by Susan Meier
“We put a moratorium on hiring until February.”
“I know. But I’m trying to help my friend and I don’t know enough about the kind of job she wants to really understand how to assist her.”
“What kind of work does she want?”
“Administrative or personal assistant.”
“Lots of jobs like that out there.”
He stifled a sigh of relief. Hope built. Maybe with Mary’s help he could get Harper a job and put her out of range of temptation. “Good.”
“What are her qualifications?”
“She ran a personal-assistant-type company before she married my friend. She walked dogs, planned parties, sent birthday gifts for guys too busy to buy them, that kind of thing.”
Mary sat back. “Oh.”
His hope crumbled itself into a ball and tossed itself into the trash can. “That was a bad ‘oh.’”
“She doesn’t have any office experience. She’s probably going to have to start at the bottom somewhere.”
“As what?”
“Clerk, typist, mail room.”
His hope peered out of the trash can. “She’s willing to do anything.”
“She also needs to be willing to start at the bottom of the pay scale.”
Knowing Harper wasn’t picky, Seth and his hope perked up. “How low is bottom?”
She named a figure and he sucked in a breath. His hope collapsed and died. “She’ll never support herself on that.”
“No one can. Most people starting out get a roommate.”
That’s what he’d done. Two years after graduating university, he and Ziggy still needed to live together. He couldn’t get his own place until the investment firm he and Clark started had become successful. Now that Mary had him thinking back to his very humble beginnings, he realized it didn’t matter what Harper did. The only work she could do would not support her and a baby.
She was going to have to tell her mom...live with her mom.
The possibility upset him almost as much as he knew it would upset Harper.
He left Mary’s office and ambled to his own, trying to think this through. The easy answer would be for her to let him buy her a condo, but if she wouldn’t let him buy her a few sweaters, she’d never let him buy her a place to live.
He could afford a hundred houses and she wouldn’t let him buy her one measly house—
He could afford a hundred houses. He could buy a condo, a beach house, a house in Connecticut... He could buy anything he wanted.
Maybe that was the answer.
He’d tell her he wanted a new place, something bigger or maybe an actual house, and his condo would be open. She’d never take it as a gift, but he could have an agreement drawn up where he sold her the condo interest-free and she paid him a minimal amount every month.
He’d make the deal sufficient that she would know he wasn’t giving her his condo, but also so sweet she wouldn’t be able to resist it.
He laughed. Once he found himself a place, their separation wouldn’t depend on her finding a job. Though he would still help her find work. He just wouldn’t be doing it while sleeping in the next room. He’d be in another condo or a house a state away.
He went home happy. Not because he wanted to be away from her, but because he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t like the idea that hormones or mixed-up feelings from the past or even proximity would lure him into something he couldn’t get out of without hurting her. Or getting hurt himself. Finding himself a new place was the perfect answer.
He walked into his condo whistling. “Hey, I had a thought today.”
Occupied with tucking the baby into her carrier, Harper peeked over. “You did?”
“You know how you need a house?”
“Yes.”
“I also need a house.”
At that she stopped tucking the blanket around Crystal and peered at him. “What?”
“Look around you. This is the condo of a guy who’s got a little money but he’s also frugal.”
She gaped at him. “It’s a beautiful place.”
“I’m not saying it’s not beautiful. I’m saying it doesn’t suit me anymore.”
“Oh. You want something a little more McCallan.”
He winced. “No. I’d been tossing around the idea of getting a new home. I bought this about a year after Clark and I started the investment firm. I still didn’t know if we’d make it or not. Then two years ago my dad died, and I’m not going to lie, Harper, I inherited some money.”
“Seth, there’s no crime in that. For people who have a ton of money, you and your family are very nice. Very normal.”
Very normal? He almost laughed. He’d spent his childhood listening to his parents argue, his teen years being bullied by his dad and his adulthood avoiding all of it until Jake—the brother he loved and trusted—asked him for help running the family business and he’d agreed.
“Anyway, I realized I could sell this one to you.”
She gasped. “Oh, Seth. I can’t afford this.”
“I know. Theoretically, you can’t afford anything until you get a job.” Or even after she got a job, but she’d realize that soon enough. “But here’s the deal. I can sell you this and finance it for you.”
“What?”
“I’ll have my lawyer draw up papers that transfer ownership to you in return for you paying me a certain amount every month until the value of the condo is reached.”
“You mean never.”
He shook his head. “Most mortgages take forever to pay off because of interest. I was thinking of not charging you interest.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“It’s too generous!”
“Hey, what Clark did for me saved me.” Another thing he needed to remember when touching Harper tempted him. “Besides, there are other strings attached to this deal.”
“What strings?”
“I have money but very little time. You have time on your hands. It would help me if you’d meet with a real estate agent and weed out the bad properties, so I’d only have to see the ones that really were contenders.”
Her face brightened. “I’d do that for nothing...as your friend.”
