Chapter 15: Harlow

Chapter Fifteen

HARLOW

" I take back every word I said last night," I whisper faintly as what seems like twenty female heads turn in my direction as we walk into Aunt Gia's living room—or reception room as the black-suited man called it. Cal said that was Nelson, Aunt Gia's man of affairs. I have no idea what that means. Right now, my lost job is the least of my worries.

Aunt Gia's house is enormous, even by city standards. The reception room is bigger than Grams' entire apartment and spans the length of the house from the street to the back yard. It's split into four seating areas, and the crowd of relatives fills up two of them.

When the stylist arrived, they had four racks of clothing and an army of assistants carrying boxes and garment bags. They had shoes and dresses and even undergarments in more colors than I knew existed. We started with the undergarments because the stylist insisted that the key to a beautiful gown was a foundation garment, and honestly I had no idea that's how celebrities looked so good with their clothes so smooth and well-fitted.

I ended up getting a dress in silk organza with a three-layer tulle petticoat. It was cream with pink colored flowers printed all over. A corseted bodice molded around my torso and cinched in my waist. The cups were too big, but there was a seamstress on the team, and she whipped out a sewing machine and did an alteration in my dining room.

The whole time Cal sat on my sofa and watched the entire dressing and undressing, fitting, modifying, and finally, the finishing.

I twirled in front of him feeling like an actual princess in my mesh kitten heels with the embroidered flowers and the layers of silk and tulle swishing around my legs. He clapped for me, ordered everyone out of the apartment, and then carried me to the bedroom where he lifted my skirts and proceeded to bend me over the mattress and pound me from behind. I can still feel the imprint of his hands through the silk around my waist. It had been as good as when he woke me with his mouth between my legs this morning. Both times I could feel how much he needed me. He has some kind of hunger for me. Yes, I am focusing on the great sex instead of my impending doom. I can worry about that later.

I'm glad he brought in the stylist and the dresses and that I'm wearing a party gown fancy enough for a wedding because every woman in this room is wearing something gorgeous. It's like we're all attending a party at the Met instead of a dinner at a relative's house.

Cal takes my sweaty palm in his dry hand and leads me forward. "Aunt Gia, this is Harlow Sinclair. Harlow, my aunt, Gia Remmington."

I shake her hand and suppress the urge to curtsy. Aunt Gia is a tiny woman in a black dress with diamonds so bright and plentiful you'd think we were at a Tiffany showroom. Every finger on her hand has a rock the size of my thumbnail. Her ears are weighed down with pear shaped diamonds that make a tinkling sound when she moves her head.

"So beautiful, but of course, our Calix has exquisite taste. Let me introduce you to everyone. I meant to have only a few people, but everyone was so curious about who snared our dear boy."

I clutch Cal's hand tighter and send him a silent plea not to leave my side. Aunt Gia remains seated while everyone else gets up and comes to greet us, like some kind of odd reception line. No one is unkind or judgmental, though. After the first five, I forget everyone's names. It's too much.

Finally, Aunt Gia leads us into dinner.

"I had meant for the two of you to sit across from each other," she says, pointing to two chairs on either side of the table.

"That won't be necessary," Cal says and sits me down next to him. "Karen can sit in my chair. Karen's head of marketing for our global company corporation. Harlow works at an ad agency as a junior creative."

I almost choke on my water. Shit, I didn't realize I'd have to fake my job credentials at this dinner.

Karen is a tall blonde who looks like she walks the runway instead of working in an office. Her dress is dark green and form-fitting with ruching on the shoulder and waist. Her jewelry consists of a simple diamond pendant and matching earrings. A tennis bracelet circles one wrist and a diamond encrusted watch. Her style is beautiful but subtle. On top of that, she has a warm smile.

"Tell me what kind of campaigns you worked on."

I try to respond normally despite my insides roiling. "We're rolling out a new consumer product right now, and we just finished up an eco-friendly laundry scent pods campaign."

"Very diverse." She nods approvingly. The conversation pauses as the waiters, actual waiters, bring in salads and soup for everyone. "When did you start?"

"I'm a new hire so I just moved out of probation into a permanent position." I'm sick to my stomach with the lying but what can I do?

"If you ever get bored where are you working, please come see me. We fully approve of nepotism in the Line family. After all, what good is it to have a family business if you can't hire your friends and relatives. By the way, Cal, I heard you were looking into acquiring a few ad agencies. Whatever happened to that?"

"I'm buying one and passed on the other. The client book was solid, but Trident said that there are a lot of underlying personnel issues. It's having unusually high turnover. The clients will eventually leave, so there's no need to buy it," he answers.

These conversations are very different than the ones I have with Ariel. We talk about awful bosses, the changing menu at the local coffee shop, and how we love the new Dior purse but wouldn't ever be able to buy it. These people talk about trading companies like you'd exchange gift cards. Despite the expensive dress, I don't really fit in here.

"When do you think the wedding will be?" Aunt Gia interrupts.

"I was thinking next week," Cal answers. Aunt Gia's silverware drops onto her porcelain plate with a loud clatter.

"You can't be serious."

"We haven't really discussed timing, but I'd like it sooner rather than later. We can always have a large party after the marriage license is filed."

"There are so many details to take care of, lawyers to consult, for example," Aunt Gia protests.

"Since I don't plan on divorcing Harlow, there's no reason for one. You aren't going to abandon me, are you?" He turns to me.

I shake my head because the only thing keeping me upright at this point is the possibility that he's really into me. I want this to be true even if it's the height of stupidity to believe in him.

"There. No divorces. Even if Harlow would want to get rid of me, it wouldn't be possible. I'd stick to her like an annoying fly."

"Flies only live twenty-four hours," Karen supplies unhelpfully.

"I'm a magical fly. I regenerate every night." He winks at me, and a semi-hysterical cackle escapes my mouth.

Cal's playful expression turns to worry, and the small amount of soup I just ate threatens to come up next.

"Excuse me," I croak. I get to my feet. Karen points toward a doorway, hopefully leading me to the bathroom and not the exit door. Or maybe I should just leave. I stand just outside the dining room; the murmur of voices, the tinkling of dishes, and the realization that I am batting outside of my league sets in. My phone pings. I pull the device from my pocket and read the message. It is accompanied by a photo of Mindy and a man, smiling into the camera.

Look who I ran into. Rick Fellows. He had an interesting story. He said he was almost hired to pretend to be some girl's fiancé so the girl could get the board's approval for the title transfer of an apartment she inherited from her grandma. And you know what? He thinks the apartment was at The Grand! I can't wait to share this story with Gertie and the board.

My phone falls to the floor.