think I’m an asshole. But, no.”
She shrugged. Didn’t she believe me? Fuck. This was why lines were better when they were clearly drawn—when business was business and fucking was fucking. I shouldn’t have come here.
“Don’t come to lunch.” I reached for the door. “The shoes weren’t anything to do with work. I bought them before my call with your father.” And my desire for her was nothing to do with Charles Jayne. She conjured that up all by herself.
Jesus, I should never have bought the shoes. Should never have come here. I stepped out of her apartment
“Max,” she said and I didn’t respond, letting the door shut behind me.
Chapter 11
Harper
I stood by Donna’s desk, shoulders back, ready for war.
It was eleven fifty. We needed to leave now if we were sure to be in Midtown on time for lunch with my father, but Max wasn’t in his office.
I hadn’t spoken to Max since he left my apartment. I’d expected Donna to send me a meeting request or to be summoned into Max’s office and told that me going to lunch with my father and Max was for the good of the team. The thing was I was happy to do it. Okay, not happy, but I was prepared to lunch with my father. I wanted to be seen on the winning team. Lunch could only help my goal if it meant we were more likely to be successful in our pitch.
I wore a navy dress, just above the knee with a scoop neck, and a matching, collarless jacket I’d had tailored to nip in at the waist. It was my lucky interview suit—and as close to Prada as I could afford.
“Donna, I need to leave,” Max said as he swept past me and into his office. Donna followed him and set the file she was carrying down on her desk.
Max appeared in his doorway. “Harper,” he said, fiddling with the collar on his navy jacket. I wanted to step forward and smooth my fingers over the fabric. He looked good. He always looked good.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
He just nodded and we headed to the elevators.
“Good luck,” Donna called after us.
We stood, silently waiting for the elevators, surrounded by employees of King & Associates.
I should also thank him for the shoes. He probably thought I’d been ungrateful but that wasn’t it. The present had taken me off guard and brought back memories of the extravagant gifts my father used to send me as a child to try to make up for the fact he’d forgotten my birthday or hadn’t turned up to visit me when he said he would.
Perhaps it was unwrapping the beautiful Jimmy Choo’s that changed my mind but as I thought about it, it occurred to me perhaps Max just didn’t get how his timing had sucked. The gift had been a thank you rather than a bribe. He probably hadn’t realized he’d looked as if he was trying to manipulate me with gifts and come-ons. With that realization came an understanding of some of his odd behavior on Saturday. I realized that for whatever reason, he was a little bit awkward with me. That clearly didn’t stop him trying to seduce me or fucking me as though it was his job. But outside of the seduction and the sex, he wasn’t so confident, so practiced.
As Max and I settled into the cab, which sped off uptown, we started to speak at the same time.
“I wanted to say sorry,” I said.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
We turned toward each other and he gave a small smile.
“The shoes were beautiful,” I said.
He looked away. “It was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have.” He dragged his hand through his hair and I gazed at his long fingers, knowing just how they felt all over my body.
“It was a really nice thing to do.”
“You just seemed to like the ones Amanda got on Saturday.”
I grinned. They were a higher, sparklier, sexier take on his daughter’s.
“And I know I take up too much of your time already. Giving up your weekend was—”
“No big deal.” I couldn’t exactly admit I’d assumed he was disinterested in his daughter and had wanted to save her from his apathy. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He clearly loved Amanda and she him. The King of Wall Street had a secret identity in Connecticut as a single father and family man.
We’d first touched, kissed, fucked when I’d only known him as a career driven, ruthless, arrogant egomaniac. And