by Fiona Archer
Seth would post that the account was not his and contact Facebook to take it down. How long would that take? And what damage could this fucker do in the meantime?
It wasn’t just his neck on the line here, but those of his brothers, too.
“Sweet Jesus.”
Seth swung his gaze to Dillon. “What?”
His brother held out his phone, shock evident in his slack features. Seth grabbed the device. As he read the Facebook post his hand clenched the phone hard enough to turn his fingers white from the pressure.
“Seth, you’re going to crack his cell phone, man. What the hell are you reading?” Zach asked.
The imposter had just chosen his next target.
Harper.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Here you go, Sondra.” Harper smiled as she handed over a cappuccino in the black cardboard cup with its white plastic lid to the thirty-something woman. Her smile widened to a grin at the two love hearts with “Just Engaged” drawn in bright pink marker on the lid.
Abby, the pocket-sized waitress and sometime barista working to Harper’s left, must have overheard Sondra’s good news and bestowed one of the cartoons she granted when the mood struck, which was often.
Sondra’s face lit up when she spied the lid. “Thanks, guys.” With a quick wave, she moved off to an old oak sideboard decorated with intricate carving and brass lion’s head handles. The garage sale find was loaded with baskets containing packets of sugar and sweetener, napkins and other paraphernalia.
As Harper collected an order from the next customer, a short, curvy woman rocked up to the counter.
Jinx Malone wore a caftan top in shades of pink, aqua, and lilac teamed with black slacks. Chunky gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears. With her long, blonde hair caught up in a sleek ponytail, she looked every inch the personal stylist and owner of House of Jade, the ultra-exclusive image consultancy located across the road. Fern-green eyes stared back at Harper.
It would be easy to hate someone that gorgeous, and maybe give her a slow death by stabbing her with a thousand toothpicks. But once anyone encountered Jinx’s whiskey-rough laughter and attitude-free personality, the woman made people converts faster than a dieter at a Herbalife convention.
As BFFs go, Harper couldn’t have found better.
Jinx raised her phone in her hand. “I didn’t get a return on my message from last night. Thought I’d come see what’s shaking.”
Harper handed the customer his change and waited for him to move off a few paces down the counter before speaking.
“In my defense I have an airtight excuse.” Wasn’t it proper decorum to turn your phone off when, err, entertaining a gentleman? Surely there was some Miss Manners guide that covered her ass on that score. “Once the morning rush dies down, I’ll share with you.”
Jinx quirked one sculpted brow at Harper, obviously reserving judgement.
Harper tipped her head toward the coffee machine. “Want your usual?”
“Yeah, babe. Need my latte.” Jinx pulled out some bills from her pants pocket.
“I’ve said before—”
“Ah!” Jinx held up her hand. “The moment you let me give you free foils and a trim you can play the free coffee card.”
“Oh, please,” Harper scoffed as Abby set to work. “That’s hardly the same thing.”
“It is when you drink as much coffee as me.” Jinx slid her money over the counter’s wooden surface, waited for her change, which she dumped in the huge red coffee cup that doubled as the tip jar.
Harper did a quick go at the math. Considering Jinx’s epic caffeine consumption, the woman had a point.
Jinx glanced at Abby’s recently dyed black hair. “You rock in pigtails, honey. That naughty schoolgirl look suits you.”
Abby’s gray eyes sparkled as she finished spooning foam into the customer’s cappuccino. “I’m digging the long black socks and short tartan skirt with my boots.” The white shirt was knotted at her slim waist, and the tie around her shirt collar finished off the look to perfection. “The boss is looking hot herself this morning.” Abby cast an assessing glance at Harper before drawing a big orange smiley face on a lid and clamping it down on the cup. She handed the coffee to the customer who nodded his thanks before he moved on to the sideboard.
“Thanks.” Harper ran a hand over her emerald green peasant top and flowing black skirt.
Jinx lifted her chin in agreement. “You get extra marks for good hair today, too.” She waved a hand in the general area of Harper’s face. “That whole casual knot on top of your head accompanied by requisite soft tendrils takes freaking ages.”
