Of Happiness (18 page)

Where is Patrick?

“Miss Neff?”

I jerk around to find the driver standing just a few feet away with the car door open and ready for my escape.

“Just one moment, Patrick.” I give him the most carefree smile I can muster and settle back on Jared. “Drop this, Jared, please. Let’s just go our separate ways, and nothing awful needs to happen.”

“I’ve already long forgotten about you. In fact, I’m on my way to meet my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend?
I wonder silently. Who has he tricked this time?

“Do us both a favor and pass along the message to whatever loser you had call me, okay?”

Shaking my head, I abruptly turn away from him and stalk into the car without a second glance. This encounter was far more than a blip; it was a whole dang skunk spray of animosity. Once safely in the car, I peer back at Jared. He’s shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels casually like he didn’t just suggest that he would hurt me if Harris hurt him.

Do I tell Harris? I anxiously wring my hands together.

The answer comes easily—yes. The underlying violent message behind Jared’s words was not something I could brush away without second thought.

When Harris threatened Jared’s father’s political seat, Jared considered it an act of warfare. He doesn’t take well to any disturbance to his father’s career, real or imagined. Jared does not have a traditional job. Unofficially, he is an aide to his father with the intentions of taking over his role as congressman once his father retires. Eventually, near the end of our relationship, I realized Jared and his family were grooming me to become the quintessential politician’s wife. Jared will stop at nothing to achieve his political aspirations.

In the past, I would hold on to any concern or fear, dissecting it by myself. But now that I’m in a committed, loving relationship with Harris, there’s someone to shoulder some of the burden. And that someone insisted I let him know if Jared bothered me again.

When a rush of sticky air filters into the car, I realize that we’ve arrived at the hotel. Patrick waits patiently outside the vehicle, door open while I hide inside the car. Using the door handle as leverage, I swing out of the car and thank Patrick. Without much interest in my surroundings, I move through the lobby of the hotel and use the room key to get access to the penthouse floor.

I thrust the door open and walk swiftly inside the suite. Upon entering, I can’t immediately find Harris, the large living space disconcertingly empty. 

“Harris?”

Silence.

“Harris?” My voice holds worry. I’m already crossing the living room into the bedroom as I speak.

The sight causes my shoulders to slump and trepidation to replace the earlier fear and anger. All thoughts of Jared evaporate, and I’m completely focused on my man.

He sits on the edge of the bed, bent over his lap with his hands cupping his face. Elbows resting on his knees, I’m unable to read his eyes. There’s only one person that could cause him such distress—Claire.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” I murmur. He doesn’t respond until he hears the sound of my purse falling next to him on the bed. I move so that I’m standing in front of him, then fall to my knees and gently stroke his propped up forearms. The normally calm, collected man’s eyes swim with worry.

“Tell me.”

“Claire skipped the rehab center. Her therapist called while you were out.” He pulls his hand free from my soothing caress, rubbing his eyes.

Oh no.

“And you can’t get ahold of her.” It’s not a question; I already know what he’ll say.

All of a sudden, I’m not on the floor anymore. Harris hauls me into his lap as though I weigh as much as a four-year-old. His arms wind around my waist, fusing our bodies together tightly. Worry radiates off him in waves. His tan skin is slightly paler and his shoulders are slumped.

Gently, I push his head onto my shoulder. I stroke the length of his taut back. “Just because she avoided therapy doesn’t mean that she’s hurt somewhere. Knowing Claire, I bet she flew off to a tropical island to recharge.” Deep down, I don’t believe what I’m saying. And I know Harris doesn’t either when he squeezes me harder and nuzzles deeper into my arms.

“We’ll find out where she is soon enough. I called an investigator to track her down. Again.”

“This has happened before?”

“Yes, a few years ago.” He inhales deeply, his breath tickling my neck. “Ran off with some guy for a tour of Europe’s best cocaine.” The steady stokes I’m drawing on his back freeze; my breathing stops. Of course I knew Claire did drugs, but I had no idea that she went to those extremes.

Did she run away with Amanda’s husband?

He untangles himself from my embrace, moving so we can make eye contact, and answers my unspoken question. “Amanda and Peter are together at home. It’s unclear how much my sister told Amanda about her role in Peter’s infidelity.”

In an effort to comfort Harris, I drop my forehead to his, whispering, “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. If we need to wake up in the middle of the night and fly to St. Barths to retrieve Claire from a shopping spree, I’ll be by your side.” His lips twitch upward.

“With you, my worries are so much less daunting,” Harris murmurs, brushing my lips with his. “You’re my strength.”

Swiftly, he turns, spreading me out on the bed before him.

“Aren’t we leaving soon?” I ask breathlessly.

“We have time.” He stretches out over top of me, capturing my lips in his, erasing whatever else we concerned ourselves with.

Despite Harris’ reassurance that we had enough time, now we’re running late. Harris’ earlier concerns reappear; when he’s not silently brooding, he’s snapping at me. Harris sulks on the opposite end of the car, hardly looking my way. I fight back the concern that he’s distancing himself from me. I won’t let us fall apart again.

“Did Luke let you know if my things made it to your place?” I try to divert his attention.

“I said your belongings would be moved by the time we get back to Chicago,” Harris says shortly, his gaze trained outside the car window, “so they will be.”

Sliding my hand across the empty expanse of leather, I cover his hand and fit my fingers between his.

