Harlow (Society Girls #7)

by Crystal Perkins

  “Go ahead.”

  “Were you addressing me, Harlow?”

  “No, the other guy who’s smirking like he’s caught me doing something naughty.”

  “I sure as hell hope it was naughty, because, if not, I’ll have to have a talk with Bodhi. Or maybe Ellie needs to talk to you.”

  “Fishing for sex details just makes you look desperate, Aid, and you’re far too pretty to be looking desperate.”

  He bursts out laughing, and pulls me into his side as we go down to the garage. “You’ve definitely been hanging out with my wife.”

  “I’m quite fond of your wife.”

  “She feels the same way about you, which is why I need to get you safely to C&C.”

  I don’t see what he means until we pull out onto the street, and I spot the car following us. No casual observer would notice it, but although we haven’t had our evasive driving lessons yet, I know to be aware of my surroundings.

  “Is that the Secret Service?”

  “Yep. They’re supposed to always be with me, but I usually decline. Reina and I thought they could come in handy for a few days.”

  “Did they help you out of the mess the other night?”

  “Nah, that was all Rei. We were lawyered up, and out of there faster than even those guys could’ve taken care of it.”

  “Thanks again for doing this.”

  “Don’t mention it. The Society is more than a job, it’s a family. For all of us.”

  “So can I get a private tour of the White House?”

  “Anytime you want, although Reina could arrange that, too,” he says with a smile.

  I study his profile, and find myself smiling as well. He’s the life of any party, and his ego is legendary, yet I’m realizing it’s all for show. Aiden Ford may play to the spotlight, but he doesn’t enjoy it; it’s simply a part he plays. He’s good at it, but it’s not who he really is. He’s confident, but when you get him alone, he’s not so cocky.

  “I think I like you more than I expected,” I admit.

  “Well, after that dance you gave me a few years ago, I certainly hope so.”

  I wait until we’re parked in the C&C lot, and then I smack him upside the head. “Maybe I spoke too soon.”

  “Or maybe you didn’t.”

  “You’re going to keep me guessing, aren’t you?”

  “It’s what I do best.”

  “Really? You’re not going to say sex is what you do best?”

  “Like I said, Harlow, gotta keep you guessing.”

  10

  Harlow

  Aiden and I part ways in the lobby, with him going to the security floor, and me heading up to X and Micah. I knock on the door, and smile when my cousin answers. I can hear Micah talking to himself in the background, and that makes my smile grow even bigger. I’ve missed so much of his little life, and I’m hoping that won’t be the case from now on.

  “Hey, look who finally woke up.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, walking into the apartment.

  “I was kidding, Har. I wouldn’t have been up early if I didn’t have this little guy.”

  “Yeah, but life is so much better since you do have him,” I say, reaching for the little guy in question, and cuddling him close. He kisses my cheek, and I rub my nose against his.

  “Preaching to the choir, cuz.”

  “Have you met everyone already?”

  “No. Ainsley came knocking, but I didn’t want to meet anyone without you.”

  “Scared?”

  “No. Maybe. Hell, I don’t know. I mean, she’s probably not happy she hasn’t been able to see me, but as much as I love and trust you, I don’t know these people.”

  “What do you mean she can’t see you?”

  He holds up his watch, and smiles. I already knew it wasn’t a normal watch, but as I step closer, I see numbers flowing over the dial, along with symbols, and maps. I think it’s coding, but doing so much more as well.

  “Am I going to understand you if I ask what that’s doing?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Thought so.”

  He laughs, trying to explain it to me anyway. “It’s basically hiding me, and anyone near me who I choose to hide, in plain sight.”

  “Cool,” I tell him, because it is. I know Ainsley would love to get her hands on something like that. “You’re still going to share your technology with my friends, right?”

  “I know I told you I probably would, but I really need to think about it. I’m sure my technology would make things easier, and safer for you and your friends, but I need some answers and assurances before I just hand it over.”

  “Fair enough.”

  It may be fair, but that doesn’t mean Reina will be. She’s going to take what she wants from him—in the best interest of the Society—by any means necessary. I don’t say it, but I’m pretty sure he knows it as well as I do.

  “Do you think they’re going to come to me now that you’re here, or should we go to them?”

  I start to answer, but the knock on the door stops me. “I guess you have your answer.”

  He smirks before opening the door. As he stands aside, I see Ainsley frozen in the doorway. She’s looking at X like he’s an alien she wants to do experiments on, and he’s smiling indulgently at her. Matt finally has to pick her up, and move her aside, so everyone else can enter.

  “You okay, Little Mouse?” he asks.

  “Huh? Oh. Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t expecting him to look…you know.”

  “Like your husband?” X asks with a laugh.

  He doesn’t really look like Zack, except in that he looks like the football player he was in high school and part of college. Once coding, and hacking completely took over his brain, he gave up the game, but not the workouts. Plus, I can objectively say he’s gorgeous. I’m used to him not fitting the stereotype, so I sometimes forget it can be a shock to people meeting him for the first time.

  “You don’t look like Zack,” Ainsley huffs at him.

