Billionaire Undercover - J. S. Scott Page 0,91

some unknown reason, I’m still getting paid by your company, and that needs to stop. I resigned, Mr. Montgomery.”

I grinned. “Yes, and we refused to accept your resignation, so you’re technically on a paid leave. You have way too many important research projects in the lab to just…leave.”

“I gave my resignation to the lab director weeks ago. I don’t want to go back to Montgomery Mining,” she retorted sharply.

“Look, I know you’ve been through hell, but you might feel differently in a few months. What’s the harm of staying on the payroll right now,” I said as persuasively as possible.

Honestly, Harlow didn’t look like she was in a position to decide much of anything, and that bothered me worse than it probably should.

I barely knew Dr. Harlow Lewis, but I’d seen her in action in our lab enough times to recognize that she definitely wasn’t herself right now.

Okay, maybe I had asked her to have dinner with me two years ago, and she’d laughed in my face and turned me down flat, but it wasn’t like I’d held a grudge.

Not really.

Well, okay, maybe a little.

Truth was, she was the first and only woman who had ever turned me down.

I was Jaxton Montgomery, billionaire co-CEO of Montgomery Mining, the largest mining company in the world. So yeah, I didn’t get many women who laughed in my face and blew me off.

Actually, there had just been one.

Her.

Harlow intrigued me from the moment I’d met her a couple of years ago. She was a gorgeous blonde bombshell who also happened to be a brilliant scientist in our laboratory.

I had to admit she’d had a point when she laughed and told me that the last thing she wanted was to be my one-nighter, and then end up being hounded by the press for the next several weeks after a single date.

No, thanks.

Have a nice day.

Goodbye, Mr. Montgomery.

It wasn’t like I could have assured her that she wouldn’t be a one-night woman, because I was, after all, the king of one-and-done.

I was the master of never dating a woman more than once.

Unfortunately, the price I paid for that habit was being hounded by reporters every time I had a new woman on my arm.

She finally answered, “The problem is, you’re paying me for a job that I can’t come back to…ever. My bad decision-making led to the death of a colleague and someone I cared about, and the hostage situation nearly killed my own intern.”

“Harlow, that wasn’t your—”

“Don’t say it!” she warned. “Do you really think I don’t know what happened to Taylor, Mr. Montgomery? How am I supposed to live with that?”

Taylor Delaney, Harlow’s intern and friend, was now the love of my eldest brother Hudson’s life. “Have you actually asked Taylor what happened? She’s doing fine, Harlow. You’ve talked to her. She’s healthy, she’s moved on, and she and Hudson are almost nauseatingly happy.”

“She won’t discuss it with me, or admit that she was sexually assaulted every night, but I’m not an idiot. Maybe I wasn’t in my right mind at the time, but how am I supposed to live with that, or Mark’s death.”

Harlow looked haunted. She still looked beautiful, but she had dark circles under her eyes, and the woman was always immaculately groomed. Maybe she looked different because I’d never seen her dressed so casually. She was in cut-off denim shorts and a T-shirt, but I didn’t think it was her attire. It was more about the defeat that seemed to be hanging over her head like a dark cloud. Physically, she’d healed, but emotionally, she was obviously still struggling.

“Last Hope sent you a counselor,” I reminded her.

“They didn’t rescue me. You paid my ransom and I was released, remember?” she said drily. “But I’m seeing someone on my own. And yes, I know I can never tell anyone about Last Hope. Marshall and I had the talk.” Her hands made air quotes.

“No, we only had to rescue Taylor, but once you knew about Last Hope, you were under our protection until you’re physically and emotionally ready to tackle the world on your own. That’s one of the reasons I’m here, Harlow. Marshall made me your assigned advisor. I want to make sure that you’re okay, and I’d like to check in with you once a week, more often if you need it.” I wasn’t about to reveal that I’d actually volunteered to do follow-up with Harlow. Maybe because I didn’t really understand why I’d offered in the first place.

Harlow