Harper rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Who knew attaining the ‘effortless look’ could be so emotionally exhausting.” She ran her hand along the heavy gold strand of the love-knot necklace she’d owned for years.
“Hey boss, Magda needs you to sign off on an order.” Nitro walked past the swinging doors from the kitchen, which was hidden behind a screen made of individual wooden doors, all painted different shades of red.
“Can’t make a plum flan without the damn fruit,” a Russian accented voice shouted from behind the screen followed by the crashing of metal.
“And a warning, she’s in a bad mood.” He looked over his shoulder, as if expecting the middle-aged chef to come out waving a meat cleaver. With his head turned, Nitro showed off the blue streak down the center of his short, black hair.
“She’s not called Mad Magda for nothing,” Abby muttered from the side of her mouth.
“Hey, she’s the maker-of-magic in the kitchen. And underneath that bluster, there’s a heart of gold.” Harper ignored Abby’s snort and Nitro’s raised eyebrows as she grabbed the tablet from his hand showing the e-order to the catering supplier.
She scanned the listed items. Fruit, baking goods, and that addictive, eighty-percent dark chocolate that Magda used to create the café’s decadent chocolate cake.
Hmm, maybe she should get a cake baked just for her. She felt her lips tip up at the edges. Bet Seth would enjoy another slice—or two—served in various ways.
“Uh, Harper, you need to see this.” Jinx’s voice came from behind her.
“Just one sec.” Harper tapped in the requisite merchant’s code, and the order flashed complete courtesy of the café’s wifi. She handed the device back to Nitro. “Go reassure Magda the order will arrive this afternoon.”
She scanned the glass pastry case that sat on top of the counter to her right. “We have plenty of flan to last us today. Drama averted.” If one ever existed. “Nitro, when you’ve finished helping Magda, I need you to—”
“Harper.” Jinx hurried through one of the gaps in the long counter that faced the street, stopping next to Harper. “Honey, is this guy why you didn’t return my message?”
She held out her phone, but it was the deep crease between her brows and the way she bit her lip that caught Harper’s attention.
Taking the device, she glanced at the screen displaying her Facebook timeline with a post tagging the café and her name and showing a photo of Seven Dishes taken from the street. The poster’s name read Seth Justice.
Fat girls are so generous and ready to please if last night was anything to go by. Who needs skinny and pissed off, when you can have grateful and begging. With chocolate cake thrown in. Perfect. Guys, check out the house special at 7 Dishes. It comes in an extra-large serving.
An icy-coldness invaded her body, starting deep in her belly and spreading outwards, seeping into her tissues and veins, forming frozen tentacles of sickening dread.
No.no.no. This couldn’t be true. Seth wouldn’t…He’d been so wonderful. And genuine.
But there were the words. Posted by him. Right there on Jinx’s phone.
Mocking her.
How could this have happened? She’d been taken in again? The answer was there on social media for the world to read and laugh over.
Oh God, the comments. Vile, horrible words swam before her on
the phone. Strangers venting their poison. A couple of her friends coming to her defense, demanding the offenders go to hell.
“I can’t—” Bile raced up her throat, forcing her to swallow.
“Honey, you need to sit down.” Jinx moved closer, curling her arm around Harper’s back. “Nitro, you guys need to take over.”
Grateful and begging.
Harper blinked at the phone’s screen.
The house special. An extra-large serving.
Last night she’d given Seth her trust, bared herself to him and not thought about size, or body image or any of that shit that some women allowed to fuck with their heads.
“That bastard.” Harper’s cold voice drew stares.
She didn’t care.
“Sweetie.” Jinx’s hand firmed on Harper’s shoulder as the stylist reclaimed her phone and tried to steer them away from the counter.
Harper’s legs locked in place and no amount of gentle tugging from Jinx was going to move her ass.
After a lifetime of her mom scolding her for every bite of food she put in her mouth, how many times had she told herself it was her own opinion of her image that counted and not anyone else’s?
But Seth thought he could publicly state her value as less than another’s because of her curves?
