That Forever Girl Page 35
Sally stands and shakes my hand. “Mr. Knightly, you made my day. Your properties will shine on camera. Thank you for being so flexible.”
I stand as well. “It’s my pleasure. We’ll be in touch.” Once Sally is gone, I sit back down and adjust the sleeves of my shirt, pulling down on the cuffs before looking up at Harper; she’s staring at my hands, mesmerized. “My eyes are up here, Harp.”
Her face snaps up, her cheeks reddening. “Sorry.” She clears her throat. “Umm . . . so we’ll be working together . . . closely.”
I slowly nod. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”
“Oh no,” she says sarcastically, “it won’t be awkward at all.”
“It’ll only be awkward if we make it awkward.”
Studying me, she leans back in her chair and folds her arms over her chest. “So you’re just”—she waves her hand through the air—“fine with having to work with me. Just like that.”
I shrug. “Yeah, why not?”
“Why not?” Her eyes bulge. “Did you forget the fact that we not only used to date but were engaged? Or how about the little-known fact that you broke off that engagement like it meant nothing to you, or your proclamation to the town that you wanted nothing to do with me?”
“Minor details.” I smile wickedly.
“Oh no.” She wags her finger. “I don’t think so. I know what that smile is. That’s your I’m trying to charm someone for something smile. So what is it? What are you getting from Lovemark? Why can you suddenly stand to be in the same room as me?”
“I’m not getting anything from them.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine, then don’t believe me.” I pull out some contracts and lay them on the table along with my specifications for not changing anything in the houses. “Here’s what I told Lovemark about my—”
“So you’re just going to jump right into business? Am I the only one who’s having a hard time just falling into line here? You really think we’re going to work together?”
I fold my hands together and prop them between my legs. “Do you want this job with Lovemark?”
“Yes.”
“Does Lovemark want to use my properties?”
“Yes,” she answers, exasperated.
I click my pen and poise over the papers in front of me. “Then it looks like you’re going to be working closely with me.”
“Can’t your assistant do it? What’s her name? Jennifer?”
“Gina.”
She snaps her fingers. “That’s right, Gina. Can’t she do it?”
“No.”
Stunned, Harper stares at me, mouth slightly ajar. “No? Just like that? You won’t even consider it?”
“No. They are my properties, and with all the equipment being moved in and out of them, I would like to oversee that nothing gets harmed. Especially in the manor.”
“You don’t trust me to make sure everything is taken care of?”
“I trust you, but I don’t trust them. An extra pair of eyes, my eyes, on the property while they’re filming isn’t going to hurt.”
Letting that be the final word, I start signing the contracts Sally dropped off, my pen forcefully scrolling against the cream paper, Harper’s eyes trained on me the entire time. I can practically hear the inner workings of her brain, trying to understand her new working situation.
Finally, after the last paper is signed, she asks, “Why are you doing this, Rogan? Are you trying to hurt me?”
“Hurt you?” My brow creases in concern. “Why would you think that?”
She leans forward. “You know this is hard on me, seeing you here in town, being around your family, all the memories. This hasn’t been a good few weeks. I finally have something to look forward to, a job that interests me, and it feels like you’re taking that away from me.”
“I would never do that, Harper.”
“No? Well, you took away the most important thing in my life seven years ago. Why should I believe you won’t do it now?”
“Because I fucked up back then,” I answer honestly, shocking her. Hell, I shocked myself. Clearing my throat, I set the pen down. “I’m not doing this to hurt you or take anything away. I just . . . fuck, I miss you, Harp.” I bow my head, my heart pounding as the truth pours out of me. “I fucking miss you, and I know that what I did to us can never be fixed, but I can’t live in this town and ignore you. It’s impossible with the kind of history we have. So . . . I don’t know.” I adjust the collar of my shirt. “I was hoping that maybe we could be friends.”
“Friends?” Harper asks, her voice rising. “You want to be friends?” She throws her head back and laughs . . . hard.