  “X,” I say, conveying in that one letter that he needs to be nice to her.

  “I was just kidding, although I was a quarterback back in the day.”

  “Damn, you are so not a nerd, are you?” Matt asks him, looking a little impressed.

  “I’m totally a nerd, but that’s not all I am.”

  “Thanks for helping to shatter the stereotype, man,” Scott says, holding out his fist for a bump.

  X bumps his fist with an amused smile on his face. “You’re doing just fine in that area, Griffin.”

  It’s true. Scott is covered in tats, has spiky hair, a piercing or two, and works out enough to have defined muscles. I’ve seen women literally swoon at his feet, but his gorgeous green eyes are only ever looking at his wife, Yasmin.

  “I am who I am.”

  “As am I.”

  “Now that the bonding has commenced, we need to talk about how you’re going to help us bring down Mando,” Reina tells him.

  “Mando’s already going down.”

  “Yes, but he’s trying to take Harlow and Bodhi with him.”

  “Which has made him sloppy. The other dealers will take care of him, because they won’t risk the exposure from his irritational behavior. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Reina says, moving towards him. He doesn’t flinch, or move back, and I see the surprise flash on her face before she puts her fierce and deadly mask back on. “You are willing to let your cousin live as a prisoner so you’re not inconvenienced by having to help us?”

  “No, Mrs. Corrigan, I am protecting my son first, but if I can help you without risking him, I will. Micah comes before everyone and everything, including Harlow.”

  I nod, because it’s true, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. “Always.”

  “What about Bodhi?”

  “I don’t know, Rei,” I answer. “I want him to be free from all of this, but I won’t risk this sweet boy to make it happen.”
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  “Your lack of faith and trust in us is becoming a problem.”

  “Do not turn this on her,” X says, stepping in front of me.

  “She’s one of my recruits, Mr. James. Becoming a member of the Society requires full commitment, because the people we protect deserve no less than that.”

  “No one’s questioned you before? You haven’t questioned anything before?”

  “Yes, I’ve questioned, but I have always stood with the women who are like sisters to me when it mattered.”

  “I’m not against you, and neither is he,” I tell her. “Mando’s sister, Kelsey, doesn’t want Micah because she loves him; she wants a way to control X, and she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her own son to do it. Would you sacrifice your child for me? For any of us?”

  “No,” she says, looking at Matt. “Never.”

  “Then how can you ask him to sacrifice his child to save me or Bodhi?”

  She closes her eyes, and opens them again, looking X in the eye. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Xavier.”

  “You can call me X, Reina. I’m going to go against everything I’m afraid of, and trust you to keep my boy safe.”

  “Every person connected to the Society will protect Micah with our lives.”

  “Not you, Princess,” Matt tells her.

  She looks like she wants to argue, but she nods when he walks over and rubs her stomach. “I won’t take a shift, but I’ll be here if an alarm sounds, and I’ll shoot to kill.”

  “I’m going to believe you, Reina, because despite what you think, Harlow trusts you. And because you’re having your own child, which makes me think you understand my need to protect my son.”

  “I do. Everyone will take shifts up here with him while you work with Ainsley, Scott, and me to plan our attack. You’ll meet a few other women who will be helping, as well. Harlow, I planned on you taking the first shift with Micah, and then introducing him to Kali next.”

  “Sure.”

  “I want to be able to come and check on him,” X tells her.

  “You are free to move between Ainsley’s space and this one. The elevator will only take you to the two floors.”

  He nods, and takes Micah from me so he can talk to him. The little guy is not quite two years old, but I have no doubt he’s going to be as brilliant as his father. Micah smiles, and touches X’s face, clearly okay with being left with me and my friends, while my cousin ruffles his hair. After a kiss on his forehead, X hands him back to me, kissing my forehead, too. I watch them all walk out, and hope this will be over sooner rather than later.

  Bodhi

  I answer emails all afternoon, taking on some new commissions, and turning down others. From the time I graduated college, I’ve refused to touch a penny of my family’s money, because the strings attached weren’t acceptable to me. When I was in school, they didn’t approve of my art classes, but they tolerated them because I took the computer classes they insisted upon, too. But when I told them I was pursuing art and not the family business, they threatened me, and I walked away. Not from them, because I just can’t turn my back on family, but I refused their money, even when I was struggling.

  There were many days when I was the poster child for ramen, but if I could go back and change things, I wouldn’t. Money doesn’t buy happiness, unless money is all you care about. My parents, and my uncle, pretend they’re happy, and maybe they really are, but I don’t think so. Image is everything, so they’ll never allow even a small crack to show, but those cracks are there, and if I’d let myself be bought, I’d be in a thousand little pieces by now.

  As it is, I’ve built a reputation for myself—thanks in no small part to Harlow—and I can now pick and choose who, and what, to paint. In the ramen days, I would’ve jumped at anyone who wanted to hire me to paint something for them, but now I only take jobs that interest me. I make people tell me their stories, and why they want me, specifically, to paint something for them. If I like their answers, I’m hired. It’s as simple as that.

