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It’s still there now, along with the reminder that Harper St. John is Josh’s little sister. She’s still eight years younger than me and absolutely, positively, completely off limits.
Those things are still true even though I’m aware she’s more beautiful now than ever. The few years we’ve spent apart have given her the face of a goddess and the sort of body that could rule a man.
Harper’s long gone from the top of the stairs but I continue staring. The same odd feeling from earlier pulls at my gut, whispering to me that she was lying.
When she said there was nothing more to tell me something felt off. The same something that feels off with her entire story about going to Massachusetts.
As a senior financial analyst it’s my job to know when something is wrong.
The same wrong feeling I get when I know an investment is not worth my time is spiking my nerves now.
I’d bet my entire billion-dollar fortune and the damn silver spoon she thinks is shoved up my ass that her friend Beth knows what’s going on.
I could go to Beth and try to get the intel from her, but it’s not my place.
I could also have pushed Harper but I know she wouldn’t have cracked.
I’ll always help Josh whenever he needs me. However, there’s a line I can’t cross when it comes to Harper. The respect privacy line.
At least I know she’s safe. Now I can get back to my own problems with my father and my waning future at Le Blanche Global, my family’s multi-billion dollar investment and hedge fund company.
As great as my father is, I know that if I don’t find a wife in the next few months I won’t have the future I deserve at the company.
Then it will be my life that will go straight to hell.
The following night Josh drops by looking like he’s been through all the wars of this world.
His usually-neat black hair is a ruffled mess, his beard looks like a bird’s nest, and dark circles surround his eyes.
I was working out downstairs in my home gym when he arrived, so we headed back down there to talk.
We sit on the treadmill and I toss him a beer from the mini fridge. He catches it and glances at the bench press across from us with the weights stacked to a hundred and sixty pounds.
“Geez, are you sure you can manage all that?” He looks me over, sizing me up.
“Of course. Can’t you?”
He laughs out loud as if my dig was the funniest thing he’s ever heard. “I can lift that awake and asleep.”
We’ve had this running joke about who’s the strongest since high school, when we started to match each other in height and build.
“Need me to spot you?” Josh cocks his head toward the weights again then opens his beer and takes a swig.
“You look too wiped out to spot anyone. And I’m sure you didn’t drop by to razz me about how much weight I can press.”
“No. I owe you for picking up Harper last night.”
“No worries. How is she?”
“Don’t get me started. She pissed me the hell off, but I had to fly back to check on her.”
“I knew you would.”
“I owe you money, too, bro. I transferred the fee for her bail and the rent arrears to your account. I need to know how much more you spent.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I grab a towel and wipe the sweat off my face. “It’s cool.”
“Come on, Asher, don’t do that to me.” He gives me a worn-out big-brother smile. “You must have paid a hell of a lot to get that guy to drop the charges and cover the damages on his car.”