A roaring sound, like the hoof beats of a thousand horses speeding toward battle, filled Harper’s ears. “He doesn’t get to take that power from me.” She stepped out of Jinx’s hold and stormed through to the kitchen, barely missing a startled Abby as she strode past.
Harper ignored Magda, who stood in the center of her square fortress of stainless steel appliances and bench tops. At the small safe under the side bench, Harper entered the code they all shared to store their bags and valuables. Snatching hold of her slouchy black bag, she slung the strap over her shoulder and turned to head back out.
Jinx stood in her way with her legs spread and arms outstretched as if preparing to make a tackle. “Listen to me for a second. I’ve asked Nitro to hide the post from the Café’s Facebook page.”
“Damn.” She hadn’t thought of that.
Jinx nodded at Harper’s curse. “We need to be smart here. Whatever you’re planning, I’m going with, but first, we’ve got to get my handbag from the salon.” Harper opened her mouth to protest, but Jinx forged ahead. “Babe, if nothing else, our combined credit cards mean more bail money.”
Good thinking and exactly what Harper needed in a crisis: a best friend who could plan ahead. “Go. Now. Run. You have two minutes. Meet me outside.”
Jinx rushed back out the swinging doors.
“Bail money?” Magda wiped her hands on the black chef’s apron covering her sturdy six-foot frame, before propping them on her hips. “What the hell are you planning that you’d need bail money?” Her brows formed a deep V and, when combined with her ruddy complexion and the wisps of flame-red hair escaping her navy cap, made her look even more annoyed.
“I’m going to kick some ass,” Harper said over her shoulder before she marched through the doors leading back to the café.
Harper focused on Nitro. “This won’t take long. I’ve got my phone if it’s an emergency.”
Ignoring the stares of her customers, she charged out and crossed the road to Jinx’s salon. The loud honk of a car horn reminded her to pay attention. Sure, her private life was on the ’net for everyone to mock, but the wider world didn’t give a damn. Sucking in a deep breath, she dragged together the tattered edges of her control. Without it, she’d be denied serving Seth a well-deserved smackdown.
Jinx met her outside as Harper typed the name of Seth’s company into Google maps. Two blocks across. Made sense. Since Dillon Justice was a regular customer of the café, his workplace couldn’t have been far.
Harper started off, needing to find her quarry and wreak her vengeance before the tears that burned her eyes reduced her to a self-pitying mess. Because that wouldn’t do. Crying, that is. No way would she give this jerk her tears.
One block in, Jinx grabbed her arm. “Honey, you need to share. I can’t be an effective wing-man without some idea of what the hell’s going on.” Jinx sounded a little breathless, and with good reason since Harper had never walked so damn fast in her life.
Funny what being pissed-off did to raise a person’s cardio endurance.
She stopped, gave a brief rundown of last night to her bestie and was gratified to see Jinx’s face harden as Harper finished with, “And as a treat, when he left, I gave him an extra slice of chocolate cake. I had no idea he’d use it as a way to mock me on social media.”
“The bastard,” Jinx said, her eyes narrowing.
Harper nodded. “That’s what I say.”
“But from what you described of Seth’s behavior last night, this post is the exact opposite of how you’d expect him to act. You’re sure it’s him?” She rushed on as Harper opened her mouth. “I’m just asking the question before we storm into his office.”
“Jinx, the photo of Seven Dishes was taken last night. Late. Around the time Seth left my apartment, and the post mentions chocolate cake. Nobody else knew about the cake.” She swallowed past the lump of regret in her throat. “Nobody.”
Evidently, that was enough for Jinx. “Okay. Let’s kick some ass.”
They completed the short walk, with Jinx giving Harper sage advice on how to be awesome and kick ass at the same time, and were standing in Shazad’s reception area in less than ten minutes. A young woman with short, vibrant blue hair combed back in a high and full style glanced up as they exited the elevator.
“Remember our game plan,” Jinx whispered under her breath. “Cool and composed. Go in for the kill.”
Harper leaned her arm on the top of the high reception desk. “I need to see Seth Justice.”