“You made my case for no interest. Just as you would help me find a house or a bigger condo because you’re my friend. I should be allowed to sell you this place and finance it with no interest because I’m your friend.”
“You’re not going to bamboozle me.”
“No. But you’re not going to change my mind about no interest.” He sighed. “This works for both of us, Harper. Take the deal.”
* * *
The following morning, Mrs. Petrillo was happy to watch the baby while Harper and Seth met with Bill Reynolds, a real estate agent recommended to Seth by a friend. Rather than meet in his office, Bill suggested they get together at an empty condo not far from Seth’s current home in Midtown. Harper might be the one doing the actual legwork of finding Seth a new place to live, but Bill wanted Seth to see a few condos, so he could get an idea of what Seth wanted.
When Seth and Harper arrived at the building, it was easy to see it had been renovated, but it had been done in such a way as to keep the “old Manhattan” charm of things like fleur-de-lis crown molding, pocket doors, elegant chandeliers and reclaimed hardwood floors.
Harper’s face lit up when they rode the old-fashioned elevator to the top floor. But when she saw Bill Reynolds, her eyes widened. Dressed in a dark suit and white shirt with a slim tie, he wasn’t buttoned down. His jacket swung open when he reached out to shake Seth’s hand and his tie had been loosened.
Seth supposed the real estate agent’s intent had been to look approachable but for some reason or another it got on Seth’s nerves.
“It’s a pleasure to mee
t you, Mr. McCallan.”
“It’s Seth.”
“Seth,” Bill said amiably. He turned to Harper. “And this is Harper?”
“Yes. She’s the friend who will be helping me find a new home.”
Seth swore the man didn’t hear a word after Seth said, “She’s the friend.”
His eyebrows rose, and his smile grew as he shook Harper’s hand. “I don’t suppose you’re looking for a place?”
“She’s taking my current condo,” Seth said, moving from the entryway into the living room. A white fireplace drew his eye first. Dark sofas sat parallel to each other atop a yellow area rug. End tables were thick, old wood. Lamps were dusty. Drapes hid the view.
“Look beyond the furniture, Seth,” Harper said, walking to the window. “That crown molding is beautiful.” She pulled open the drapes and gasped. “The view is fantastic. Everything else is cosmetic.”
Bill inclined his head. “You’re very smart about this stuff.”
“No. I spent a year house hunting with my husband.”
Bill deflated. “Your husband?”
“Deceased,” Harper said quietly.
“I am so sorry,” Bill said, but Seth didn’t believe he meant a word of it. He gave Bill the side eye. Dark hair. Sharp green eyes, so colorful they had to be contacts. Clean shaven. Good suit.
Though New York claimed to be a city for all people, there were tiers of society. Seth and his family sat on the top tier with only a few other extraordinarily wealthy families. Below them was a tier of people almost as wealthy as the McCallans. Below that was a tier of people still wealthy enough not to have to work, but with less money than the two tiers above them. Below them were what Seth called the working rich.
That’s where Bill fit. If Seth bought a condo through Bill, his commission would be high six figures, maybe even seven. Sell eight or ten condos a year with that kind of commission and you earned yourself a place at good restaurants, charity fund-raisers, private parties attended by only the elite.
But though Bill wasn’t truly wealthy, he was Harper’s type. A man who worked hard to make something of himself.
Seth wanted to hate him but couldn’t. That’s what Seth had been, when he’d left home. That’s what Harper had liked—maybe even what she’d loved about Clark. Harper had hated the life of luxury without substance. Clark had had substance. Hard-working real estate agent Bill had substance.
They breezed through a formal dining room, a den, an open kitchen desperately in need of a remodel and a maid’s suite, then to a hidden set of stairs that led to three guestrooms and a generous master suite.
“I don’t need all these rooms.”
Bill laughed. “Of course, you don’t. But space is money in the city. If you’re paying twenty-five million dollars, you should get something to show for it.” He pointed at French doors that led to a balcony. “Like that. Imagine that view at night.”
He saw the skyline and knew that when it was dark, with hundreds of lights twinkling in the surrounding buildings, it was probably amazing. “I’m not the kind of guy who’s going to stand out on the balcony in my pajamas—”
“None of which matters,” Harper interrupted. “Because this place needs too much remodeling for you.”
Seth faced her. “It does?”
“Yes.” She smiled at him and he felt a little better. Not quite the snob Bill made him feel like. “If your condo furnishings are anything to go by, you like clean lines. You also like an open floorplan.”
Bill brightened. “I have just the thing for you. Two buildings down. Open concept. Kind of modified industrial.”
They left the condo and walked up the street to the building. Seth wasn’t happy with that home, either. He also didn’t like the third place Bill showed them.
Driving home, Harper said, “I think what you really didn’t like was Bill.”
Seth glanced out the window. “He was pretentious.”
“He was trying to make a living.”
“Actually, I think he was buttering me up, hoping to make an easy sale. He said we were only going out in order that he could get an idea of what I wanted but he thought I’d buy one of those three.”
