It’s late in the day, but Erik is manning the phone at the bakery and takes my last minute order for Harper’s birthday cake. Even though Josie wasn’t specific, I order a chocolate cake because I know Harper will like it.
The card’s easy but the eReader isn’t. This late, I’d have to pay overnight shipping to get it in time. Or go to a mall.
I call Josie. “Hey. Why can’t you just get her some books from the store?”
“Because I want to get her an ereader. Then she can download whatever she wants.”
“You don’t have those in stock?”
“No, doofus. I run a bookstore. Electronic devices are the competition. I mean, I have cases, but I don’t carry the electronics. Never mind. I’ll go buy one after I close the store.”
“I’m getting it.” I grab my keys and grimace. Shopping.
An hour later, I’m stuck in rush hour traffic, trying to find a bookstore not as antiquated as Dog Ears or an electronics store. It gives me too much time to think—about how Harper still hasn’t explained the whole husband drama on the postcard.
It actually has kick-ass potential as a blog post. Harper’s postcard. Monogamy. The human dilemma. What makes some accept this tradition while others embrace multiple partners. It’s what my advertisers pay for—sensationalism.
But I’d never post it. She put too many names in for it to be anonymous. I don’t know what she was thinking or wasn’t thinking.
The irony of our common experiences, our distrust of each other, isn’t lost on me. She had husband who conned her. Married her. Or maybe didn’t actually marry her. I don’t even know if her marriage was legal.
I had a woman who told me she loved me with an intensity that left me a believer, but failed to tell me about her husband.
Finally, I arrive at the store and grab an iPad with wifi. It’s more than Josie sent me to buy, but I pay the difference. It’ll give Harper a way to watch movies if she doesn’t feel like reading.
In the parking lot, my cell rings and it’s Gunner. I answer with one hand and open my car door. “Hey man. What’s up?”
“How are you?”
“Good. Out running errands. Can I give you a call back?”
“Dane thought I should call you. He can’t get away. He’s tending bar. Your ex, Tori, is here at his place.”
“Yeah? I don’t care.” I start the engine.
“She says she’s going to see Harper and teach her a lesson. I guess she doesn’t realize that Dane will tell you everything she says.”
“Is she still there?”
“I’m at the end of the bar and I can still hear her talking. Anyway, Dane thought you should know and maybe warn Harper not to open her door to any…”
“Any what?” I can’t think straight I’m so angry.
“I quote here, lethal bitch like Tori.”
“Will do. Thanks.” I grimace and wonder if Dane’s opinion of Tori is a brotherhood thing or if he felt this way the entire time I dated her. It doesn’t matter.
I should’ve made it clear to Tori that Harper and I aren’t dating. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about Harper. Tori would back off.
It seems like an eternity before I pull into the lot behind our building. Harper’s lights are dim. The wreck totaled her truck, leaving her without a vehicle, so I knew she’d be at home. There’s the glow of a lamp that shows through her windows and I wonder what she’s doing. Reading? I wrack my brain trying to remember if she still has any of my books.
When I make it to my door, I pause and listen as if I can hear through walls. The silence is eerie. Be a man. We can be friends and I can take the first step. One step for all dudes everywhere who want to be friends after it’s over.
I peck softly on her door. “Harper? It’s me.”
Silence weighs heavy as lead in the air between me and the door. She’s on the other side of it, ignoring me or cursing me. I know it.
“Harper. I know you’re in there. I thought you might want to…Hey, you want to borrow a book?”
Lame, lame, lame. What I really want is to see her face. See her curl up on my sofa with her feet tucked underneath her while she watches television. Talk with her about nothing in particular.
I lean against the wall of the hallway, checking my phone for email and browsing the internet so she can have the chance to change her mind and open the door.
Tori’s pissed and could show up. She’s not quite right in the head at the moment.
The outside door to the building doesn’t have a lock. I haven’t worried about this fact in the past, but it looks like an open invitation to every psycho who might want to harm Harper. Inside my apartment, I find a bungee cord that will work to rig the door closed from the inside.
I use the cord to secure the door to a barbell from my place. It looks like a seventh grade booby trap, but I’ll have the landlords do something about installing a real lock. I keep thinking she’ll be curious with all the banging around and investigate and I’m disappointed when she doesn’t.
If anything happened to Harper because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Tomorrow, I’ll convince her that we can be friends.
Tonight, I’ll try to convince myself that it’s all I want from her.
16
Olive Branch
Harper
I frown as I look through the peephole. Leo knocks softly at my door. Nine o’clock in the morning is too early for me to put my emotional guard up. I’m not sure why he’s outside my door.
I press my face to the peephole again so I can take in the full effect of him. He’s really quite overwhelming with his gorgeous eyes framed by long, dark lashes. If eyes are truly the windows to the soul, I wonder what Leo’s say about him.
Passionate. Beautiful. Intense.
Boom. Bababababoom. He bangs on the door, literally making me stumble back a foot and grab my chest. Is he trying to kill me? I return to the peephole and regular breathing.
“Harper. If you don’t answer the door, I’m going down to the bakery and getting Eric’s key. He’ll give it to me.” He glares at the door. Then his gaze moves exactly to the peephole and I slink to the side in one smooth step.
“OK. I’m getting the key,” he says.
I place my hand on the deadbolt and turn the tiny knob. “Just a minute.”
When I open the door, he stands with his arms folded across his chest. “May I come in?”
I shrug and take a step back.
“I knocked last night, but you must’ve been asleep,” he says.
Our eyes meet. He doesn’t believe that and I don’t feel like defending myself. “Did you need something?” I ask. It’s a grand effort to speak the words evenly and detached.
“Why, yes. I did.” He strolls across the room and sits on a barstool. He’s wearing a T-shirt, cargo shorts and is barefoot. I stare at his tan legs, finely sprinkled with hair. I remember the feel of them as they rubbed up and down the length of mine when we lay in bed together the morning after our first time together.
It was more soothing than sexual. An affectionate play with my toes stretching to touch his. His legs capturing mine between his.
“I need a favor.” He tilts his head and gives me a soft smile that reaches his eyes. “Please.”
I want to tell him I’m busy or that I have no desire to do him a favor. He shouldn’t ask me to do anything for him because my poor heart is already pining away enough as it is. No, no, no. He knew that ‘please’ at the end would get to me. “Yes. What do you want me to do?”
He grins. It’s a little boy gleeful grin that makes my chest squeeze like I’m being hugged by a bear. “Great. It may take a while. You don’t have anything to do right now, do you?”