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“Well, get ready,” Harper whispers, kissing her cheek right at the corner of her lips. “Because this empire has only just begun.”
Chapter 26
Six months after sending Velvet & Silk packing, Harper Brooks has discovered that starting a magazine from scratch bears a certain resemblance to falling in love: you begin convinced you’ll stay in control and end up making crucial decisions at three in the morning, fueled by coffee and wondering when your life turned into a fascinating whirlwind.
The big difference is that, with LUMEN, Victoria is right by her side, losing control at the same breakneck pace. And that changes everything.
“I don’t want to hear the word ‘impossible’ on this floor ever again,” Harper declares, striding down the hallway with a folder under her arm. “If anyone tells me again that the cover dress won’t arrive by Thursday, I want names, phone numbers, and a good explanation.”
“I have to admit, I love this new side of you, Brooks,” Solange teases with a mischievous smile.
Harper can’t help but let a smile slip as she walks.
“You, Julian, and the three nights in a row we’ve spent eating pizza created this.”
“Then I deserve a raise. And a three-week retreat at a spa in Bali where the word ‘Wi-Fi’ is banned.”
“Don’t get too big for your britches, dear. We’re still in the first phase.”
The LUMEN newsroom is housed in a renovated former industrial warehouse in the heart of Tribeca. Endless ceilings, iron beams, floor-to-ceiling windows, and that signature New York light flooding every corner. Harper remembers perfectly the first time they set foot in the empty space: Victoria stood in the middle of the warehouse, arms crossed and gaze fixed ahead, mentally designing desks, photo sets, and offices before a single brick even existed.
Now everything has come to life. The tables are overflowing with fabric swatches, layout sketches, files, and those little creative messes that Julian proudly describes as “the foundation of my inspiration.” An entire wall serves as a bulletin board for the editorial calendar, and in the center of the floor stands a table where they’ve made the most brilliant decisions of their careers—and where they’ve also argued for long minutes over the use of a serif typeface.
Harper is passionate about this place. She loves the constant buzz and the energy of a team that’s half a second ahead of trends. But above all, she adores what they’ve achieved: a space with soul that’s unique and wonderful.
“Harper.”
Victoria’s voice comes from the office. One of their first decisions as co-directors was to eliminate hierarchical barriers: two identical offices, facing each other, connected by a shared desk.
Harper pushes open the door and closes it behind her.
Victoria is standing at the desk, an iPad in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She’s wearing a dark gray pantsuit that fits her like a second skin, and her loose blonde hair is complemented by that piercing gaze that takes Harper’s breath away. Even after half a year of living and working together, Harper still feels that flutter in her stomach.
“What’s going on?” Harper asks, stepping closer to her.
Victoria rotates the iPad’s screen, savoring the moment.
“Advertising bookings for the second issue have just exceeded projections.”
Harper blinks, surprised.
“Before we’ve even printed the first issue?”
“Before we’ve even sent the first issue to the printer. Exactly.”
And there it is—that smile. The arrogant curve so typical of Victoria Vance.
“Which companies have signed on?” Harper asks, leaning over her shoulder.
“In addition to high-end cosmetics brands, this morning we closed an exclusive deal for the digital edition with a major conglomerate.”
“With whom, exactly?”
“Cartier.”
“Damn.”
Victoria glances at her out of the corner of her eye and raises an eyebrow, amused.
