have to tell Harper. Maybe I could just turn up to lunch on my own and say Harper had been caught up in the office or was sick.
But then Charles Jayne hadn’t founded a leading investment bank without the ability to smell bullshit a mile away. No. I’d have to confess to Harper what I’d done, and if she didn’t want to come to lunch, I’d have to cancel.
Jesus, why was this so fucking complicated? I’d done what I needed in order to win. If Harper and I hadn’t banged, would I be second guessing myself?
“Did you get it?” Donna asked as she burst through the door.
I nodded and leaned back in my chair. “Wednesday,” I said.
“Well, why don’t you look happier about it? Things are coming together just as you’d planned.”
I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Yeah, maybe.”
“What’s the matter with you? This is great news.” She closed the door.
Donna was right; this was what I’d been hoping for. What had been my ultimate goal just three weeks ago was now tarnished with the knowledge I’d gotten there by using Harper.
People said I was ruthless in business and that may be true, but I’d never been underhanded and I always tried to do the right thing. I wanted to be someone my daughter could admire and respect and emulate in some ways. I wanted her to be ambitious and driven. But my greatest wish was for her to grow up knowing what was important, that she became someone who understood integrity and hard work was the way to go. I didn’t want to raise a daughter who would sell her soul for a piece of corporate pie. And I’d worked hard not to be that guy. Had I just thrown that all away?
I’d always found the ethical boundaries were drawn quite distinctly on Wall Street, but today that line had become fuzzier and I wasn’t sure on which side of it I stood.
Instead of calling for an elevator when I got home after work, I took the stairs. Was I about to make a dick move by giving these shoes to Harper?
Quite possibly.
My shoes made clunking sounds against the metal steps, as if they were trying to call attention to my climb, which was the last thing I wanted. The white Jimmy Choo bag swung against my side. I’d spent about an hour in the Bleaker Street store before committing to the purchase that had made me late to work. I’d never a bought a woman outside of my family anything, ever. But since I’d seen the look of pure joy lighting up Harper’s face when she picked out Amanda’s shoes, I’d wanted to see that expression again. She’d been excited and bright and full of enthusiasm. And as the daughter of one of the richest men in New York, it was nice to see. She should have been used to luxury, but somehow she’d managed to make Amanda feel special.
I wanted her to feel the same way again.
The assistant at the store had been very patient with me. But I’d seen the pair I wanted as soon as I walked in. They were like an adult version of the pair I’d bought Amanda. The heel was higher and thinner and straps more intricate but they were covered in that glittery finish she and Amanda had gone wild over on Saturday.
I’d torn the buttons from her blouse so I owed her, didn’t I? Memories of revealing her full breasts when I’d ripped her blouse drifted into my head, and I tried to shake them off.
But I had more than one reason to buy her shoes. She’d found a dress for my daughter that reduced the chances of me going to jail for the murder of every fourteen-year-old boy who so much as looked at her. I had to thank her, and shoes were an appropriate gift.
As I reached her floor, I paused before opening the fire door. I could just leave them on her doorstep. I wanted her to have them more than I wanted to be the one to give them to her, to see that look of pleasure on her face. At least I hoped it would be pleasure. Buying an employee shoes wasn’t the actions of a boss—they had a touch of Vegas about them and I wasn’t sure how she’d react to that.
I needed to stop being such a pussy.
I knocked three times on her door and stretched out my hands, trying to resist