Turning slightly, he looks at me. Something in my face must show how I’m responding to the bite. “Baby, I’m sorry.” He flips his hand over and presses our palms together. He cocks his head slightly and I wiggle across the seat, tucking myself into his side. “Stressed,” he mutters against my hair.

“Understandable.”

The rest of the ride is silent and then we’re loading on to the private airplane again. This time we sit in the large tan chairs, facing each other with a table between us. As soon we take off, I pull my laptop from my travel bag and begin reviewing blog posts. Harris reveals his tablet, attending to his own work. For a while, it’s silent, only the sounds of us tapping on our devices.

“Back to reality tomorrow,” he observes quietly.

“A better reality because we’ll be living together.”

My eyes lift to where he studiously observes me. “I wasn’t pulling away from you earlier, you know that right?”

“In the car?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t my favorite way to be treated by you, but I understand the pressure and concern you’re feeling.”

“Relying on someone is new to me. Relying on the woman I’m madly in love with is even more unusual. I’m afraid it may take some time for my natural reaction to change from pushing you to away to pulling you closer.”

My lips quirk. “Both of us need to learn to lean on the other.” As I say the words, I know that I need Harris’ support on Jared’s threats. But in this moment, he’s treading in unknown waters for his sister. My problems are less urgent.

Long fingers wrap around the arches of my feet, releasing them from their sandals and then pulling them into this lap. He places my heels on his hard, denim-covered thighs.

“I love you.”

My heart rate increases, skin tingling from where he touches me. On some level, yes, it’s lust, but on deeper inspection, I’m invigorated with all-consuming love for this handsome, serious, considerate, enthralling man.

“Me too,” I whisper back.

The response pleases him. He nods once and releases my feet. We work quietly nearly the rest of the flight. When the pilot announces over the speaker system that we will land in twenty minutes, Harris drops his tablet on the seat next to him. He gestures for me to lift my computer and when I do, he folds the table between us in half, toward the window, and I place my device on top of it.

“Come,” he demands.

I save what I’m working on, and pull my legs back underneath me, so I can shuffle across the space and into his lap.

“Flying is way more entertaining with you. We’ll have to make this more frequent. I want you with me when I’m traveling as often as possible,” he announces.

I smile against his chest, where my cheek rests. “Let me check my calendar.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You do that. And if you need help clearing it, I have a fantastic assistant, Luke, who knows how to rearrange meetings.”

When we land, deplaning takes less than ten minutes and we’re on our way. I send a flurry of text messages to my dad, Sarah, and Sean, letting them know that we arrived safely back in Chicago. Sarah immediately responds, letting me know that she’ll be in town in two weeks to scout wedding venues with her mother and Greg. Dad’s at work, but tells me that he’ll call me later this week. Sean’s hungry to hang out.

Sean: Welcome home and all that crap. Tomorrow night we’re going on a double date, so I can see with my very own eyes how Mr. Dark and Broody is treating my bestie.

Eddie: Won’t it be awkward for Luke and Harris?

Sean: They’ll both do it because they’re crazy about us. I already asked Luke and he says it’s all good as long as boss man agrees. That means ask him.

Eddie: I will.

Sean: ASAP! Don’t dawdle because it’s “not the right time.”

It’s funny how quickly Sean learns my avoidance techniques.

I’m smiling to myself at the thought when Harris asks, “What’s with the grin?”

“Sean suggested a double date tomorrow. Luke says it’s all right with him if you don’t mind.”

“Will it make you happy?”

“Very much,” I admit.

“Then we’ll go. But for the record, I don’t mind. Clearly all boundaries of boss and assistant were broken when I started sending him desperate texts for information about you,” Harris reminds me wryly.

When we get back to the apartment, everything looks the same as it did when we left. Gleaming wood floors and pristine countertops remind me that we’re still in the same residence. But there’s a noticeable difference lurking behind the closet doors and in the dresser cabinets—proof I live here now.

Harris strides ahead of me when we get inside, carrying our suitcases into the bedroom. My feet refuse to move when they see what’s resting on the breakfast bar—the only framed photograph I have of my parents and some of my work materials. It’s almost like I left them there myself. And, damn, there’s a warmness that washes throughout my body, a soothing sensation. I feel like a weary traveler, besting so many obstacles to finally land at my resting place.

At long last finding a place where I fit.

“What are you doing out here?” Harris weaves our fingers together, pulling me in the direction of the bedroom. “There’s something I want to show you.” This time my feet respond, and I let him take over as we make our way to the table on “his” side of the bed.

What I see breaks me out of my stupor, and a surprised flush covers my cheeks. I discover a new décor element. Inside the silver frame is a picture of me playing piano the night my father was in attendance. The camera caught me making eye contact with someone in the audience, probably Dad. There’s a hint of a smile on my face, expression steady.

“Who took this?” I murmur as I pluck the frame off the table and study the picture. I feel Harris slide his arms around my waist from behind.

“Me.”

It’s a simple admission, and though it makes me happy, that he took a picture of me is not what steals my breath. No, it’s that the first personal touch to his home is a declaration of our relationship.

“Harris,” I whisper.

“We haven’t taken any pictures of us two yet, but we will.” He tightens his hold on me. I tilt my head back, succumbing to his embrace.

“I’m so glad you broke all those boundaries with Luke. I’m so glad you didn’t give up on us.”

“There was no challenge I wouldn’t best to get you back where you belong. With me.”