phone call.”
“Wait a second,” I mutter, temples pulsing almost painfully. The penny’s starting to drop now. But not just one. There’s a whole fucking army of pennies cascading in my mind. “Describe this woman to me.”
Gemma runs a hand through her jet-black hair, frowning. “Who cares what she looks like?”