  My life is far from simple right now, but I wouldn’t change the present, either. Complicated with Harlow is better than simple would be with another woman. Although I’ve never been celibate, I’ve only had one serious girlfriend before, and I felt nothing with her like I feel for Harlow. I know what it is, even though I’m still not quite ready to admit it to myself, or her. I’ve dreamed of Harlow for years, but I’ve only really known her for days. Too soon to be bandying around that four-letter word yet, even if it’s the first word that pops into my mind every time I see her.

  To distract myself from my thoughts before I drive myself even crazier, I decide to start on one of the jobs I accepted. This particular client wants me to copy a photograph, but they don’t want it to look the same. I have the freedom to choose the style and colors, and I know it’s just what I need to pass the time until Harlow’s back home.

  I use the industrial printer Reina had set up for me in my makeshift studio, and print out a copy of the photo that’s the same size as the canvas I’m using, then start to mix my paints. I’ve played with many styles over the years, but I haven’t done anything too abstract. With this job, I have the urge to do something in the vein of Picasso, taking pieces of the woman in the picture, and shifting them around.

  I sketch it out, and once I’m happy with the design, I pick up my brush and get to work. I lose myself in what I’m creating, registering nothing but the brush in my hands, and what’s taking form in front of me. Time passes, and while I notice the lights coming on automatically in the studio, I didn’t see the sun set. Food doesn’t matter, time doesn’t matter, only this painting matters right now.

  When my hand starts to cramp, I finally look at the time. Eight hours. I’ve been painting for eight hours straight. Like a flip has been switched in me with that one realization, I now feel the tension in my back, and neck. I see the paint splattered over my bare chest, and jeans. I notice how hungry, and thirsty I am. Most of all, though, I notice that Harlow’s not back yet.

  I’m exhausted, both mentally and physically, but I’m also exhilarated. The painting isn’t done, but I can already tell it’s one of my best works. Nothing I do will ever top my paintings of Harlow, because those were about my passion for her, and not just my work, but this one comes pretty damn close.

  I clench, and un-clench my hand, shaking out my fingers, and rolling my head from side to side. I need to eat, but I don’t know what I have the energy to cook for myself. I don’t have any frozen meals, or even ramen, but a sandwich should be easy enough.

  I start to stand, but my legs aren’t ready yet, and I stumble. I’m not expecting the hands that steady me, but I welcome them, because I know they belong to the Harlow. She’s finally here, just when I need her.

  11

  Harlow

  I had a good day, playing with Micah, and visiting with my friends, but I’m kind of annoyed that no one would let me be part of any decisions about taking down Mando. It’s me and Bodhi who are being threatened, but when I brought that up to Reina, she just told me to be patient, and that they’d get me when they needed me. X was deep in conversation with Scott and Ainsley, so I didn’t drag him into my fight, but I was really tempted to. Not my most mature moment, which is why I’m glad I didn’t give in.

  In the end, I told Reina I wanted to go home, and she had Aiden escort me back. He tried to make me feel better, and get me to laugh, but I just wasn’t in the mood. The only thing that’ll make me feel better is having Bodhi’s arms around me, although when I walk into his studio, I realize he may need me more than I need him right now.

  I catch him as he stumbles, easing him back onto the stool he tried to stand up from a moment ago. “Easy there, Bo.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Are you hurt?” I ask, looking him over. He has paint everywhere, and while it’s hot, it’s also got me worried.

  “A little stiff and sore, but not hurt.”

  I look behind me, and see the painting he must’ve been
working on. It’s totally cool, and I’m a little sad it’s not of me, because it’s that good. “You did this today?”

  “Yeah. The client gave me the freedom to do what I wanted, and an idea hit.”

  “I’ll say. It’s amazing.”

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “I kind of wish there was one of me like that.”

  “In that case, there will be.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “You know I love to paint you.”

  “I’m pretty sure everyone knows that.”

  “Then you should know I’d love to do an abstract of you.”

  “Okay.”

  His stomach rumbles, and he groans. “Sorry.”

  “Did you eat?”

  “No. That’s what I was going to do when you found me.”

  “You sat here and just got lost in your painting?”

  “Exactly.”

  I look him over. “Food first, then you’ll have to let me know how to get this paint off you, and I’ll massage your sore muscles.”

  “You’re too amazing for me.”

  “I think we’re about even, but we’ll discuss that another time. Right now, I’m going to make you a sandwich.”

  “Thanks, Low.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I fix him two sandwiches, and grab chips and a bottle of water before heading back into the studio. He’s standing now, bending his knees up and down, and swinging his arms around. When he sees me, he moves to the couch and sits down, patting the spot next to him.

  “These looks delicious.”

  “They’re just sandwiches.”

  “You made them, so they’re not ‘just’ anything.”

  “Stop trying to charm the pants off me when you can barely stand.”

  “I don’t need to be standing to do what I want to do to you.”

  “Eat your sandwiches.”

  “Only because I’m starving.”

  “Whatever it takes.”

  I watch him eat, stealing a few chips because I didn’t eat much today, either. “Did you eat today?”

  “A little.”

  He looks me over, seeing things I was trying to hide, because I wanted to take care of him. “What’s wrong?”