She Stole My Husband I Married His Brother

Harper's POV:

My legs stopped working and I couldn't tell if it was from recognizing him or from the way he was looking at me like he'd won something.

"Sit down, Ms. Lane," he said, gesturing to the chair across from his desk with the same hand that had been in my hair last night, touched parts of me I was trying to forget.

I should have turned around and walked out but my body wouldn't listen because it remembered how he'd made me feel like I mattered for a few hours, and that made me angry at myself for being weak.

"You knew," I said, and my voice came out steadier than I expected. "You knew I applied here."

"I did." He leaned back in his chair and his eyes never left mine. "I was checking through an application that stood out amidst some applications we received when I saw your face, I told my team to bring you in immediately."

"Why?"

"Because I've been looking for you since you left my bed yesterday morning." He said it so casually, like he was talking about the weather and not about how I'd run away from him. "I woke up and you were gone. No note...Nothing."

My face burned hot and I wanted the floor to swallow me whole because this was worse than catching Connor with Jenny, because at least those people had pretended to care about me before they destroyed me.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," I said.

"Clearly." He stood up and walked around the desk, leaning against it so he was closer to me, close enough that I could smell that clean, expensive scent that made my stomach flip. "But here you are. Applying to my company. Walking into my office in that dress that's driving me crazy."

"Stop." The word came out sharper than I meant it to. "This is a job interview, that's all this is."

"Is it?" He tilted his head and something in his expression became more serious. "I think we both know that's not true, Harper."

Hearing my name in his mouth made my chest tight, I wished he knew it that night, whispered it against my skin while I was falling apart under him.

"I need this job," I said instead, burying my fuzzy thoughts. "I came here because I need work. Not because of... not because of what happened."

"I know you need it." His voice went softer. "I looked into you. You used to work at Blake Industries until days ago when you resigned." He paused and his jaw tightened. "Your ex-husband you told me about was Connor Blake. That's why you were at the club alone, looking like your world had ended."

My throat closed up and I couldn't breathe because how did he find out so much about me in less than forty eight hours.

"That's none of your business," I managed.

"You're right. It's not." He moved closer and I should have stepped back but I didn't because my feet were glued to the floor. "But I'm making it my business because I can't stop thinking about you. I haven't been able to think about anything else since you walked out of my suite this morning."

"You don't even know me."

"I know enough." His hand came up like he was going to touch my face and then he dropped it, like he was forcing himself not to. "I know you're smart because your portfolio is better than half the designers I have working here. And I know you're strong because you're standing here trying to pretend last night didn't happen instead of running away again."

"I'm not pretending anything," I lied.

"Yes you are." He smiled. "You're pretending you don't remember how good it was between us, pretending you don't want me to kiss you right now."

My hands were shaking so I crossed my arms to hide it. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to work for me." He said it simply, like it was obvious. "I'm offering you the position of operations manager. You'd be overseeing all design projects, working directly with me, managing my personal team. The salary is five hundred thousand a year plus bonuses."

The number hit me like a punch to the stomach because that money is more than enough to change my entire life, to never have to worry about sleeping in cigarette motels or counting pennies for breakfast.

"That's too much," I said. "I know I have experience, but I'm not qualified for that position."

"I think you are." He crossed his arms and the movement made his shirt pull tight across his chest. "I looked at your designs, Harper. You're wasting it."

"You're only offering me this because we slept together."

"No." His voice went hard. "I'm offering you this because you're talented and I need someone like you. The fact that we slept together is... complicated. But it doesn't change that you're good at what you do."

I wanted to believe him but I couldn't because men didn't just hand out one million dollar jobs to women they'd known for one night, unless they wanted something from you, and I'd learned that lesson too many times to forget it now.

"This is a bad idea," I said.

"But you need this."

"You don't know what I need," I replied, and my voice broke on the last word because he was standing so close and my body was betraying me, leaning toward him without permission.

"Then tell me." His hand came up and this time he didn't stop himself, his fingers brushing my cheek so gently it made my eyes sting. "Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you."

Everything inside me screamed to say yes, to take the job and the money and let him touch me again because I was so tired of fighting, so tired of being alone, so tired of pretending I was strong when really I was breaking into pieces.

But I'd been here before with Connor, letting a man make me believe I was special when really I was just convenient, and I couldn't do that again no matter how much my body wanted to.

"I need..." I stepped back and his hand fell away from my face. "I need to leave."

His expression changed, went from soft to sharp. "What?"

I looked back at him and his face was tight with something that looked like frustration or maybe hurt, and I hated that I cared what he was feeling.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

I pulled the door open and his hand fell away and I walked out into the hallway without looking back because if I looked back I'd change my mind.

The elevator took forever to come and when it finally did I stepped inside and pressed the button for the lobby and watched the numbers go down while my heart hammered against my ribs.

What had I just done?

I'd walked away from thousands of dollars. From a job that could change everything. From a man who looked at me like I was something worth keeping.

The elevator doors opened and I walked through the lobby and pushed through the glass doors into the sunlight and it was too bright, too hot, too much.

I turned around and looked up at the building, at the fourth floor windows that were too high to see through, and I wondered if he was standing there watching me.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and started walking toward the street to find a cab, and I made it three steps before someone grabbed my arm.

I spun around and my heart jumped into my throat.

But it wasn't Hardin.

"Why are you fucking here?" I said to the person looking straight into my face.