The woman glanced at the phone on her desk. “He’s on a call right now. If you’ll give me your name?”
Right, so he can stall, think up some lame excuse?
Male laughter came from the open door to the right behind the reception desk. Was that Seth? Was the jerk laughing at her?
“Thanks, but we’ll handle it from here.” Grabbing hold of Jinx’s hand, she dragged her friend past the desk and through the doorway, ignoring the receptionist’s shout to wait.
With a loud oomph she ran straight into two men.
A quick scan revealed both were lucky to be over twenty and dressed in tight jeans and button down shirts.
Hipsters. Not her target.
They leaned back as if she was about to take a swing.
Harper ignored them and spied offices against a far wall. One had to be Seth’s. She motored past rows of desks covered with multiple screens, keyboards and other paraphernalia she couldn’t be bothered cataloguing in her thirst for blood.
“So much for our plan,” Jinx muttered as she hurried to keep up with Harper.
Harper ignored Jinx and the stares of the fifteen or so employees whose gazes followed them as they neared their target area.
Seth’s voice came from the office in the middle.
Bingo.
Harper didn’t take the deep breath she’d planned to before speaking to him. She didn’t go over her words in her head.
No, she just stormed right in.
And came to a jarring stop.
Four men, three of them huge, occupied the room.
Seth had his back to the door, facing the window with the handset from the desk phone to his ear.
Dillon, the smallest of the four, though it had to be said not by much, also faced the window and was talking low on his cell.
Of the two other men, one dressed in jeans and a charcoal shirt with a cop’s badge on his belt, sat on the edge of what she assumed was Seth’s desk. The short strands of his chocolate brown hair looked askew, as if having been raked with a hand. Keen blue eyes in a stubble-covered face studied her and Jinx.
The other man closest to her was well over six feet. He was the quintessential pin-up for bad-boy bi
kers with long, brown hair tied in a ponytail, a trimmed beard, black jeans and motorcycle boots. His arms were crossed over a wide chest that was covered in a black T-shirt. Tattoos adorned those same muscled arms.
The biker’s hazel gaze ran over both her and Jinx, staying on Jinx a moment longer, before landing back on her. “I’m thinking you’re not the messenger the guys ordered?” he rumbled in a deep, Aussie-accented voice.
Harper lifted her chin. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, if you mean the messenger from hell.”
Seth spun around upon hearing her voice.
So tall, strong and handsome.
She clenched her teeth against the wave of misdirected longing that streamed through her. Despite the hurt firing her emotions, her body couldn’t forget the touch of his hands on her skin, the firmness of his hold.
Needing to focus, she turned back to the biker, who simply raised his eyebrows. She embraced a fresh wave of anger at his apparent ease in the face of her fury.
The cop rose with the grace of a jungle cat, lazy but ready for action. He stood as tall as the biker and Seth, and while earlier he had studied her with mild interest, now his focus was cop-alert.
“I have to go.” Seth’s urgent voice drew her gaze. “Get the statement out now. Let me know when you hear from our lawyers,” he said a second before he hung up. “Harper, I’ve left messages on your mobile.” Walking around the desk, he reached out to take her hand, but she stepped back, bumping into Jinx.
Seth’s eyes flashed as he dropped his arm back to his side. “You’ve seen the post. Honey, it’s bullshit. Let me explain.” His face, that handsome face that she’d been entranced by, and had wanted to study in detail over many more late nights of chocolate cake and laughter, was now drawn tight with apparent concern.
Christ, he was good. She had to hand him that much.
She soaked up the burn of humiliation that seared her skin. Pain was good. Reminded her why she was here. “I can’t believe I fell for you and your lies.”
“Now hang on, Harper. Give me a chance—”
“What would you call it? Research for Bastards R Us?” Her voice waivered near the end. Dammit. She couldn’t lose face in front of Seth and these other men. A hand clasped hers at her side, giving it a squeeze before letting go. Jinx. Thank God for besties. She drew on the support and continued. “Was this a bet with Dillon in some twisted game?”