“Well, you didn’t, and now that he’s seen your taste, he’ll try harder next time.” She smiled again, and Seth felt better again.
“Besides, you won’t have to go condo hunting until I narrow the choices down to two or three places I genuinely believe you will love.”
He said, “That’s good,” then remembered she’d be alone with Bill Reynolds. Ambitious, centered, normal guy, Bill Reynolds.
Jealousy slithered through him like green slime. Sticky. Hot. Uncomfortable. He tried to shrug it off, but slime didn’t shrug off easily.
“Maybe I should come with you?”
“You don’t trust me?”
Damn. “Of course, I trust you.”
She caught his gaze. “Then trust me to work with Bill.”
He wondered if there was a double meaning behind what she said, then called himself an idiot. He couldn’t have her. She’d been Clark’s. He also wouldn’t put himself into a position where he could become like his dad. So, what did it matter if she found another man interesting?
He stopped the Ferrari in front of the condo building and waited while she exited. She waved goodbye and walked inside, and he didn’t stare after her like somebody so weak he didn’t know good from bad. In a roundabout way, his dad had taught him good from bad. He’d married Seth’s mom, but he hadn’t been faithful. Seth had seen his mom cry, heard their fights. All because his dad had a roving eye and not one clue about loyalty or honesty. Especially not honesty with himself.
Seth shot off in the direction of McCallan, Inc. He was honest enough with himself not to pine after a woman he couldn’t have, even if loneliness unexpectedly filled his soul.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THAT AFTERNOON, HARPER called Bill Reynolds to discuss more homes for viewing. He pointed out six listings on the real estate company’s website, she chose three and they arranged to see all three the next day.
She made Seth a special dinner. They’d almost made a huge mistake after the cocktail party. She’d wanted to touch him so much, she’d ached from it. But their being together was a bad idea.
Whatever he’d done on Sunday had helped him to accept that. He’d even happily decided he was the one who needed a new home. So, when he’d seemed horribly out of sorts while Bill showed them the condos, she worried it was because he was having second thoughts about moving. She appreciated his helping her get a place for herself and Crystal, and as long as he really did let her pay him for his condo, she wanted it. But if he had even one inkling of doubt about doing this, she wouldn’t let him sell his home to her.
With the baby sitting in her carrier and dinner served, she casually said, “So, I made arrangements to see three more condos tomorrow.”
He sucked in a breath. “Did you?”
Sucked in breath? Eyes down? That added up to avoidance. She was correct. He wasn’t happy.
“Two are gorgeous. If they meet my standards, they might be contenders. The other one is actually two condos that could be combined into one.”
He peeked at her. “That would mean renovations.”
“I added it because I saw terrific potential. If you wouldn’t mind a bit of renovating, you could really make that place yours.”
“No. No renovations. I want move-in ready.”
“Okay, I won’t look at that one then.”
His face registered relief. “So, you’d only be looking at two?”
That was confusing. Why would he possibly be happy there were only two condos instead of three? If he really didn’t want a different home, he wouldn’t want her looking at anything.
She had no choice but to push him to either stop knocking houses off
the list or to admit he didn’t want her looking at anything.
“Maybe I’ll only look at one, if the first one is good.”
His face brightened again. “If you like this first one a lot, maybe I should just come with you? That way if we both like it I can take it.”
That didn’t fit with either idea.
She set her fork down. “Seth, you don’t want to buy the first thing you see. Options are good.”
“Options mean more time.”
“That’s why I’m going out with Bill for the first look at every property. To weed out the ones that for sure wouldn’t work.”
“Yeah. I get it.” He bounded out of his seat. “You know what? I’m kind of tired tonight. And there’s a game on. I’m just going to go watch that.”
He started down the hall, but she caught up with him. “Wait a minute. You have to tell me what’s wrong.”
“There is nothing wrong except I had a long day and I’m tired and there’s a game on.”
She studied his eyes. They didn’t even flicker. But there was a shadow of something in them. Actually, it could be exhaustion.
Maybe he was right? Maybe he was fine. Tired, but fine.
Still, standing this close all her feelings from the night of the cocktail party crept up on her. Something about him drew her. Made her pulse jump and all her longings rise, reminding her that being with a man she loved was wonderful.
But they’d already talked about this. She’d told him anything between them was wrong and he’d listened.
Maybe that was what was going on now? He’d flirted with her on Saturday night and she’d rebuffed him. She’d told a sweet, sexy guy she didn’t want him. She didn’t think she’d hurt him, but she had said she didn’t want anything to start between them.
Maybe he was keeping his distance because she’d asked him to?
Disappointment filled her. But she was the one who had nixed a relationship.
Because they weren’t a good match.
She took a step back, away from him. They weren’t right for each other. But they were still friends. He was kind enough to sell her his condo and she liked the idea of doing some work to help him find a new place to live. If she wanted their friendship to survive, maybe she had to stop pushing.