Shit, not the kind of reaction I was hoping for. I was thinking more along the lines of Sure, that would be amazing. I’ve been wanting to be friends this whole time. I miss you too, Rogan.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, trying to stem my irritation at her guffaws.
Wiping under her eyes, she focuses back on me. “You want to be friends? Oh, that is just rich.” She wipes her eye again. “Good one, Rogan. God, I needed that laugh.”
“Why is it so goddamn funny? We can be friends.”
She shakes her head. “When exes say they can be friends, they’re full of shit. No one who has ever loved another person, and I mean truly loved them, can just be friends. It’s not possible, because no matter what, the breakup will always hang over their heads like a giant neon sign. No, never going to happen.”
“It can happen,” I say defensively. “Brig and Reid think we can be friends.”
That makes Harper’s entire face morph with humor. “You asked Brig and Reid about being friends with me? A romantic and a sarcastic ass? Of course they’re going to say we can be friends. Brig’s hoping we get back together, and Reid is setting you up for failure. Why didn’t you ask Griffin or Jen?”
“They weren’t available.”
“You’re ridiculous.” One of her long legs crosses over the other, drawing my attention for a brief second. God, when those legs used to clamp around my waist . . . “We can’t be friends.”
“We can,” I counter, tearing my eyes off her legs so I can look her in the eyes.
“Not going to happen, Rogan.”
“Well.” I stand and button my jacket. “I think you’ve forgotten how persuasive I can be.”
“Oh, please.” She looks up at me, and the little smirk on her lips is my saving grace. She may not believe I can earn her friendship, but I can see in her eyes that she’s looking forward to my attempt.
“Watch your back, Sanders. Before you know it, you’re going to be calling me up in the middle of the night to tell me about your period, just like old times.” With a wink, I stride out the front doors, but not before I hear her groan out loud.
I have her right where I want her.
“Morning,” I say, slapping a newspaper on the bar and patting Harper on the shoulder. “How’s my buddy this morning?”
Eve, who’s filling a glass of water, lets it overflow as she stares between Harper and me. “Um . . . what’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” Harper says, attempting to swat my hand away.
“Didn’t you see?” I ask, shocked. “It’s in the newspaper and everything.” I point to the obnoxious headline. “Harper and I are friends again.”
“What?” Eve and Harper ask at the same time, leaning over the paper.
Now, when I say I’m going to do something, I don’t just do it; I go all out. So after my conversation with Harper yesterday, I decided to start off this friendship journey on the right foot . . . by announcing it in the local newspaper. Though I use the term newspaper loosely—it’s essentially a gossip rag that focuses more on the locals than any actual news.
Want something to gossip about? Pick up the Port Snow Gazette; it will give you all the fodder you need. It was centered around Griffin and Ren for a while, but their couple news has died down, and the town needs something new to talk about. And I need all the help I can get. The more the locals congratulate me and Harper on our resurrected friendship, the better.
“What the hell is this?” Harper asks, lifting the paper. “High school sweethearts find friendship.” She points to the paper. “Our names are in this.”
“That’s the point. Announcing our friendship in the paper is the perfect way to start this new journey.”
“Are you insane?” Harper puts down the paper, which Eve picks back up.
“Rogan Knightly and Harper Sanders, longtime lovers, now best friends, have taken Port Snow by storm with their love and respect for one another. Here’s to their journey to being best friends.” Eve looks up. “What the hell is this crap? You’re friends with him?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
We speak at the same time.
“Ah, come on, Harp, admit it—we’re friends.” I raise my eyebrows.
She palms my face. “You’re delusional.”
And with that she takes off toward the kitchen, but not before I snag her wrist and pull her back, Eve’s gaze never leaving us. “Where are you going? I have something for you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Sure do.” From my pocket, I pull out a braided bracelet I paid my niece to make for me. “It’s a friendship bracelet.” I hold up Harper’s arm and secure it around her wrist and then show off my wrist as well. “See, we both have them.”